The Player King by Avi

Author:Avi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers

TWENTY-THREE

BROTHER SIMONDS and I walked out of the hall. The moment we were beyond hearing, I stopped, tugged on his cape, looked up, and said, “Lincoln believes I’m the Earl of Warwick, doesn’t he?”

“He does.”

“Then shall I live?”

“You shall,” he said, and for once actually smiled.

The jolt of joy that went through me was such that I abruptly hugged the friar, which made him laugh (the first time that had happened) as he hugged me back.

Catching my breath, I said, “Brother, I need you to say it again: Am I truly going to be king?”

“Do you think you will?”

“I do!” I cried

“Then you will be,” the friar proclaimed.

“I am Edward!” I shouted. “Edward, Earl of Warwick!” Then I poked his stomach. “I shall make you a bishop.”

He grinned and laughed again.

Never had I felt so happy, so full of joy. And what came into my head? I wanted to rush off to Tackley’s and make him bow down before me.

Did I? Of course not. Tackley was beneath me.

The friar and I returned to the house in a different fashion than when we’d left. I went on my own two feet, with no cloak to hide me. Two of the earl’s servants went before us, carrying flaming torches to light our way. Behind me marched some soldiers, pikestaffs in hands. Brother Simonds was by my side, a smile on his face, hands clasped before him, as if in grateful prayer. No doubt his prayers were being answered.

As for me, I was light-headed, cock-brained, hardly knowing whether to laugh or cry. I wanted to jump about and shout, “I am Edward, the Earl of Warwick, and I am going to be king!”

We paraded grandly down the middle of the street, so that people had to make way for us. Many stopped and gazed at me. Ragged children ran alongside, trying to see who I was.

“Hold your head up,” Brother Simonds urged. “Acknowledge with grace the people who are looking at you.”

“How?”

“Lift your hand and wave.”

When I did, people bowed, removed hats and caps, and touched their foreheads in respect.

Never had I such fun.

We reached the house. “I’m pleased with you,” said the friar.

“You must use words of greater respect,” I returned, putting on a grave voice. “You need to say, ‘My lord, you did well.’ ”

My words took the smile from the friar’s face. For an instant, I feared he was going to strike me. The next moment, however, he said, “You are quite right . . . my lord.” And bowed.

We both laughed, but my laughter, I think, was truer. There was a moment when we looked at each other. I held my eyes steady. He looked down. I think it was only then that he realized he had made me his master.

As if to restrain me, he said, “We’ll continue your lessons, but starting tomorrow you’ll walk through town at least once a day.”

“Why?”

“You heard Lincoln. You must be seen so people will know you as the true claimant to the throne.

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