Read Online Ravenspur: Rise of the Tudors by Conn Iggulden - Free Book Online Page A

loved. It was a heartbreak his father had known, beheaded on a field close by his own castle of Sandal.
    It was rare for Richard to have hands clear of broken blisters or his body unbruised. When he was weak of will, as his brother was weak, when he wanted to gorge his starving frame or drink himself to oblivion, or simply allow all his bruises to heal to spare himself from pain, he would recite the words a Benedictine monk had taught him for such times: ‘
Non draco sit mihi dux. Vade retro Satana
.’ ‘The dragon is not my master. Get thee behind, Satan.’ The words had become a talisman and saying them brought him back to calm. Richard lived in pain and his flesh was in opposition tohis will. Yet he would prevail, because all flesh failed, whereas the will was a sea deep enough to drown.
    As high on the steps to the upper floor as he was, Richard was perhaps the first in the taproom to notice the king’s herald slipping through the tavern door as it swung closed. The man wore King Edward’s badge of a sun in flames, embroidered on a tabard across his chest. Such as he were required to carry no weapons nor any armour, beyond the authority of their masters. Richard noted the long dagger strapped to the man’s wide belt as well as the dusty chainmail that stretched from thigh to throat as he turned and took in the tavern. Not a trusting fellow then, he thought, his mouth turning up. Away from the cities, the law was a fickle thing.
    He felt the herald’s gaze flicker across him and then settle. The man took only a single step towards the stairs before one of King Edward’s guards was there to block his path.
    Richard gestured for the stranger to be let through, though the herald’s dagger was removed and left behind. His brother’s guards were careful men.
    The herald would no doubt have known Richard of Gloucester by sight, even without the white boar embroidered on the breast of his black shirt. Richard saw the man’s eyes pass over it as he tried to bow on a flight of steps without sending himself head-over-heels. Good balance, Richard noted. The herald would acquit himself well in a brawl.
    ‘My lord Gloucester, I bear urgent news for His Highness King Edward.’
    ‘Speak then, if you know me. I will pass the words on to my brother.’
    The fellow hesitated only a beat. London was arming for a war some two hundred miles to the south. He’d ridden every one of them without rest and had bruised places on hisbones he hadn’t felt for years. There was no room to stand on details.
    ‘My lord, Earl Warwick has landed and is gathering an army close by London.’ The herald’s gaze broke and he looked away as he went on, understanding the reaction it would bring. ‘The Duke of Clarence is said to be with him, my lord.’
    Richard’s eyes tightened as he leaned forward.
    ‘My brother George? Well, he was always a fool. Is the queen safe?’ he said. The man’s skin grew shiny with sweat and he opened his hands in apology.
    ‘There will be others following with such news, my lord. I was sent from London by His Majesty’s Chamberlain, Lord Hastings. I believe I am the first to come with the news.’
    Richard saw the herald was trembling, though whether it was from fear, or exhaustion or just coming into the warmth from the night, he did not know or care. He stood suddenly, almost sending the man tumbling down the stairs.
    ‘Wait down there while I talk to His Highness. He will have other questions.’
    Richard strode along the corridor and knocked at a door even as he opened it, uncaring what he would see after such news. He stopped even so on the threshold, his mouth falling slightly open. A blonde serving girl had been lying naked on her stomach, tapping away at a wall with the heel of her shoe. Richard’s entrance interrupted her gleeful cries and she curled up, pulling blankets around her with a shriek.
    King Edward the Fourth of England was lying supine on the bed, completely asleep and snoring softly.