Grace FitzRoy and Cecily Neville were two sides of one deal. On Loveday in the year 1458, when York and Lancaster came together ceremonially to reconcile their two warring factions, the Duke of York and King of England struck a deal. A daughter for...
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THREE SUNS IN THE SKY
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February 1461, Herefordshire
When Grace was given the title of Duchess of Sussex, she hadn't expected to ride with the troops. It was a most uncomfortable thing, as all the men were layered with sweat and grime and had few chances to wash. The horses were no better, and the winter was harsh, so many of them grew weak and died. The men were forced to trudge through mounds of snow, pushing on even in snow storms. And Grace was there to ride beside them, though she wished more than anything that she wasn't.
The chill seemed to have permanently seeped into her bones, cursing her to be forever cold down to the marrow. On the few days the sun shined, it provided little warmth and only blinded them as it reflected off the snow.
Cecily was no better. Now Grace's lady-in-waiting, she went everywhere that she did. The position was only honorary. There was no doubt that Cecily had once again become a bargaining chip, a captive to hold a blade to when things got out of hand. The girl was aware of it, though she never made any complaints nor raised any sort of protest. She stayed as far away from the men as possible, comfortable only around the guards they'd taken from Pembroke. They were the same ones that guarded her at the castle, and therefore she knew them the most. When it was possible, she hid in her tent, not coming out unless it was absolutely required.
It did not escape Grace that Cecily would be standing on the opposite side of the battlefield from her family. Not by choice, but she would be. It was much the same with Grace back when she was still staying with the Yorks at Ludlow. Those days when she waited with bated breath for the armies to arrive had been the worst of her life. And she was in a castle, in her warmed rooms and with her servants. She couldn't imagine what Cecily must've been feeling then.
The day Jasper had told her she would have to call upon her troops, Grace thought he was joking. She was nearing her twelfth birthday, too young to ever consider such a thing. How could she expect men twice – mayhaps even thrice – her age to fight for her, to listen to her commands and gather beneath her banner? She herself didn't want to fight in this war. Not in the slightest.
But Jasper insisted and even helped her write the letters to raise the troops. Most of the men answered, to Grace's great surprise. She supposed they had little choice in the matter. The lack of protests from the lesser lords in her lands was something of much larger note. Grace wasn't glad about it though. Little over a month had passed since Edmund's death, and the loss still weighed heavily on her. It was a voice at the back of her head asking, is this right?
Edward's armies were uncomfortable close to them. From what Jasper had told her, his plan was to cut their armies off and slaughter as many Lancastrians as possible. The initial solution was to outmanoeuvre the enemy, but considering the Yorkist banners flying in the distance, marking the presence of the now heir to the throne, that failed.
