The Lancastrian Queen

Chapter 11

Queen Isabella did not reply to the letter written on the behalf of her daughter; nor did King René. There was no negotiation between England and France anymore. The land of Normandy was gone for Henry and Margaret.

As if the loss was not enough, there was a man known by “John Mortimer” causing disturbance. He held a rebellion in Kent, daring to claim the White Hart Inn, in Southwark. Henry, infuriated, gathered his troops to defeat the rebels and marched to the south only to find out Mortimer had fled. The King was sure they would return; he waited for a few days, camping with his army, yet no one came. Finally, Henry ordered that a small part of the army would follow him, on an attempt to find the rebellion on the surroundings, leaving most of the troops in Southwark. As it happened, Henry was ambushed by Mortimer in Sevenoaks. The rebels overpowered the King’s troops, and rushed to London to take the city.

“What am I going to do?” the Queen asked in desperation as the news of the rebellion’s approach arrived. “Will they kill me?”

“No,” the Duchess replied, making a sign for all the afflicted ladies to leave the room. She took Margaret’s hands firmly. “No, Margaret. Listen to me now. They cannot touch you. You are the Queen of England.”

“They hate me, Jacquetta.” The tears were starting to form, blurring her sight. “I fear for my life…”

“I know. But you must be strong. You’re the Queen. You must protect your domains and your people.”

“How?! I am just a woman, Jacquetta. They are thousands of villains!”

“You might be a woman,” Jacquetta replied without smiling. “But you will never be ‘just’ a woman.”

“What should I do?”

“First thing you must do is to keep the King’s council around you. Meet with them and keep them on your side. And act normally. Do not let anyone see you are afraid. Have dinner, and invite your ladies to your room to sew and read. Promote peace.”

“What if they attack me?”

“No English man is coward to the point of attacking their Queen.” Jacquetta assured with her fresh English pride. “Now come with me. I will walk with you. Try finding Sir Edmund Beaufort, or Sir William de la Pole.”

Margaret looked up and brushed away the tears with the back of her hand. She transformed from a scared girl into a fearless queen, a ritual Jacquetta had seen before, and she admired the young woman for having learnt so fast how to conceal her emotions. They walked calmly, as if London had never been invaded, as if the King was not away, as if all was merry and well. But only Jacquetta could feel the coldness of Margaret’s hand, and her shaken grip.

“Sir Edmund!” Margaret said in a loud voice as a young man walked through the other side of the corridor. Edmund Beaufort immediately stopped and turned to see who had called him, and upon the sight of the Queen of England, he respectfully bowed.

“Your Majesty,” he replied. “I was looking for you.”

“Well, look no longer, sir. Can we talk?”

Edmund did not reply; he simply walked fast to Margaret, offering his hand. There were many people around them, most looking worried and confused on the Queen’s apparent calm. Jacquetta let go of Margaret’s hand she accepted Edmund’s arm, and walked a few steps behind the two of them.

“I’ve heard about what happened,” Margaret said in a low voice to Edmund. “But, forgive me, I am yet to know the details. Could you please inform me about our current situation?”

“Madam, there is nothing to fear,” he assured her. “The rebellion is not violent towards you. They mean no harm. They have occupied the city but they have no intentions of attacking the palace. And even if they do, I am ready to protect you with my own life.”

There was a small pause, where Margaret sighed in relief.

“I am not in danger?” she asked.

“No. I promise you, no harm will come to you, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Sir Edmund. You have eased my heart now. I cannot thank you enough.”

“If I can do anything to see my Queen happy, I shall do it.” Edmund bowed his head. “I am glad to know I was able to cheer you up.”

“I do not have many friends here,” Margaret said briskly. “Jacquetta is my only trusted friend. I do not have many people on my side.”

Edmund stopped walking and took Margaret’s hands, facing her with a serious expression. “You should always consider me your friend and ally, Your Majesty. I am a loyal servant of my King, my country, and of yours. Henry is my best friend. We grew up together and we were playmates. I would never betray him. And you are his wife, so I extend my blind loyalty and love to you as well.”

Margaret gave him a nervous smile. “You are very kind. I will surely remember this, Sir Edmund, and I will surely think of you as a friend.”

The rebellion did not last for too long; Edmund Beaufort was right when he said they meant no harm. Mostly, they were only Yorkist men wishing to be heard. London itself took care of keeping them outside, showing their devotion and love to their Lancastrian King and Queen. In a week, King Henry had returned and the rebels left the court. Margaret welcomed her husband warmly; not only Henry was back, he had also restored the peace in her world.

“Not for very long,” Jacquetta said that night as she brushed the Queen’s hair. The King had announced he would visit her rooms, and Margaret could not be more excited. “You must be careful, Margaret. The rebellion was only a start. You must keep in mind its true meaning; the English are showing displeasure. They have not yet forgotten about Normandy, and they aren’t very keen with the French now.”

“All is well, Jacquetta,” Margaret replied with a smile. “No one will dare to attack us.”

“No? You know this isn’t true. Besides, have you received any reply from your mother?”

The smile vanished from the queen’s face.

“I am sure she has been busy.”

“Oh, I am sure.” Jacquetta sighed, removing the coat from Margaret’s shoulder and leaving the room.