XII
THE KING'S WORD
From this moment Gloucester moved with no uncertain nor halting stepstoward the object of his ambition. With the death of Hastings wasremoved the only man in England who might have blocked his purposethrough either power or ability; and he and Buckingham were left freeto play out to its end the wonderful game that won a kingdom without asingle disturbance or the drawing of a sword. The moves followed oneanother in bewildering rapidity, yet with such consummate skill, thatwhen in the great chamber of Baynard's Castle the final offer of theCrown was made, and the Lord Protector with seeming diffidence acceptedit on Stafford's urging, it appeared but a natural consequence ofspontaneous events, brought about only by the force of circumstancesand through no deliberate human agency.
In some of these events Sir Aymer de Lacy was an actor, while in othershe was but a spectator or bore no part at all. From the grimdeath-scene in the Tower he had gone back to Crosby Hall and a longtalk with Sir John de Bury, wherein he learned what had brought the oldKnight so hastily to London and the Lord Chamberlain to the block; andwhich, ere nightfall, was to send Sir Ralph de Wilton galloping back toPontefract, bearing an order constituting the Earl of NorthumberlandLord High Steward, and directing the trial of Rivers, Grey and Vaughanfor the same crime that had proven Hastings' doom: conspiracy againstthe Lord Protector. He had chanced to ride by St. Paul's Cross whileDr. Shaw was in the midst of his sermon on "Bastard slips shall nottake deep root." He had gone with Buckingham to the Guild Hall twodays later; had listened with strong approval to the speech whereinStafford boldly advocated the setting aside of the young Edward infavor of his uncle; and had lent his own voice to the cry: "KingRichard! King Richard!" He had witnessed the tender at Baynard'sCastle and the halting acceptance by the Duke--had heard the heraldsproclaim the new King in the streets of London--and had seen him ascendthe marble seat at Westminster and begin the reign that promised sobright a future. He had ridden in the cavalcade that accompanied theKing from the Tower on the Saturday preceding the formal coronation,and had formed one of the throng that participated in the gorgeousceremony of that July Sunday, when all the power of England's nobilitypassed from the Palace to the Abbey to honor him who was to be the lastof his Line.
Never for generations was England to see such a gathering of her Peersand Barons and Churchmen as walked in that procession. There, was thehuge Northumberland, fresh from Pontefract--where but a week aback hehad sent Rivers and his friends to the headsman--now bearing Mercy'spointless sword; Stanley (his peace made by empty words) with the Mace;Suffolk with the Sceptre; Norfolk, Earl Marshal of the Realm, with theCrown; and Richard himself, in purple gown and crimson surcoat; theBishop of Durham on his right and the Bishop of Bath on his left; andbehind him, bearing his train, the Duke of Buckingham. . . And thenthe Queen's attendants: Huntington with her Sceptre; Lisle with the Rodand Dove; Wiltshire with her Crown. She, herself, paler than pearlsand fragile as Venetian glass, yet calm and self-contained, movedslowly in the heavy royal robes; and after her walked Margaret,Countess of Richmond and mother of him who next would wear the crown,the usurping Tudor.
And then the throne was reached--the music swelled in solemnchorus--the aged Primate raised the crown and placed it on RichardPlantagenet's head--the "Te Deum" rolled out in thunderous tones--and anew King reigned in England.
It was in the late afternoon of the following day that De Lacy,strolling along Bishopgate Street, chanced upon Sir John de Bury nearthe White Hart Inn, the newest and most popular hostelry in London.
"By St. Luke," Sir John exclaimed, "you are a welcome sight. Come anddrink a measure of Burgundy, and I will tell you a bit of news."
They pushed their way through the motley throng in the main room and,coming upon the landlord, were conducted with many bows and smiles to aretired corner and in a moment the wine was set before them. Sir Johnlifted high the vessel and watched the heavy liquid fall. Then takinga sip he let it run slowly down his throat.
"Not bad, by half," he said, smacking his lips with the air of aconnoisseur, and drained his cup at a draught. "What think you of theCoronation?"
"It was a noble spectacle, and a proper act for England."
"Aye, it was--yet I would that Hastings and not Stanley had borne theMace."
"And that Stanley had been sent in Hastings' place to Chapel Green?" DeLacy asked.
"By St. Luke, yes!" said Sir John instantly; then he leaned over andput his hand on Aymer's shoulder--"and truly, it was a gallant thingyou and De Wilton did that mournful morning. Has Gloucester--the King,I mean--said aught to you of it, or has it not reached his ears?"
