EXCERPT
The
Usurper King
Hal was surprised that his father requested he come along
to
Eltham Palace, but he kept his feelings to himself. They
were accompanied by the usual small army of retainers.
The king rarely went anywhere without his harbingers to
requisition lodging, his purveyors who rode ahead and
commandeered supplies, his knights, esquires, clerks,
and household servants. Although one of Henry's
complaints about Richard's court was the excessive
personnel, in reality, he didn't reduce their numbers
one bit.
Hal looked to his side where
his brother Thomas rode stiff and straight in his
saddle, conscious of his new status as Lord High Steward
of England. Whether they were ready or not, Henry's sons
were to be put into positions of responsibility. Thomas
glanced back at Hal and raised his chin, expressing his
resentment at his older brother's honors.
Once they reached the palace,
Henry brought Hal and Thomas into his library. This was
his favorite place, for he loved his manuscripts and
books. He rarely invited anyone into this private space,
and the boys were duly impressed. Gesturing for his sons
to sit, Henry walked over to a two-tiered desk that also
served as a bookcase. He ran his finger down the
embossed binding of his favorite volume. It was apparent
he was gathering his thoughts, and the boys watched him
curiously.
Finally, he turned. "There's
something I must tell you, and this is very difficult
for me. Word has reached me that Richard Plantagenet has
passed away."
Thomas looked at Hal, for he
knew how close his brother was to the former king. For
his part, Hal was having trouble accepting the words.
"Passed away?" Hal said. "You
mean died?"
Henry looked pained. He had
agonized over telling Hal the truth. This was more than
a state secret; if Hal knew Richard had escaped, there
was no telling what he would do. It wouldn't be
surprising if he decided to go out and search for the
king, regardless of the scandal—especially if he found
him. The boy's loyalty to Richard was as astonishing as
it was inconvenient. That was the one thing Henry had
never considered in all his plans. Hal had been a
hostage; where did this affection come from? What did
Richard do to deserve it?
His mouth suddenly dry, Henry
wished he had some wine. "I'm told that after Richard
learned about the rebellion and the death of his
supporters, he stopped eating." He paused, waiting for
Hal's reaction. So far there was none. "My constable
sent in a priest to convince Richard that starving
himself to death was a mortal sin. After that, he tried
to eat, but he had gone so far his throat constricted
and he couldn't swallow. He died shortly thereafter."
Hal looked down at his hands;
he was clasping them too tightly. When he raised his
head, his face was drawn.
"I'm supposed to believe
this?" he said.
Henry held his breath. If his
own son didn't accept this story, how was he going to
convince his detractors?
"You know King Richard,"
Thomas said scornfully. "He was always one for
immoderate behavior."
"How do you know?" Hal
shot back. "You know nothing about him."
"I know he was vindictive,
selfish, and spiteful."
"That's a lie!" Hal lunged,
grabbing Thomas by the tunic. Alarmed, his brother tried
to push him away, but Hal pulled him out of the chair
and fell on top of him, pinning him to the floor.
Henry was appalled. "Stop it!
Both of you!" Hal was about to punch his brother in the
face when Henry grasped his arm and yanked him away.
"How dare you fight in my presence!"
Breathing heavily, Hal broke
loose from his grasp. He glared at his father. "You
starved him to death!"
Shaking his head, Henry
stretched out a hand. His son turned away. "No, Hal. I
swear it was none of my doing."
Still on the floor, Thomas
wiped his mouth. "You're a disgrace!"
"Stop it, Thomas," Henry
growled. "Don't make things worse." He took a step
toward Hal. "Sit down, son."
Hal was about to refuse, but
his common sense reasserted itself. Sullenly, he walked
over to a chair and dropped onto it. Thomas got off the
floor and went to the other side of the room.
"Listen to me," Henry said.
"Do you really think I would have ordered Richard killed
so soon after the rebellion? I'm not a fool. We still
have many enemies, and this is one disturbance I didn't
need, on top of everything else."
Breathing heavily, Hal stared
at the floor.
"I was as shocked as you to
hear about this," Henry added. "You must believe me.
There were many times I was urged by others to execute
him, and I always refused. Why would I resort to such a
terrible crime?"
The logic in this argument
wasn't lost on Hal. He didn't want to believe his father
was capable of such an act. It was too terrible to
contemplate. Slowly he nodded and Henry let out his
breath.
"I am sorry, father."
"It's all right. I'm afraid
you won't be the only one to accuse me of his death."
"We must prepare a proper
funeral, to reassure the people."
"I've already given the
orders. He will be brought back to London in slow stages
from...Pontefract."
Pontefract. Hal hadn't been
told where King Richard was kept. It was just one more
indignity he had been forced to swallow. "He died, all
alone. Abandoned. Poor man," he mumbled.
Henry heard him but decided
it was better to pretend not to. Besides, he needed a
drink.
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