White Boar and the Red Dragon, The Read Free Page A

spite of his frailty of which you despair and his poor health as an infant!’
    As if to back up his words, there was a gleeful shout from Richard down below, as a particularly strong blow of his knocked his elder brother George’s wooden sword right out of his hand! Anne Neville, the Earl’s youngest daughter, who had been running round and round cheering Richard during the mock fight, clapped loudly. She was Richard’s shadow, being quite devoted to him—and he to her.
    ‘A point for me, I think, sirrah!’ exulted Richard, wiping his hand across his brow where the sweat dripped continually into his eyes despite his efforts. It was an exceptionally hot day—even for August.
    A young page ran forward with a tray on which were several beakers of small ale chilled in the castle cellars. Richard grabbed one, downed it in one go, then started on another, drinking in long, deep swallows, almost without a breath.
    ‘That’s better!’ he cried. ‘Now I’ll take you on, Francis!’ He brandished his small sword and advanced towards his best friend with determination, his face screwed up against the sun and with his effort.
    Richard Neville leant through the large Solar window and called, ‘No, boys. I think that is enough for today. Come indoors. It is cool here and you must rest. Anne, you come too. You will get ill if you become overheated!’
    Richard groaned but resigned himself to Warwick’s command and walked in slowly with the others, dragging his sword by his side as they climbed the stairs breathlessly. A few moments later, they all stood before the Duchess Cecily and Neville, covered in dust and sweat but excited and happy.
    ‘I won, Mother. I beat George! I would have beaten Francis and Robert too if you had let me go on!’
    ‘As Lord Neville said, Richard, that is quite enough for today! Your face is purple, boy! Don’t you know when enough is enough? Go now, all of you, and wash and change.’
    At her words, an old maidservant, the Neville children’s nurse from babyhood, whom they rather resented now, feeling themselves too old for her ministrations, no doubt, came forward and shepherded the children out of the Solar.
    ‘You see what I mean about determination and ambition, Aunt? He will not give up easily and likes to beat everyone! Surely he will succeed in life, at whatever he makes up his mind to do?’
    ‘You may have convinced me a little!’ Cecily nodded, smiling one of her rare, tight smiles, so brief they seemed grudging. ‘But we shall see. I think he may overtax his strength trying to prove he is as good as everyone else.’
    ‘Not only as good as, Aunt, but better than! I agree though. We should not let him overdo things! I know all about delicate children, none better. Both Isabel and Anne have been so from birth, no one knows why, for I have a strong constitution, my wife likewise.’
    They had good cause to worry, for by that evening, Richard had lost his bravura; wanted nothing to eat, and was running a high fever. He still objected to being made to go to bed early, even though he ached all over. By morning, his nose was running and he sneezed continually. His throat was so closed up and painful he could hardly swallow and his body felt on fire.
    ‘‘Tis only another of his summer colds, my lady, I am sure. Nothing to be afraid about!’ the old nurse assured Duchess Cecily.
    But in a day or two, their mild anxiety turned to real concern. The boy was unable to get out of bed and was having great difficulty breathing.
    ‘My right shoulder and arm won’t work,’ he croaked. ‘They feel dead!’
    ‘It’s all right, lad,’ comforted the nurse. ‘You just overdid the sword-fighting the other day in all that heat. ‘Tis exhaustion. You’ll be fine in a day or so!’
    But Richard was not. Nor for many days and weeks afterwards.
    The best doctors were summoned, even the king’s own physician, Dr Hobbes, whom he trusted implicitly. Hobbes came all the way from London at once