De Lacy laughed. "He knew it ere he left the Tower, but he found nofault with us."
"And if I know Richard, he liked you both the better for it. . . Here,fellow, another measure of wine, and see that it be of the samebarrel. . . These rogues need watching else will they serve poorerstuff the second time, as you have likely noticed."
"Human nature, and innkeepers' nature in particular, does not changebetween Dover and Calais; yet they would hardly do us the discourtesyto think that our heads muddled so easily."
"Nay, lad, I was but following my motto that it is better to warnbefore the fight than after."
"Did you warn before the fight in Yorkshire?"
"By St. Luke! there was the fitting moment for the motto, but thevillains would give me no breathing space to speak. And that remindsme: do you recall the smooth-tongued Abbot of Kirkstall?"
"In truth, I do," said Aymer. "The most inquisitive monk I havechanced upon in many a day."
"Well, the notion grips me hard that the Abbot Aldam could tell sometales about that little incident, and violate no secret of confessionaleither. There have been strange rumors lately touching his Abbey andthe style of servitors it employs at times."
"Then we at least decreased their numbers--but one escaped, if Iremember rightly," Aymer replied.
"Aye--one; but it is enough. Some day I may chance upon him andthen . . . I shall know the story."
"Can you recognize the rogue?"
"Instantly. I marked him well, for I had wounded him in the face by athrust he turned but half aside. A short, thick-set, red-haired knave,with a nose as flat as a sword blade."
"I shall not forget," said Aymer, "and mayhap I may find the story foryou. But it occurs to me you spoke of a bit of news."
"By St. Luke, yes! I nigh forgot it, yet it would have matteredlittle. It is only that I ride North two days hence."
"To Craigston Castle?"
"The same, unless I meet with misadventure on the way."
"In the guise of a flat-nosed, red-haired knave," said Aymer with alaugh.
"A pleasant misadventure, truly! Though, were there any likelihood ofthat, you would best accompany me and save me from the rogue a secondtime."
"Nay, my lord, an old bird is not caught twice in the same snare. Iscarce fancy you will be surprised a second time, or that he will againventure voluntarily within your reach."
"Then you may not be persuaded to go with me?"
De Lacy shook his head. "I fear I am not open to persuasion; I couldnot leave the Court at present."
"It is a pity," said Sir John, as he flung the score on the table andarose, "for I had thought the Countess of Clare might like to have youwith us. But of course, if the King cannot spare you, there is an endto the matter."
De Lacy looked at the old Knight quizzically for an instant and thenlaughed frankly.
"It was not fairly done, Sir John," he said; "you caught me foul--youasked first, and reasoned only after I was helpless."
"Well, there is no crime in reconsidering. Will you come?"
"If the King will grant me leave, I shall fare with you."
"With me or with the Countess?" Sir John laughed.
Upon leaving De Bury, Sir Aymer de Lacy bent his steps to BaynardCastle, where the King had come that evening.
At the main door he encountered the
Duke of Buckingham in company withSir William Stanley and was passing them with a courteous salutationwhen Stafford caught his arm.
"Here, De Lacy," he exclaimed--and Aymer saw he was excited and angry,"you know all the facts! Tell Sir William who is most responsible forthe crowning of Gloucester . . . who sent him message toPontefract . . . who joined him at Northampton . . . who has done allthe open work here in London?"
"Nay, Stafford," broke in Stanley, "be not so wrathful. Doubtless HisMajesty will be most fair and liberal in the matter. Give him time tofeel his crown."
"Time!" retorted the other. "Time! He has had time and to spare. AmI not co-heir to De Bohun through Aleanore, Hereford's daughter, andwill Richard of Gloucester think to retake what Henry of Monmouthabjured? By the Lord Omnipotent, let him dare it!"--and with afiercely menacing gesture he stalked into the courtyard, and springingto horse rode noisily away followed by his attendants.
"His Grace appears a trifle annoyed," said De Lacy.
Sir William Stanley shrugged his shoulders. "It would seem so; yet itwere unwise to parade it. However, Buckingham was ever hasty oftemper."
"Nathless, the question was embarrassing and I would not care to answerit before a Stanley," Aymer reflected, as he ascended the stairs to thepresence chamber.
Baynard Castle, though large and roomy for a nobleman's town residence,was not suited to the needs of a monarch, and as the Court was about tomove from Westminster to Windsor, Richard had brought only a few of hisfavorite Knights and personal attendants with him for the short time heintended to tarry in London. When De Lacy entered the Hall, Richardwas not in presence, and lounging at ease on the numerous bancals weresome of the minor officers of the Household. He made his way by themto join a group that was gathered about the Duke of Norfolk, whenimmediately there was a touch upon his arm, and a page summoned him tothe King.
