Agincourt (Historical Novel). G. P. R. James
The attendants did as they were bid; and Henry then inquired, "What of Sir Henry Dacre, and of that dark evening's work at which we were present?"
"Dacre goes with me, Sire," replied Richard of Woodville.
"Ha!" exclaimed the King; "then were we wrong in thinking he loved the other?"
"Not so," answered Woodville; "'tis a sad tale, Sire. He does love Isabel, I am sure--has long loved her, though struggling hard against such thoughts. But, as if to mar his whole happiness, that scoundrel, Roydon, whom you saw, when informed of poor Kate's death, wrote, though he did not come, raising doubts as to whether her fate had been accidental."
"Doubts!" cried the King. "Do you entertain no doubts, Richard?"
"Many, Sire," answered the young gentleman; "but I never mention doubts that I cannot justify by proof, and will not support with my arm. But he did more; he pointed suspicion at one he knew too well to be innocent. He called up some accidental circumstances affecting Dacre--not as charges, indeed, but as matters of inquiry; made the wound and left the venom, but shrunk from the result."
"And what did Dacre?" asked the King.
"Gave him the lie, Sire," replied Woodville; "called upon him to come boldly forward, make his accusation, and support it in the lists."
"He avoided that, I'll warrant," replied Henry; "I know him, Richard."
"He did so, Sire," answered the young gentleman; "he declared he had no accusation to bring--held Dacre to be good knight and true; but still kept his vague insinuations forward in view, as things that he mentions solely because it would be satisfactory to the knight himself to clear up whatever is obscure."
"And does the Lady Isabel give any credence, then, to these cowardly charges?" inquired the King.
"Oh! no, Sire," replied Woodville, warmly. "She has known Harry Dacre from her infancy; and those who have, are well aware that, though quick in temper, he is as kind as the May wind--as true and pure as light. But Dacre is miserable. He thinks, that, henceforth, the finger of suspicion will be pointed at him for ever; he sees imaginary doubts and dreads in every one's heart towards him; he feels the mere insinuation, as the first stain upon a high and noble name. It weighs upon him like a captive's chain; he cannot break it or get free--it binds his very heart and soul; and, casting all hope and happiness behind him, he is resolved to go and peril life itself in any rash enterprise that fortune may present."
"Poor man!" exclaimed Henry, "I can well understand his feelings: but God will bring all things to light. Yet, tell me, Richard of Woodville, do your own suspicions point in no particular direction?--have you no doubts of any one?"
"Perhaps I have, Sire," answered Woodville; "but I will beseech your Highness to grant me one of two things--either, to appoint a day and hour where, in fit lists and with arms at outrance, I may sustain my words to the death; or do not ask me to make a charge which I can support with no other proof than my right hand."
"I understand you, Richard," said the King, "and I will ask no farther. Your course is a just one; but I trust, and am sure, that heaven will not witness such deeds as have been done, without sending punishment. We both think of the same person, I know; and my eye is upon him. Tell me, however, one thing,--does not Sir Simeon of Roydon inherit the estates of this poor Lady Catherine?"
"He does, Sire, and is already in possession," replied Woodville.
"He is here at the court," rejoined the King, "and I shall show him favour for her sake."
Richard of Woodville gazed at the monarch in surprise, but a slight smile curled Henry's lip; and, although he gave no explanation of the words which he had spoken in a grave tone, his young companion was satisfied.
"I always love to get at the heart of a mystery," continued the King, seeing that Richard remained silent; "and I should much like to know, if you can tell me, what was the cause of that furious quarrel which took place between Sir Henry Dacre and this unhappy lady, just before he went? I fear I had some share in it."
"You were but the drop, Sire, that overflowed the cup," replied Woodville; "it had been near the brim for several days before; but what was said I know not. Remonstrance upon his part, and cutting sneers on hers, as usual, I suppose; but he has never told me."
Henry mused for a moment at this reply; and then, changing the subject, he inquired, "Is good Ned Dyram with you here in Westminster?"
"He is in the Hall below, Sire," answered Woodville; "and a most useful gift has he been to me already."
"A loan, Richard, a loan!" cried the King; "I shall claim him back one of these days, after he has served you in Burgundy. You will find he has faults as well as virtues; so have an eye to correct them. But even now, as the country folk say, I have a mind to borrow my own horse. I want his services for three days, if you will lend him to me--You are not yet ready to set out?"
"Not yet, Sire," replied Woodville; "but, in one week more, I hope to be on the sea."
"Well, then, send the man up to me, and he shall rejoin you in four days," answered Henry; "but let me see you tomorrow, my good friend, before you go home, for I would fain talk farther with you. It is seldom that a King can meet one with whom he can speak his thoughts plainly; and I find already a difference that makes me sad. Command and obedience, arguments of state and policy, flattering acquiescence in my opinion, whether right or wrong, praise, broad and coarse, or neat and half concealed,--of these I can have plenty, and to surfeit; but a friend, into whose bosom one can pour forth one's ideas without restraint, whether they be sad or gay, is a rare thing in a court. So, for the present, fare-you-well, Richard. You will stay here for the banquet in the Hall, of course; and let me see you to-morrow morning, towards the hour of eight."
Richard of Woodville, as he well might, felt deeply gratified at the confidence which the King's words implied, and he answered, "I will not fail, Sire, to attend you at that hour, with more gratitude for your good opinion than any other favour. At the banquet, I will try to find a place, and will send Ned Dyram to you. Will you receive him now?"
"Yes, at once," replied the King; "for, good faith! these lords and bishops who are waiting for me, will think me long. I will order you a place below; but, mark me, Richard--if you meet Simeon of Roydon, seek no quarrel with him; and lay my commands upon Sir Henry Dacre, that he do not, on any pretence, again call him to the lists, without my knowledge and consent. As to Ned Dyram, he shall rejoin you soon. There is no way in which he may not be useful to you; for there is scarce an earthly chance for which his ready wit is not prepared. I met him first, studying alchemy with a poor wretch who, in pursuit of science, had blown all his wealth up the chimney of his furnace, and could no longer keep this boy. I found him next in an armourer's shop, hammering at hard iron, and thence I took him. He has a thousand qualities, some bad, some good. I think him honest; but his tongue is somewhat too free; and that which the wild Prince might laugh at, might not chime with the dignity of the crown. He will learn better in your train; but at the present I have an errand for him--so send him to me quickly."
Richard of Woodville bowed and withdrew; and, finding his way down to the Hall, he called Ned Dyram,--who was in full activity, aiding the royal officers to set out the tables,--and told him to go directly to the King. The man laughed, and ran off to fulfil the command: and about three quarters of an hour elapsed before the monarch appeared in the hall, which by that time was nearly filled with guests, invited to the banquet. He was followed by the train of high nobles and churchmen, whom Woodville had seen waiting in a chamber above; and the numerous tables, which were as many as that vast building could contain, were soon crowded.
It would be dull to the reader, were I to give any account of a mere ordinary event, such as a royal feast of those days--were I to tell the number of oxen and sheep that were consumed--the capons, ducks, geese, swans, and peacocks, that appeared upon the board. Suffice it, that one of the royal servants placed Richard of Woodville according to his rank; that the banquet, with all its ceremonies, was somewhat long in passing, but that the young gentleman's comfort was not disturbed by the sight of Simeon of Roydon, who, if he were in the Hall, kept himself from Richard's eyes. The lower part of the