The Red Rose of Anjou - Plaidy Jean (книги онлайн полные версии бесплатно .TXT) 📗

The others would go back to Calais. Edward was very eager to stay with Warwick. So he with Salisbury and Warwick made his way to the Devon coast where they hoped to find a ship to carry them across the Channel. It would have been too dangerous to attempt to sail from Sandwich or any of the ports in the south-east, for their enemies would surely be lying in wait for them guessing that Warwick would try to make his way back to Calais.

Edward enjoyed the adventure. His attachment to Warwick grew with every hour. Warwick was a hero. He was so resourceful, so strong, all that Edward himself would like to be.

There were some alarming moments during the journey. Warwick was certain that Margaret would have sent out warnings to all her friends in the country that they might keep a watchful eye for the fugitives. And if ever she had York, Warwick or Salisbury in her hands she would lose no time in getting rid of them. It would be certain death.

Warwick was watchful. On one or two occasions he was sure they came near to capture but in due course they came to Dynham Manor which was owned by John Dynham, a trusted Yorkist.

It was a great relief to sleep in a bed; to sit at a table and eat good food and to feel comparatively safe, but they could not Unger, of course. They were close to the sea and the sooner they left England the better for them. It was a long journey across the water but they would be safer there than they were staying here where they might be discovered at any time. Guernsey belonged to Warwick, as a fief of the Crown, so he could make for Guernsey first and from there could find out what was happening in Calais and whether it would be safe to return there.

John Dynham was an ardent Yorkist. He would do everything he could to speed them on their way. At great risk he procured a boat with a party of fishermen to sail it to Guernsey. Meanwhile his wife kept them hidden.

In due course they sailed for Guernsey but they had not gone far when a storm arose. The fishermen were terrified.

Warwick shouted at them to stop their trembling and look to their tasks. ‘Take the ship to Guernsey,’ he cried. ‘That is your duty.’

‘Master,’ said their spokesman, ‘we be but poor fishermen. We know little of boats such as this. We’ve never been near Guernsey in our lives.’

Warwick looked at the consternation of those about him and cried out: ‘By God, I have not come so far to be lost at sea.’

Whereupon he seized the tiller and set the course westward.

He took the boat through the storm and they reached Guernsey in safety.

Edward watching thought: Warwick is a hero. I am going to be exactly like him.

In Guernsey they learned that Calais had remained loyal to Warwick and they immediately set sail. When they arrived

Warwick was welcomed with acclaim. The people were with him to a man; but he sensed their uneasiness.

He explained this to Edward. He had taken to Edward. He was certain that here could be a future King. If York was not quite fit for the throne, this son of his would be. Warwick meant to create him in his own image. He was going to make a king of him—which Warwick intended to be himself—in all but name. There was that in his character which made him prefer the role of manipulator. Providing the puppets went his way, that was the role to have. Moreover he could hardly lay claim to the throne himself, and it was essential for a man to have that claim.

York had it. So had young Edward.

Warwick was supreme. Edward saw that clearly. Here he was after fleeing from his enemies, nothing left to him but this governorship of Calais which undoubtedly would be taken from him in a matter of weeks, yet he was jaunty and still sure of himself. There was something indestructible about him.

Edward wanted to be just like that.

Warwick admitted that they had suffered a defeat. War was like that. Up one day, down the next. It was the final battle that counted. And that was to come. They would now begin planning their return and Edward should see how it was done. He would learn what tactics to follow. How to play on men’s emotions.

Warwick certainly knew how to do that. He only had to appear to be cheered and idolized. Edward listened to him talking to his men.

‘Yes, we have lost this battle. Temporarily we are on the run. But look you, my friends, we have this port of Calais. It is the most important port in Europe. They will try to take it away from me, but are we going to allow that? Indeed we are not.’

The burghers of Calais pledged themselves to Warwick. They lent him the money he needed for his army. They put their faith in him, rather than a weak government from England headed by the Queen.

As he had expected the Queen immediately appointed the Duke of Somerset as Captain of Calais.

‘He may come here,’ said Warwick, ‘but he will not land in Calais, I promise you that.’

Edward watched with growing excitement. He could scarcely tear himself from Warwick’s side.

When Somerset’s fleet appeared before Calais Warwick gave

the order to let off the cannonade. Somerset, furious, could not return to England but he knew that it would be folly to attempt to land. He therefore turned aside and landed some way down the coast at Guisnes where he bribed the custodian of the castle and his men to allow him to take possession.

He had brought a considerable company of men with him, but the ships in which they sailed were manned by sailors of Kent. The men of Kent had always greatly admired Warwick. He was their hero. They declared that the winds were blowing their ships off course. The same winds blew them into Calais harbour.

How Edward laughed when they arrived. Warwick went to greet them, his armour shining, looking like the hero of Legend.

There was feasting for these men but the soldiers they brought with them had a different reception. Many of these had at one time been Warwick’s adherents under the command of Trollope and had deserted to the Lancastrians at Ludlow.

They were despatched to dungeons.

‘Always show strength,’ he told Edward. ‘These men have deserted. The rest of them are honest King’s men.’

Edward listened avidly as he addressed them.

He gave the honest King’s men free choice. He would welcome them to his service but only if they wished to come. They could speak honestly. They need have no fear of that. Honesty was a quality he respected. It was only traitors who would suffer under his hands.

Many were bemused by him. It was the effect Warwick had on men, Edward was realizing more every day.

The ranks of his troops were considerably increased.

Even so, many of the soldiers declared they were the King’s servants and wished to serve only under him.

‘Very good,’ said Warwick. ‘You are loyal soldiers. You shall be sent back to England.’

He was just; he was a shining example. Edward was not the only one who thought he resembled a god.

After he had commanded that those who had deserted him should be executed, he sent a sly message to the Duke of Somerset fretting at Guisnes.

‘I must thank you, my lord, for your very excellent stores. I have found them of the utmost use in my cause.’

No, one defeat could not be the end of a man like Warwick.

The red rose had but temporarily triumphed over the white.

###

Warwick was looking ahead. Life was an exciting game and the best of all was making Kings. He had lost his confidence in the Duke of York, but not in York’s eldest son. Edward Earl of March had the makings of a King. Those masculine blond looks of his were pure Plantagenet. The boy was springing up. He was now all of six feet four inches. In an assembly he towered above the rest. The eyes of women followed him. Instil wisdom into that handsome head and he would have a King indeed.

He took the young March into his confidence. He explained his actions when it was wise to do so. He did not tell him that he was supplanting his father in Warwick’s mind. That he had decided to mould a different model; to attach his strings to a new puppet.