The Sun in Splendour

'I think not, my lord. She has a home in Cayford.'

'And where is Cayford?'

'It is in Somerset I believe my lord.'

'Ah, that will do. I will find her.'

The manservant looked astonished but George waved him away. The plan was already there in his mind; and he never paused to consider consequences. He summoned eighty of his guards and told them that they were to go with all speed to a place called Cayford which was in Somerset. There they would find the home of Ankarette Twynhoe, and they were to arrest her and bring her immediately to Warwick Castle where he would be awaiting them.

The Captain of the guard looked somewhat dismayed. It was a well known fact that none had the powers of immediate arrest except the King; and although Clarence was the King's brother that was not the same thing.

'Why do you hesitate?' asked Clarence.

'We are to arrest this woman ... in the name of. . . .'

'You are to arrest this woman. Have I not told you? I command it. I command it . . . .'

When Clarence was in such a mood it was wisest to obey him and the Captain remarked that he would leave at once for Somerset.

When the soldiers arrived Ankarette was at home with her daughter and son-in-law, who were visiting her for she had been long from home nursing the Duchess of Clarence. They were sitting peacefully at dinner when Clarence's guard appeared.

As the Captain came into the dining hall Ankarette rose from the table in astonishment.

'You are under arrest,' she was told.

Her son-in-law had risen with her. 'What means this?' he demanded. 'What right have you to burst in on us thus . . . ?'

'We are ordered to take her to Warwick Castle.'

'For what reason?' cried Ankarette. 'I have just left Warwick.'

'On the charge of poisoning the Duchess of Clarence and her child.'

'This is madness/ said Ankarette.

'You must nevertheless come with me to answer the charge.'

Ankarette's son-in-law laid a hand on her arm. 'You should not go. They have no right. Only the King can arrest a person in this way . . . and these men do not come on the King's orders.'

'We come on the orders of the Duke of Clarence,' answered the Captain.

Ankarette said: 'It is such nonsense. I shall be able to prove my innocence without the least trouble. I will go.'

'My dear Mother,' said Ankarette's daughter, 'I think you should refuse to go until you know more of this ridiculous matter.'

The Captain of the guard had called in his men. 'It would be better not to resist,' he said.

They all saw the wisdom of this. What chance had three of them against eighty?

Ankarette said: 'I will come peacefully and I shall want a very good explanation of this violation of my hon}e, I warn you.'

'So be it,' said the Captain of the guard.

'We are coming with you. Mother,' said Ankarette's daughter.

So the three of them were taken to Warwick Castle where Clarence was waiting for them in a fever of impatience. He had worked himself to even greater fury convincing himself that Isabel and his child had been murdered at the instigation of the Queen. This was not so much a case against Ankarette Twynhoe as against Elizabeth Woodville. He had been thinking a great deal. This was going to be the first step on his journey to the throne. He was going to expose these Woodvilles as jealous murderers and people would see how foolish the King was to have given them the power they had. He had been drinking heavily of his favourite malmsey wine while he awaited the arrival of the party from Somerset, and he was intoxicated not only with the wine but with dreams of the great triumphs which lay ahead.

First he must deal with this woman—the Queen's woman as he thought of her, the Woodvilles' assassin.

He was down at the gates of the castle when the party arrived.

They had the woman, he gleefully noticed. She looked truculent, very sure of herself. And who was this with her? he demanded to know.

Her daughter. Her son-in-law. But he had not wished to see them. They came uninvited. The man was subservient as became him in the presence of the great Duke of Clarence.

'My mother-in-law is no longer young, my lord. We do not care for her to travel alone.'

Clarence laughed. 'She is not too old to do the bidding of her masters and mistresses, it seems. Take the woman into the castle and send the others away.'

'My lord . . . .'It was the daughter.

'Take this woman,' cried Clarence, 'and remove her from my castle. It is only Ankarette Twynhoe that I am going to bring to justice. Of course if these people want to make trouble they will be arrested without delay.'

Ankarette was now beginning to feel alarmed. She knew Clarence's temperament: it was impossible to have lived for a while in his household and not discovered something of him. What did he mean? Of what was he accusing her?

She turned to her daughter. 'Go at once,' she said. 'I see his mood is ugly. I shall be all right. There is nothing of which he can accuse me.'

'Stop this whispering,' cried Clarence. 'Take the woman into the castle.'

Ankarette turned to smile reassuringly at her daughter and the younger woman, after hesitating for a moment, went off with her husband. They would have to find their way to the nearest town to see if they could find a night's shelter.

Ankarette meantime was conducted into the hall of the castle.

Clarence had seated himself at a table and he signed to the guards to bring her to him. He looked at her angrily and said: 'You will stand trial tomorrow.'

'Trial, my lord ... for what?'

'Your pose of innocence is useless, murderess. I know what you have done and at whose instigation.'

'My lord, I beg you, tell me what it is you think I have done?'

'You know. You murdered my wife, as your mistress instructed you to.'

'Murdered! The Duchess! My lord, how could you possibly have thought such a thing!'

'I know it/ said Clarence. The Queen gave you instructions. You are her woman, are you not?'

'I served the Queen.'

'Most effectively I see.'

'You are very mistaken, my lord. The Queen wished nothing but good to the Duchess and she sent me to help her. I loved my lady.'

'I see through lies, madam. Do not imagine that you can outwit me.'

'My lord .... This is monstrous . . . this is . . . .'

'Take the woman away.'

Ankarette lay on a pallet in one of the small rooms of the castle. This was like a nightmare. What could it mean? The poor Duchess had been weak before her confinement. She had never been a strong woman. The doctors had shaken their heads over her condition and Ankarette knew that they feared that she might not come safely through. And now she was accused of murdering her! It was such nonsense.

And yet . . . there was a wildness in the Duke of Clarence, a determination to prove her guilty. Why? Why select her? What harm had she ever done him?

She tossed on her pallet. Sleep was impossible. A glimmer of understanding was coming to her. This was not an attack by Clarence on her . . . but on the Queen.

It must be solved. It was nonsensical. The Duke was intoxicated. He often was. In the light of morning he would have recovered and realized the ridiculousness of this accusation.

It was a relief when dawn came. The guards came to her. They were losing no time and were taking her to the court without delay.

The proceedings were quickly over. The Duke of Clarence accused Ankarette Twynhoe of murder. She had come ostensibly to serve the Duchess but in fact to bring about her death. The Duchess had sickened from the moment Ankarette entered the household and all knew that she had died. Her death had been brought about by poison which had been administered by Ankarette Twynhoe.