The King's Dogge (7 page)

He gestured for me to sit. After a while he looked at me.

‘To do all of this, Francis, I need men. If I asked for your loyalty, would you give it to me?'

I stared back at him. From all that I had heard of Gloucester and what he had told me, I had no doubt that he would be an excellent ruler in the North. Despite my instinctive reluctance, I found myself liking him for his openness and directness. Additionally, he was correct – Warwick and Montague were dead and I had no other loyalties. To pledge loyalty to him would undoubtedly lead to an offer of a military role. In time, I came to a decision.

‘No, my lord.'

His head snapped up.

‘No!' he said in a surprised voice. ‘And why, may I ask, is that?'

I hoped my ineloquence would not make me seem blunter that I wished to appear.

‘Because I do not know you, my lord,' I said. ‘I was with the Earl of Warwick and Marquis Montague for four years and in that time their kindness and care made me want to give them my loyalty. It did not happen immediately but grew over time, and it was, I believe, reciprocal. At Barnet, Montague made sure that my life was spared.'

Conscious of the fact that I was damning my future I blundered on.

‘If I agreed to give you my loyalty today, my lord, it would only be because I wished you to send me to fight on the borders, and that would not be the honest way to agree to give you loyalty.'

He looked at me silently for a while and I knew that I had probably offended him very deeply. I sighed. I had quickly come to respect Gloucester and felt the potential of growing to like him immensely.

Then he smiled; his small, even teeth gleaming white in that strong face.

‘I did not say, Francis, but I probably admire honesty more than loyalty as a quality. I wish I had more such as you; it would make my task here easier.'

He rose to his feet and we walked back slowly towards the squat castle of Middleham in the distance.

‘If you refuse me loyalty,' he said after a while, ‘would you give me something else?'

‘Of course, my lord,' I said.

‘Without even asking what it is?'

His eyebrows rose. I stared down at him.

‘No, tell me what you want and I will give it.'

‘You won't give me your loyalty, and yet you will give me something else. It could be the lands you stand to inherit or your wealth or something else you would not want to give up. Why is that then?' he teased.

I paused.

‘I suppose I respect you, my lord. I admired the way you fought at Barnet and, from what I hear, at Tewkesbury. I respect the loyalty you showed to your brother, and I admire your vision of how you will make the North peaceful and prosperous.'

I paused, a little embarrassed.

‘I like the way you have spoken today,' I added. ‘You had no cause to be so honest.'

It was a pity that it had all been in vain, but I would give him what he wanted and depart.

‘So what is it that you want from me, my lord?'

He smiled.

‘Your friendship, Francis?'

It was the last thing I expected.

‘Why?' I said without thinking.

Gloucester laughed at my astonishment.

‘I have hundreds of followers and, until today, no one has ever said no to me. Men protest their loyalty and some may mean it but most do not. By saying what you have today, I know that I can trust you.'

I nodded in confusion. The day was turning out to be rather different than I had anticipated.

‘I have a job for you,' continued Gloucester. ‘I want you to go to the West March and restore order in that region. Recruit men, drive the Scots out and make it peaceful. I will keep Sir William, as deputy, in nominal control, but he'll stay here with me. You will be in charge there by my express wish.'

‘You're putting me in charge!'

He nodded.

‘Ratcliffe told me that Montague anticipated you would be an excellent soldier one day and, frankly, the place needs a lot of attention and someone with skill. We can talk tomorrow about what resources I can help you with, although these are few.'

‘I do not know how to thank you, Your Grace.'

‘Perhaps,' he suggested gently, ‘you could call me Richard, and do not thank me yet for it will be a hard job, but you will always have my support and friendship.'

I walked on happily; the future looked suddenly very exciting.

‘Tell me about Montague's plan at Barnet,' Richard said. ‘What was he aiming to do?' He grinned. ‘Edward thought that we would have great difficulty in winning the day.'