Richard was standing at an open window that overlooked the courtyard.He turned as De Lacy entered and demanded abruptly:
"What said Buckingham and Stanley yonder?"
Aymer was too used, by this time, to Richard's ways to be surprised,and he repeated the conversation as accurately as his memory held itand without comment.
The King listened with half-closed eyes, an inscrutable smile upon hislips.
"It may happen, De Lacy," he said, "that there will come a time whenyou must choose between Henry Stafford and Richard Plantagenet."
"Not so, Sire," Aymer replied. "As against Your Majesty there cannever be a choice for me."
Richard looked him straight in the eyes. "I believe it," he said. "Iwould there were more De Lacys."
Aymer bowed low. "Your Majesty is very gracious; and it encourages meto prefer a request."
"Say on, sir," the King said kindly.
"I would ask a few weeks' leave from Court."
"Wherefore?"
"To accompany Sir John de Bury to Craigston; and to stop at my owncastle of Gaillard on my return."
Richard laughed lightly. "It is granted, and may success attend you,"he said. "And by St. Paul! if you win the Countess you shall wed her,else I am not King of England."
De Lacy blushed like a girl, and the King laughed more heartily.
"Methinks Sir John is friendly to you," he added, "and in that you arevery fortunate. But you have rivals in plenty, so watch themcarefully. Remember, I do not make the match, but should you two wishit, none shall make it otherwise."
"Perchance some day I may remind Your Majesty of those words," said DeLacy.
"And shall find me ready to fulfill them, though I bring an army at myback. . . If need be, you are now excused from attendance until youreturn, but report to me to-morrow night; I may have some service foryou on the journey. . . Announce me."
Swinging back the door, Aymer lifted the arras.
"The King!" he heralded.
Instantly quiet reigned and every one sprang to his feet and uncovered.
"Be seated, gentlemen," said the King. . . "Ah! Norfolk, a word withyou," he said, and led the way to a large window in a far corner of theapartment.
"Well, Howard," said he, "the break with Stafford nears--though itcomes quicker than I had thought. Were you here when he left me?"
"In sooth, yes, and he was wildly angry. He overtook the youngerStanley at yonder door and his words were high enough to carry back,though not distinguishable."
"I know their import. De Lacy met him in the courtyard, and wasappealed to to tell who made Gloucester King."
"The man is a fool or crazy," the Duke exclaimed; "and thrice so tomake a Stanley his confidant. Methought he would have got a littlewisdom lately by association with Your Majesty."
"Nay, Stafford has no statecraft in him and can learn none."
"Yet it would seem he deems himself a second Kingmaker," the EarlMarshal remarked sententiously.
"Let him beware then lest he meet a Warwick's death--or one less noble."
"But, Sire, do you trust entirely this De Lacy if Buckingham growdiscontent? Was he not first vouched for by him?"
"Did you ever hear of a De Lacy untrue to England's King?"
"By the Rood, no! they were ever stanch for him who wore thecrown--even as Howard has been."
"And I trust De Lacy as I trust Howard," with the winning smile hecould use so well when he wished.
The old Peer bent knee and made to kiss the royal hand.
"Not so, John," said Richard, raising him; "let that go save whereceremony demand it. Your honest grip makes faith enough forGloucester."
After some serious consultation Norfolk took his leave, and Richard,passing on to his apartments and to the window that overlooked thecourtyard, watched him ride off to his own abode. Then with seriousface he turned away.
"Norfolk and Surrey are trustworthy," he said half aloud, "but who elseof the Peers? . . . By St. Paul! it would seem well to finish Edward'sbusiness of snuffing out the old Nobility. Yet I have no Teuton andTewkesbury to work an opportunity, nor are the Yorkists united behindme. . . It is a hard problem; and the way through is far fromclear. . . Buckingham--the Stanleys--Northumberland--all theirfriends--I trust them not . . . yet must favor them with power that erelong may work my ruin. . . It has become fashionable in England itwould seem, since the Second Richard's time, to crown a new King erethe old one died. It was so with him of Bordeaux--of Windsor--and myown dear nephew--and pardieu! it may be the same with me. Yet, no! BySt. Paul, no! If that time ever come, there shall be a change in thefashion: when the new King feels his crown, Richard of Gloucester willbe dead."