men-at-arms. The duke had brought a huge personal guard with him, more than all the other English lords put together. Even so, it was dwarfed by the number of French soldiers camped around the town.
Suffolk watched as York’s man saluted and rushed off on some errand. Suffolk clasped his hands behind his back and tried to look fascinated by the gothic towers and ornate stonework. He wished his wife had come, but Alice had been scandalized at the very thought. It had been hard enough explaining that he would marry a fourteen-year-old French princess that day, if it all came off. Having his own wife thereas well would be a mockery of the church, or so she’d said, at some length.
A greater mockery would be the slaughter that could very well erupt at the slightest provocation, Suffolk thought. For the moment, York’s men were studiously ignoring the French soldiers around Tours, while their noble masters strolled and talked. Suffolk knew the French were there to take command of Anjou and Maine the moment the service was over. He would have loved to tell York, especially after suffering the man’s meaningful glances to the distant soldiers. York felt his caution was utterly vindicated by the presence of such a French force. As they’d passed briefly in the churchyard, he’d hissed a question, demanding to know how Suffolk thought just a few guards could have protected King Henry. Suffolk had only been able to mumble helplessly that there would surely be no danger on a wedding day. York had glared at him, visibly suspicious as he bustled away.
It was a fraught situation and Suffolk’s nerves wound tighter and tighter with every passing hour. York didn’t know the king would not be coming and now there were two armies facing each other in the fields. All it would take was for some idiot to call the wrong insult or play some vicious prank and no force on earth or in heaven would prevent a battle. Suffolk used a soft cloth to wipe his face once more.
As he murmured something inane to another guest, Suffolk saw York change direction to approach him across the churchyard.
‘Come on, Derry,’ Suffolk said softly in English, making the closest French noble squint at him in confusion. ‘I need you here. Come on.’ He beamed at the duke as he halted.
‘Richard! What a wonderful day we have for it. Have you news of the king?’
York looked sourly at the older man.
‘Iwas coming to ask just that, William. I have no word from the ports that he is even on his way. Have you seen Derry Brewer?’
‘Not yet. Perhaps he is with the king. I think they were coming over together.’
York scowled to himself, staring over the crowd of French and English noble families, all enjoying the sunshine.
‘I can’t understand it. Unless he’s grown wings, he should be well on the road by now. My men would hardly have missed a royal party passing through Calais, but I’ve heard nothing.’
‘They could be outrunning the messengers, Richard. Have you thought of that? I’m sure they’ll be here in time.’
‘This has Brewer’s hands all over it,’ York said angrily. ‘Secret routes and subterfuge, as if even the king’s own lords cannot be trusted. Your friend Brewer will look a fool if the king’s party is ambushed and taken while we stand here in our finery.’
‘I’m sure that won’t happen. Derry merely seeks to keep the king from harm, as do we all.’
‘I won’t be happy until he’s safely married and on the road home. You’ve seen the soldiers they have camped all around us? Thank God I brought so many with me! This is a dangerous situation, William. I have too few men to hold them if they make a surprise attack.’
‘I’m sure they are only here to protect King Charles and his lords,’ Suffolk lied nervously. He dreaded the moment when the full details of the marriage agreement would be revealed. He had to hope the French king would not make too much of a show as he took command of his new territories.
Suffolk watched as York’s man saluted and rushed off on some errand. Suffolk clasped his hands behind his back and tried to look fascinated by the gothic towers and ornate stonework. He wished his wife had come, but Alice had been scandalized at the very thought. It had been hard enough explaining that he would marry a fourteen-year-old French princess that day, if it all came off. Having his own wife thereas well would be a mockery of the church, or so she’d said, at some length.
A greater mockery would be the slaughter that could very well erupt at the slightest provocation, Suffolk thought. For the moment, York’s men were studiously ignoring the French soldiers around Tours, while their noble masters strolled and talked. Suffolk knew the French were there to take command of Anjou and Maine the moment the service was over. He would have loved to tell York, especially after suffering the man’s meaningful glances to the distant soldiers. York felt his caution was utterly vindicated by the presence of such a French force. As they’d passed briefly in the churchyard, he’d hissed a question, demanding to know how Suffolk thought just a few guards could have protected King Henry. Suffolk had only been able to mumble helplessly that there would surely be no danger on a wedding day. York had glared at him, visibly suspicious as he bustled away.
It was a fraught situation and Suffolk’s nerves wound tighter and tighter with every passing hour. York didn’t know the king would not be coming and now there were two armies facing each other in the fields. All it would take was for some idiot to call the wrong insult or play some vicious prank and no force on earth or in heaven would prevent a battle. Suffolk used a soft cloth to wipe his face once more.
As he murmured something inane to another guest, Suffolk saw York change direction to approach him across the churchyard.
‘Come on, Derry,’ Suffolk said softly in English, making the closest French noble squint at him in confusion. ‘I need you here. Come on.’ He beamed at the duke as he halted.
‘Richard! What a wonderful day we have for it. Have you news of the king?’
York looked sourly at the older man.
‘Iwas coming to ask just that, William. I have no word from the ports that he is even on his way. Have you seen Derry Brewer?’
‘Not yet. Perhaps he is with the king. I think they were coming over together.’
York scowled to himself, staring over the crowd of French and English noble families, all enjoying the sunshine.
‘I can’t understand it. Unless he’s grown wings, he should be well on the road by now. My men would hardly have missed a royal party passing through Calais, but I’ve heard nothing.’
‘They could be outrunning the messengers, Richard. Have you thought of that? I’m sure they’ll be here in time.’
‘This has Brewer’s hands all over it,’ York said angrily. ‘Secret routes and subterfuge, as if even the king’s own lords cannot be trusted. Your friend Brewer will look a fool if the king’s party is ambushed and taken while we stand here in our finery.’
‘I’m sure that won’t happen. Derry merely seeks to keep the king from harm, as do we all.’
‘I won’t be happy until he’s safely married and on the road home. You’ve seen the soldiers they have camped all around us? Thank God I brought so many with me! This is a dangerous situation, William. I have too few men to hold them if they make a surprise attack.’
‘I’m sure they are only here to protect King Charles and his lords,’ Suffolk lied nervously. He dreaded the moment when the full details of the marriage agreement would be revealed. He had to hope the French king would not make too much of a show as he took command of his new territories.
Similar Books
