Semper Fidelis- Squire of Middleham by C J Lock

Author:C J Lock [Lock, C J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781521790182
Published: 2017-07-07T04:00:00+00:00

3. RAVENSWORTH CASTLE

July 1470

A few months later, I stood in the gatehouse tower with Anna’s older brother Richard, watching a steady stream of tenants from the outlying villages trail into the castle.

Although Edward had effectively crushed the aspirations of his wayward brother, things were far from settled and as we went into the burgeoning summer, the air was as dry as tinder, ready for the smallest spark to set the country ablaze. The last I had heard, Richard was back in Wales, whilst the king continued to dispense justice to those who had foolishly been drawn to George’s false allure. Not that anyone with any sense believed that it was George the rebels followed. He had, despite being a royal prince, neither the power or the influence of Warwick.

Now, so the story ran, the pair of them were seeking support in France. Some said, unbelievably, that they may even approach mad old Henry’s queen who still haunted the French court, a spectre of long lost Lancastrian hopes. As I wondered what Richard and Rob were doing over these weeks while I kicked my heels idly here in the north, I could only imagine how he was feeling if that tale was true. It was Margaret, Henry’s queen, who Richard held responsible for the death of his father and brother at Sandal, not her threadbare king. My musings left me with one distinct conviction. The power of a woman, be she queen or noble, should never be underestimated.

Caitlin’s face rose in my mind. Her own father had lost his life for being the friend of a king, albeit a more faithful one than Warwick was turning out to be. I spent many an hour wondering how she was getting on back in Baynard’s, alone with a growing child. Unless Richard had been able to visit her on occasion, although I doubted it with what had been reaching my ears of late. I felt a pang of regret then. I missed her sorely, but then, I missed them all, and what was happening here made those feelings even more keen.

“That’s Richard Salkeld, Constable of Carlisle Castle,” Dick Fitzhugh murmured into my ear as a dark-robed horseman appeared below us, emerging from the shadow of the tower. I grunted back as I watched him dismount. Another northern lord riding in to Lord Henry’s call. Or was it Warwick’s call?

“This is ridiculous Dick. What exactly does your father think he is going to achieve? Clarence on the throne? Really?”

Dick sighed heavily. He was heavy-set, fair haired and around my age. We had made friends on my first evening here, when it had become very clear that he neither approved of, nor supported, his parents affinity. He had tracked me down at supper, plying me with questions on my time at court, at Middleham with Richard and with Edward during his captivity.

He wasn’t a bit like his father and had an open, enquiring expression, with honest dark blue eyes. I liked to think he favoured

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