I hesitated. I still felt immense loyalty to my old masters Warwick and Montague, and it seemed to be wrong to betray them by revealing their battle plans. On the other hand, Richard of Gloucester plainly trusted me and had requested my friendship.

Richard gave me an amused glance. I guessed he could read my thoughts. With reluctance, I told him of the plan and he whistled softly when he learned of how Oxford should have turned Edward's flank.

‘That would have crushed us,' he said soberly.

‘How did you overcome Exeter on our left flank?' I asked with growing confidence. ‘He had a good defensive position and the support of Warwick's reserve.'

‘By luck mainly,' said Richard. ‘In the fog, we overshot his line and came up on his flank.' He narrowed his eyes. ‘To be truthful, Francis, I am not sure how committed to Warwick he or his men were. They did not put up the resistance they should have done.' He smiled. ‘I expect one day Exeter will pay the price for that.'
⁴

I made no reply. The talk of Barnet had brought back memories which saddened me and, for a fleeting moment, I felt a sudden surge of resentment towards the small man who walked alongside me.

He stumbled suddenly; instinctively I grabbed him to prevent him from falling. He straightened himself and glanced down curiously at the uneven ground before smiling up at me.

‘I trust you will support me this well in the West March,' said Richard of Gloucester.

C
HAPTER
4

I
t was with considerable misgivings that I led the small party of servants, guards and three wagons to Carlisle, the capital of the West March. Richard's ducal council had, I learned, been less than enthusiastic about my appointment and I feared a similar reception in Westmorland and Cumberland. I was, after all, only nineteen and a squire with limited military experience who knew nothing of the region. I had talked of my fears to Richard Ratcliffe after my final briefing at Middleham.

‘As I see and understand it Richard, the duke sees the situation there as being a mess. Carlisle was successfully defended against the Scots in 1461, but since then the city and the castle have been allowed to decay. Most of the people in the region have little time for the duke – he admitted as much, saying that they were all Warwick's people and feel no desire to pledge an oath of allegiance to him. To top it all off, this is the one place on the border where the Scots are particularly belligerent.'

He nodded soberly.

‘It's worse than that, Francis,' he replied. ‘Certainly many of the people there were Warwick's men, but with his death there is a void. The duke cannot afford to spend time there and all the old families – the Musgraves, the Salkeds, the Armstrongs and so on – do not know him.'

He snorted.

‘They have little time for the king either. He has never been there, and all he wants from them are their taxes. They argue that, instead of paying, they should receive financial help against the Scots, but they receive nothing. Since Warwick's death – and he
did
help them – they have become more independent. They will defend their lands and homes but ask them to fight outside their own region or in Scotland; they will laugh at you outright.'

‘So what is Richard of Gloucester expecting me to achieve? A miracle?' I said in exasperation. ‘How am I supposed to motivate these people when neither the king nor his brother are prepared to help and the one person they did respect is dead?'

Ratcliffe shrugged.

‘In reality I don't suppose anyone is expecting you to achieve a great deal. Just do the best you can.'

The only comforting factor I could think of was that I had the backing of the Duke of Gloucester and, apparently, his friendship. He had acted decisively in sending messengers to announce my appointment. I had been given wide-ranging powers at a young age to assess the situation and take what actions I deemed suitable to repel the Scots and improve security. Having done this, I was free to harry the Scots.
⁵
In a year's time, I should report back to the duke, although Ratcliffe would come over from time to time to see how I was managing.

Built on a defensive ridge to control the crossing from Scotland on the River Eden, Carlisle had been established by the Romans and had remained the main fortress in the western part of the borders since those days. It should have been a thriving city with its cathedral and markets full of bustling pilgrims on the way to St Ninian's or St Kintigern's in Glasgow. I found it quiet and depressing.

