He did exactly as I said. It’s amazing how obedient people become when they’ve got a gonne pointing at them.
‘My child,’ he simpered, trying the soft soap, ‘is it not possible that we can cut a deal together? The Lord Henry Tudor knows how to value an intelligent woman. You should not allow personal animosity to stand in the way of your future career possibilities.’
‘You are not dealing with a mug like Buckingham now,’ I snapped. ‘God knows how you conned him into supporting that clown, but you’ll not con me. You’re going for a little ride to London, and a nice long talk with the King or, more likely, with his representatives. The ones who wear black hoods and undertake minor surgery.’
‘I’m surprised that you’re so zealous in the service of a King who has murdered his own nephews. Richard will never be able to rebuild his image after such a crime. As the tale spreads, and grows in the telling, more and more will turn from him. Buckingham saw that, and grabbed the chance to go with the tide. He will not be the last.’
‘The boys are safe and sound,’ I said, ‘despite your efforts, Bishop. What profit is there for Richard in killing them? They are bastards, incapable of any inheritance, let alone that of the crown.’
‘They are dead,’ he snorted. ‘Who has not heard of the secret burial within the Tower?’
‘You’ve started to believe in your own propaganda, you idiot. Think about it! Your version doesn’t make sense. Kill a deposed king and the first thing you do is put his body on public display so that everyone can see that he’s really dead. What you do not do is bury him in secret and leave a mystery. That’s the way to be plagued with impostors and madmen for the next twenty years.’
I saw a strange expression cross Morton’s face, and realised my mistake. I should have left him in his ignorance. Until that minute he had genuinely believed that the Princes were dead, taken out by the poisoned sweetmeats planted by his accomplices. Morton, assuming that Richard had been stupid enough to hush up the murders, had taken advantage of the official silence. It had left him free to put the blame on the King, where most people would naturally expect it to lie.
He let out a sudden cry of pain, and clutched at his chest. I thought that his heart had burst, for he was past sixty, fat, and rather red in the face, but as I hesitated he sprang forward and knocked me sideways, heading for the door behind me. I had not stopped rolling over when I discharged my piece at his retreating back. There was an almighty bang and a yelp as the ball grazed him, and I was left coughing and choking in the smoke. I think I used a hint too much powder.
Guy came at a run. He saw me lying on the floor and thought that I’d blown my head off.
‘Have you caught him? Morton?’ I demanded.
‘No, my lady. Didn’t know he was here.’
‘You must have passed him on the stairs.’
‘Didn’t pass anyone.’
Vaughans were crowding into the room, attracted by the noise.
‘Anyone seen a bishop?’ I asked.
For some reason, they all seemed to think that this was hilariously funny.
‘Get after him!’ I cried. ‘Bishop Morton of Ely, the King’s great rebel and traitor. The King will pay a fortune for him, dead or alive. Preferably dead.’
They hurried out of the room even faster than they had come, inspired by the thought of all that gold. But we never did catch him. I can only think that he made use of a secret passage, or that there was some well concealed room where he was able to hide until we had all gone away.
I left Brecon in the midst of a party of very happy Vaughans. There was a huge amount of booty, including Buckingham’s two young daughters, and the castle blazed fiercely behind us. I entertained the hope that Morton was still inside.
I carried the gilded box that the Bishop had left behind in his haste. It contained some intriguing correspondence. At last I had Margaret Beaufort bang to rights.
11
They found Buckingham hiding on a tenant’s farm near Wem in Shropshire. Unfortunately for him he had not been a very supportive landlord over the years, and the man concerned had no qualms about handing him over to the Sheriff, who in turn gave him into the care of James Tyrell.
Buckingham was taken to Salisbury, where the King was lodged after crushing the other wings of the rebellion. The trial was brief. Very brief. It was only really a matter of formality before they struck his head off. Richard refused to see the prisoner or to hear his pleas for pardon.
So much for Buckingham.
Several gentlemen of the South were executed. Sir George Browne was one of them. He had led the revolt in Kent, and I’m pleased to say that one of my many nephews, Lord Cobham, was responsible for blasting him out of Bodiam Castle. (A pretty place, Bodiam, by the way. I recommend a visit if you’re ever in that neck of the woods. It rates three Fetterlocks for comfort.)
Richard pardoned many other offenders, but there were those who trusted him so little that they preferred to flee abroad. Morton’s propaganda had been very effective.
(I must admit that I had some embarrassing family trouble as a result of this revolt. My brother Thomas, who should have known better, got himself mixed up in it, and I had to arrange for a pardon for him. Suspicion also fell on my eldest brother, Audley, but fortunately he was able to clear himself and remained part of Richard’s governing team.)
Henry Tudor sailed into Poole Harbour with his invasion fleet, but he was cautious, and somehow figured out that the fellows lining the shore were Richard’s men and not, as they pretended, his own supporters. (I suspect that they cheered too loudly and aroused his suspicions.) He shot off back to France as fast as the wind could blow him.
Back at Westminster, I was summoned into Richard’s presence. He had the correspondence I had captured spread out all over his desk, and was wearing a look of satisfaction that was dangerously close to a smile.
‘A fine piece of work, Alianore,’ he said, rising and pouring out a glass of wine for me with his own hands.
I shrugged. ‘It was pretty straightforward.’
He gestured at the papers. ‘I can’t believe that they didn’t encipher any of this.’
‘They’re just clever amateurs, Your Grace. Though it’s a great pity that Morton escaped, since we could certainly have nailed him for treason and attempted murder.’
He nodded. ‘We’ll attaint him in any event. Lovell has a report that he’s turned up in Flanders. Odd that he should go there instead of joining Tudor. Perhaps he hopes to stir up trouble for us in Calais.’
‘There is, of course, still Margaret Beaufort. These papers prove beyond doubt that she was hand in hand with the turd Morton in all this. The conspiracy with Buckingham, the attempts on your nephew’s lives, and more…’
Richard sat back in his big chair and twisted his rings. ‘Yes,’ he acknowledged, ‘I’ve read your report, and some of the facts in it astonish me. How any lady of royal descent could involve herself in such work I do not know. However, the fact remains that I can’t execute her. It’s contrary to the Knightly Code except in cases of husband-murder, and that’s one of the few crimes she hasn’t committed. Moreover, I can’t inflict disgrace upon Lord Stanley. I know you don’t like him. Nor do I, but he’s served me loyally throughout this little squall.’
He saw me grit my teeth, and added, ‘Margaret will not go unpunished. Her lands will be forfeited though they’ll be granted to Stanley for life so that he’s not the loser thereby. She’ll be deprived of her own servants and imprisoned, in her husband’s custody, for the rest of her life. That will put an end to her conspiracies.’