The Sunne in Splendour: A Novel of Richard III Read Free Page A

winked and then grinned, and Richard discovered the joyful difference between being a sacrificial lamb and a trusted conspirator.
Much to Richard's surprise, Joan fled the solar as soon as Edward came through the doorway. But he had no time to dwell on her peculiar behavior, for Edward was lifting him up and depositing him back upon the table, saying, "Let me have a look at you." Shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You look like you've been jousting with a bramblebush," he said wryly, and Richard laughed.
"I was," he confided, and then looked up as his mother laid a hand lightly on his shoulder.
She was studying her eldest son, her eyes speculative. He met her gaze levelly, with a faintly quizzical smile, and at length she said only, "You were lucky, Edward. Very lucky, indeed."
"Somehow, he always is, Ma Mere," Edmund observed laconically.
"I am, aren't I?" Edward agreed complacently, and stepping back, brought his elbow up, as if by chance, to jostle Edmund's arm and spill his drink. Edmund, just as quick, tilted the cup so that it splashed upon the sleeve of Edward's doublet.
"Edward! Edmund! This be no time to play the fool, tonight of all nights!"
There was such unaccustomed asperity in the rebuke that they stared at her.
"But that be what we do best, Ma Mere," Edmund demurred, feeling it advisable to placate his irate parent with charm.
Edward, a shade more perceptive, was frowning. "Why do you say 'tonight of all nights,' Ma Mere? It can't be Dickon; he came to no harm. What has your nerves so on the raw?"
She didn't respond at once, shifting her gaze between their faces. "You read people well, Edward," she said at last. "I hadn't meant to tell you till the morrow. . . . While you both were out searching for
Richard, word reached us from my brother."
The two boys exchanged glances. Their uncle, the Earl of Salisbury, was expected to reach Ludlow that week, leading an armed force from the
    North to join with their father's men and those soon to come from Calais under command of their cousin, Salisbury's son, the Earl of Warwick.
"He was ambushed at a place called Blore Heath, to the north of Shrewsbury, by the Queen's army.
Your cousins Thomas and John were taken captive, but my brother and others were able to fight their way free. He sent word ahead to warn us, should reach Ludlow by tomorrow night."
There was silence, broken at last by Edward, who said matter-offactly, "If the Queen is set upon war, she'll not long keep the royal army at Coventry. She'll march on Ludlow, Ma Mere, and soon."
The Duchess of York nodded. "Yes, Edward, you are quite right," she said slowly. "She'll move on
Ludlow. I very much fear we can count on it."
LUDLOW
October 1459
'Death waited in the dark. Richard could feel its presence, knew it was there. Death was no stranger to him, for all that he was just ten days past his seventh birthday. Death had always been very much a part of his world, had claimed a baby sister in her cradle, had taken cousins and playmates, and more than once in his earliest years of life, had threatened to take him, too. Now it was back, and like him, awaiting the coming of day. He shivered and pulled the fox-fur coverlet up toward his chin, retreated still further into the refuge of the bed. Beside him, his brother stirred sleepily and jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow.
"Stop squirming, Dickon," he mumbled and reached over to claim Richard's pillow.
Richard made a halfhearted attempt to regain his stolen property, but
    once again George's three-year advantage proved to be a telling one, and the older boy was soon asleep, both pillows enfolded securely against his chest. Richard cushioned his head on his arm, watching with envy as his brother slept. In all of his seven years, he had never been awake at such an hour. But in all of his seven years, he had never been so afraid.
He thought of the dawning day with dread. On the morrow, there was to be a battle. Men were to die, for reasons he did not fully understand.