LITMIR.BIZ

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Shakespeare, that he was captured then murdered by Edward, aided by his two brothers. What is known is that those Lancastrians who sought sanctuary within Tewkesbury Abbey were dragged out, given a hasty trial then executed in the marketplace. A few days later Margaret of Anjou was captured and handed over to Edward, who displayed her like a prize of war during his triumphal procession through the streets of London.

      With the son dead, it was the father’s turn. On the morning of the 22^nd of May, 1471, Henry the Sixth was found dead in the Wakefield Tower. Although the official cause of death was reported as “pure displeasure and melancholy”, the chronicler John Warkworth wrote the following: -

      ‘And the same night that King Edward came to London, King Henry, being inward in prison in the Tower, was put to death, the 21st of May, on a Tuesday night, between eleven and twelve of the clock, being then at the Tower the Duke of Gloucester, brother to King Edward, and many others; and on the morrow he was chested and brought to Paul's, and his face was open that every man might see him; and in his lying he bled on the pavement there; and afterward at the Black Friars was brought, and there he bled new and fresh; and from thence he was carried to Chertsey Abbey in a boat, and buried there in our Lady Chapel.’

      ‘So,’ Gail mused, her head tilted to one side, ‘Richard did murder the old King, just like Shakespeare said he did.’

      ‘Looks like it,’ Laura replied with a shrug. ‘Chalk one up under the heading “regicide” Gail.’

      ‘What’s that?’

      ‘A king killer.’

      ‘Nice one.’

      ‘Well, you asked about Richard's early years and, there it is. Fair to say isn't it, that late in the evening of May 21st, 1471, not yet nineteen years old, Richard Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester, became a major force in his own right. He had learned some powerful lessons on the road to adulthood, many from individuals whose ruthlessness was as uncompromising as it was heartless. A product of his age, we can tut-tut all we want but, unless we’re prepared to put ourselves in his shoes and see the world as he saw it, none of us can pass judgment.

      ‘Richard Gloucester lived in a violent age, rent with civil war, treachery and sudden death. Twice he was exiled, declared a traitor and stripped of wealth and power. His father, brother and an uncle were brutally slain, their bodies defiled. He had seen Edward betrayed by his own brother George, and by Warwick, a man Richard had looked up to and admired almost like a father. In the final frame Richard walked from the Tower of London with the blood of a dead king on his hands, as cold and ruthless as all the rest. Political pragmatism expressed in its most lethal form.’

      ‘Is it too late to do Mary, Queen of Scots instead?’

      ‘I’m going after this man Gail, and before I’m done, I’ll have some answers to quite a few questions. One thing I do know already though, he was a thoroughly not nice proposition.’ Slowly she began to gather her material together.

      When she looked up, Gail was gnawing at her lower lip, her concern obvious. ‘What do you mean by go after?’

      ‘You’ll see.’

      *****

      ‘Leave her alone Gail,’ Wayne said as he tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn.

      ‘I’m worried about her. Roger says she’s practically obsessed with this man. She’s not eating. I bet you she’s lost ten, fifteen pounds since you last saw her.’

      ‘So what? Laura’s tall and slim, and you’re neither. Sometimes I think you’re jealous of her.’

      ‘That’s not fair,’ Gail huffed. ‘If anything, she’s jealous of me. You know she loves the girls. If she’d just stop and even consider the idea of starting a family, then maybe everything would be okay again.’ Tears came to her eyes. ‘I know Roger’s not happy.’

      ‘I’ve told you before, it’s none of your business,’ Wayne warned.

      ‘Roger says that …’

      ‘Roger says, Roger says. That’s the problem, isn’t it? The both of you, nattering at her all the time. Let her be. Losing her parents like that and no family to turn to, I’d think that you, of all people would be more supportive of her.’

      ‘I am, but …’

      ‘No buts. Laura’s paying for this trip, so why don’t you just enjoy it. If she’s got an interest in this king, whoever he is, I think that’s great. At least she’s getting out of herself.’

      ‘This king is a nasty piece of work.’ Gail tugged the bed covers up to her chin.

      ‘From what I remember of the English monarchy, none of the kings were very nice and a few of the queens too.’ Wayne chuckled. ‘Look on the bright side. Maybe next year she’ll switch to Egyptian history and you’ll finally get to see the Nile.’

      Gail sighed. ‘Maybe you’re right, but I can’t shake the feeling that she has something in mind, something … I don’t know. There’s been some strange people at her parent’s cottage this summer. Roger says they’re wackos.’

      ‘Roger would,’ Wayne said as another yawn erupted. ‘I’m tired. I’ve had a busy day and, from the sounds of it, so have you. Go, have a great time and don’t worry about me, the girls or anything else for that matter.’

      ‘No doubt you and Roger have things planned. I hope you two behave yourselves.’

      ‘Didn’t Roger tell you? He’s planning a business trip.’ Wayne rolled over. ‘I wish my firm had such exotic locales.’ He stared at Gail fixedly. ‘As I said, give Laura a break.’

      ‘And what’s that suppose to mean?’

      ‘I think you know exactly what it means.’

      Day 1

      London, England

      This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,

      This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,

      Shakespeare –

      The Tragedy of King Richard the Second

      [Act II, Scene 1]

      ‘Breakfast is coming,’ Laura whispered as she slipped into her seat.

      Gail pushed her blanket back, stretched effusively and yawned. ‘Where did you go?’

      ‘I went to the back of the plane. I found two empty crew seats.’

      ‘I hope you didn’t try to sneak a cigarette. I’ve heard that passengers who do get handed a parachute.’

      ‘I’m patched.’

      ‘You’re what?’

      ‘Nicotine patches - I’m on the drip feed.’ Laura smile wickedly. ‘What to try one? They’re guaranteed to be a blast for a non-smoker.’

      Gail fixed Laura with her best we are not amused look and then went to work trying to extricate her carry-on bag from under the seat in front. Laura turned in her seat far enough to allow Gail to pass. Before she moved on to join the small queue forming at the rear of the plane, Gail leaned over and whispered in Laura’s ear. ‘Actually, I’m proud of you. You’ve held up very well, with or without aid.’

      ‘It ministers, it does not gratify,’ Laura growled.

      Gail patted her shoulder. ‘Poor monkey.’

      *****

      The Boeing 747 descended

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