‘Then,’ said Montacute, let us prepare for Nottingham at the end of October.’
Isabella knew something was wrong. Edward was too young to hide it from her. He was aware of this and avoided her. She heard rumours of those who worked for her in secret that the King was planning something.
She warned Mortimer, but he was complacent as ever. ‘Do you doubt my ability to deal with our boy?’ he asked.
‘Gentle Mortimer, I believe our boy has grown up considerably in these last few weeks.’
‘My love, he is a father. I hear the new Prince is a lusty little fellow. It will be years before we need concern ourselves with him. But his birth has given our boy a feeling that he is at last a man. There’s nothing more than that, my love.’
‘He is a man, Mortimer,’ said Isabella quietly.
When she was worried voices came to her in the night. Sometimes she would awaken and whisper: ‘You are there, Edward, are you not? Mocking me in the shadows. Is it you who are sowing evil thoughts in Edward’s mind? Do not harm Mortimer, Edward. He is my love, my life. I am bound to him as I never thought to be to any man. Do not harm Mortimer.’
She was always afraid she would awaken Mortimer. She dreaded his derisive laughter. He was always loving though—passionately loving. Sometimes she thought: Yes, I am a Queen. He needs me as I need him.
There was to be a Parliament at Nottingham. There was something special about this Parliament. Some of Mortimer’s spies had discovered that the King was seeing a great deal of William Montacute and one of their servants had overheard them, talking of taking Mortimer at Nottingham.
Mortimer laughed aloud when he heard. ‘Let them try,’ he said.
But Isabella was uneasy. ‘We could refuse to go,’ she said. ‘You could feign illness.’
‘Nay, my love. We’ll go. We’ll lodge in the castle there. It is the strongest fortress in the neighbourhood. We’ll take possession of it and see what happens from there.’
Mortimer and Isabella rode to Nottingham surrounded by their retinue of knights, which grew more and more splendid every time they appeared, proclaiming as they did the wealth and might of Mortimer.
For all his bravado Mortimer was affected by Isabella’s fears. He knew that a number of those who had supported him were now slipping away from him and it occurred to him that those who stayed with him did so because they were so involved in his schemes that they would be judged guilty even if they left.
It was too late now for them to leave. Too late. Those words had an ominous ring.
He had taken the precaution of reaching Nottingham before the King did and that enabled him to take possession of the castle there in the name of Queen Isabella.
It occurred to the Queen that the King might be given the keys of the castle so she set about having the outer locks changed. ‘Every night,’ she said, ‘the keys shall be brought to me and I shall keep them under my pillow where I shall know that they are safe.’
The castle at Nottingham was indeed a fortress. It had been said that it was impregnable and could never be taken except by famine. It was built on the summit of a rock one hundred and thirty-three feet high and even before William the Conqueror had ordered the castle to be built there had been a tower there which had been used by the Danes against Ethelred.
Meanwhile Montacute had arrived in Nottingham, his plan being to seize Mortimer at the Parliament and then bring him to trial. By this time Mortimer was aware of what was about to happen and he knew what his fate would be if he were taken.
How wise he had been never to travel anywhere without his armed knights! There were one hundred and eighty of them—a little army, who would defend their master with their lives for what would they have if they lost him?
He would not emerge from the castle. He dared not. It was well fortified. It was well stocked. They could lay siege to it if they wished but they would not find it easy to take Mortimer.
The Queen was in despair. ‘Who would have thought that it would have come to this?’ she cried. ‘I must speak to my son.’
‘My dear,’ replied Mortimer, ‘it is too late to speak to him. He will never listen to us again. He is no longer our boy. He believes himself to be a man and a king.’
‘Then woe betide us,’ mourned the Queen. ‘I hear that he is making enquiries about his father’s death. Oh, I knew it would come.’
‘Rest assured I shall find a way out of this. This is not the end of Mortimer. I have not come so far to go the way Kent went.’
‘Oh Mortimer, Mortimer,’ mourned Isabella, ‘do not talk so.’
‘Isabella! ‘ admonished Mortimer. ‘What has happened to you? Where is my brave Queen who was once ready to face the world?’
‘It was before ...’ she murmured.
He did not ask her to go on. He knew. Before the murder of Edward. Before she had those dreams when he came to her in the dead of the night.
‘Now,’ he said briskly, ‘we must think carefully. We cannot afford to make a mistake now.’
He sent for Sir William Eland, the governor of the castle. ‘You understand,’ he said, ‘that we are now a fortress. Our enemies are in the town of Nottingham. A man in my position is certain to have enemies. I have reason to believe that Sir William Montacute is one of these. He may try to enter the castle, he is to be kept out at all cost.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ said Sir William Eland.
‘I need hardly remind you,’ went on Mortimer, ‘that it would be dangerous to disobey my orders.’
‘I understand, my lord.’
‘Then all is well. We will remain in the castle. Let our enemies come. They cannot get in. The keys are to be delivered to Queen Isabella every night. Is that clear?’
‘It is perfectly clear, my lord.’
Mortimer dismissed the governor and went to Isabella. ‘We are perfectly safe here,’ he said. ‘All the passes of the castle are manned by my friends. They will never desert me because they have been my supporters for too long. Moreover they are certain that soon I shall outwit this little band who come to take me. Once you have talked to the King you will win him to our side. Have you not always done so?’
Isabella agreed that this was so, but she sensed change in the air. Her voices were coming to her very frequently now.
‘We are safe while we are together,’ said Mortimer. ‘The King would never harm you.’
She was not sure. The King had changed. He was no longer the boy but the man.
The King had arrived in Nottingham. Montacute was already there and he acquainted Edward with what had happened. Mortimer, sensing what they were about, had taken possession of the castle and there was no way into him. He had skilfully arranged that all the gates were securely guarded by men whom he trusted, people whose fortunes would rise or fall with him. The keys had been changed and were in his mother’s possession. Every night she slept with them under her pillows.
‘What of the governor of the castle?’
‘He feigns to be a friend of Mortimer, but we could sound him.’
‘Who is he?’
‘Sir William Eland.’
‘He has always been a good and loyal knight.’
‘He is doubtless afraid of Mortimer as so many have been. They know him as ruthless and brutal and for so long he has had his way. It is said that the only way to keep alive is to be on good terms with Mortimer. I shall find means of sounding him.’
That was not necessary. Sir William Eland came to them.
He was the King’s man, he said. It was an unusual situation for the Queen Mother and her son were on separate sides whereas previously they had been together. He hated Mortimer. Who did not hate Mortimer? Who did not deplore his influence with the Queen Mother? And now that it seemed that there were two sides he would take that of his King to whom he had sworn allegiance.