Caught In The Kings Spell

A Meeting That Could Change A Country

Greenwich Palace - Winter 1525.

Mary Carey was six months pregnant with a child, if Henry was truly honest, he didn't want it and wasn't sure was his in the first place - William Carey and his wife had been together around the Easter when the child would have been conceived. It mattered little, this child like the first would not be recognised even if it was a son. Henry had recognised Henry Fitzroy, the child conceived with Elizabeth Blount and he would recognise no other bastard as his own - he had been the exception, after all Henry had loved Elizabeth for many years, Mary had been a deep infatuation born out of idle curiosity thanks to King Francis of France speaking about her... talents. He knew that her father, Thomas Boleyn was annoyed and frustrated that he had failed to acknowledge the first child, a daughter but no man acknowledged a female bastard unless her was a fool. No woman would not rule this country, legitimate or not. The last time a woman had been Queen the wars it had caused had nearly destroyed the country and divided families, actually Henry thought - in a similar way the war his father had fought and won had done. He didn't know what to do. In truth, he knew that it had been mistake to act on the weakness he has felt for Mary Carey, he'd discarded Elizabeth Blount so easily for the new distraction and now he regretted it. Mary Carey had he thought, been someone to love and to lose himself in but the passion was gone. It had been gone for months but he'd not even realised it till it was too late. The room he was in was filled with light but Henry was filled with darkness. He knew he couldn't carry on the relationship even if the child was a boy, his distraction was over. He made a decision that moment he would tell Mary as soon as he could see her, to tell her that their relationship was over but she, her children and husband would be taken care of. Her silence would be bought once and for all.

His pacing ceased as he realised he needed to do something, the chill he had suffered from the week before has stopped him from enjoying the ride that would have left him with a clear head, visiting his Queen would only lead to heartache as he would witness the woman who had left him without a male heir. Henry loved Catherine, she had been a part of his life since boyhood when she had been the wife of Arthur, the brother who should have King, Henry had been enamoured with the daughter of Isabella and Ferdinand of Spain, but he had never envisioned she would become his wife and this to have his life. No, he should have been possibly in Italy serving the Holy Father as a loyal member of the Church not being the King of England, Ireland and France and worrying about the future of his country, marriage and legacy. Making his way through the halls from his chambers and out into the snow covered yard he knew there was one thing he could do that wouldn't cause him harm but would distract him a little. He could hunt. Catherine hated him doing it in case he was injured but he was King, Gods representative on Earth he could do as he damn well pleased.

Mounting his horse and dismissing the men who followed his every move Henry made his way out into the grounds. He needed time alone, just him and the freedom that riding Robur gave him. The snow that had fallen in the early hours had left the ground covered in a white blanket and Henry soon discovered that hunting was not an option even though he was excellent at it, and accepted that he would just be able to ride out and not kill the many deer and boar that walked the forested areas he was now in. He was alone with the two things that gave him comfort, his sword and the bow that had been handed down to him from his Father and then late brother. He urged the horse on, there in front of him where several deer, Catherine would be pleased - the Queen enjoyed venison and killed by her husband was heard often to say it was the food of the Gods. Slowing the horse to a slow canter, Henry took aim at a young deer, his aim as it always was - true. The beast fell and Henry dropped to the floor and walked up, his dagger out in seconds as he began to gut the animal preparing it for the kitchen in advance, after all, Henry had been taught not only how to hunt but how to prepare the animal afterwards, tying the legs together he slung it to Robur and remounted, the hunt was now on, the taste of blood was within Henry and he wanted another to sate it. As he rode on his arrows found their home in a further three beasts and the a wild boar, a special favourite of the King to not only kill but enjoy at his table.