‘The number of citizens has declined with the decrease in trade,' explained Sir Christopher Moresby, the keeper of the royal castle in Carlisle. ‘There is a prohibition against trading with the Scots and merchants fear to bring their goods up so close to the borders for fear of raiding parties.'

‘There is no port nearby?' I asked.

‘Maryport is the nearest and then there is Ravenglass further to the south, but we cannot safeguard the track between here and Maryport,' replied Sir Christopher. He looked grim. ‘We cannot protect the merchants or the pilgrims and, given their condition, I am not sure we can defend the city walls or even the castle for very long.'

We left the cathedral and walked up to the castle. I noticed the masonry at the main gatehouse was badly decayed, although the drawbridge seemed sound.

Inside, the castle's condition was much the same with the defences weakened. In theory, once an enemy broke through the gates he would find himself in the outer bailey under fire from all sides. In reality, parts of the walls were actually crumbling so only limited firepower could be used. I felt downcast at the signs of neglect evident everywhere. I asked after the garrison's strength.

‘The castle should have 300 men,' Sir Christopher replied. ‘With that I could maintain an effective defence and keep the paths in the immediate vicinity secure. Currently I have sixty-two.'

‘Why so few?'

‘Lack of wages,' came the prompt reply. ‘Soldiers tend to desert when they do not get paid.'

‘Your own wages?' I asked suspiciously.

It would not be the first time a garrison commander had pocketed his men's wages. He looked at me steadily.

‘I am owed two years' pay,' he said firmly, ‘since the little we actually receive I give to the men.' He paused and frowned. ‘The whole place has been allowed to decay, Gloucester ignores us, and so before you run back to him, Lovell, I'll tell you what I believe, so that there are no misunderstandings.'

He paused in thought for a moment, a small earnest man with grizzled hair and a determined expression.

‘There are three Marches. The Earl of Northumberland has the East, and he has the money, the resources and the castles to make that secure. The Middle March is also safe. But here? Gloucester is our warden, but he does not come. He has sent no money, no soldiers and,' he waved his hand about, ‘you can see the result.'

He looked at me defiantly.

‘In Warwick's time, the place was prosperous. The Scots kept their distance so there was security and trade. Since then, as you have seen, the city is quiet and will soon be almost empty. The Scots are rampant and people are frightened.'

I looked at him curiously.

‘Then why do you stay?' I asked.

The defiance faded from his face; he spoke calmly and with total conviction.

‘I was appointed as constable here and I will remain as constable for as long as I am able to. I won't just run away.' But then his expression hardened. ‘I have always done my duty. Given help, I could make this castle strong and maintain order in the surrounding area. Given encouragement, I could persuade others to assist against the Scots, and with money I could pay my men and recruit more. But we have had none of these things,' he said sadly. ‘Our appeals are ignored.' He eyed me up and down. ‘And now Richard of Gloucester sends us a young squire without lands and influence, and we are expected to obey him.'

He gave a little laugh.

‘You asked why I have remained as constable, Lovell? I don't suppose I'll be in the position much longer when you run back to your absentee duke to tell him what I have just said. Frankly, I don't much care. It might actually make him do something useful in the region he is supposed to command.'

He looked at me contemptuously.

‘So, will you leave tonight or wait until tomorrow?'

For a moment I was tempted to leave there and then. The situation was much worse than I'd imagined, and already my authority was being questioned. Evidently I was seen as a stranger and a servant of an unpopular lord. I looked down at him squarely.

‘Neither, Sir Christopher.'

He blinked rapidly.

‘What do you mean?'

‘What I just said,' I replied. ‘I am not going back to the duke. I have been appointed to do a job and I will do it. If you wish to remain as constable here, I would be pleased. If not, then go.'

He looked confused.

‘But we need help!'

‘And you will get it,' I said.

He looked doubtful.

‘In the meantime, prepare quarters for me and my people in the castle.'

He nodded and turned away.

I sat quietly rubbing my chin. Despite my brave words, I had not the slightest idea of what to do first.