We couldn’t wait to get out of the Great Hall and back to my chamber so that we could discuss it all. As we hurried away through the crowds, a young girl stepped out in front of us. She’d been hidden away amongst the shadows near the door, but she stepped into the light and smiled.
It was Anne Neville and, even though she was the Earl of Warwick’s daughter, she was kind, generous and our friend. I seized her hand and dragged her along with us. “Where’s your chaperone?” I asked, knowing that all young ladies always had an older attendant to make sure nothing happened to them.
“She thinks I’m in my chambers practising my embroidery.”
“So why aren’t you?” Francis asked.
“Boring!”
“It might be boring, but it’s what young aristocratic ladies are expected to do,” he answered as we hurried along the winding corridors of the castle and out into the courtyard.
“Perhaps so, but it’s still boring, so when I heard a messenger had arrived I thought I’d sneak in to hear what he had to say and to find out what you and Richard were doing.”
“That’s Prince Richard to you, Mistress Anne Neville,” said Francis. “And I’m Baron Lovell, in fact I’m the eighth Baron Lovell.”
By this time we’d crossed the courtyard and were climbing the spiral staircase in the keep that led to my chamber, but Anne, who was as clever as a family of foxes, managed to curtsy in an exaggerated manner.
“Please forgive me, my Lords,” she said sarcastically. “How could I not have noticed how wonderful and superior you both are? Will you ever forgive me?”
I grabbed her hand again. “Come on, you two can finish bickering later.”
When we reached my chambers, there was a soldier guarding my door as usual. The Earl of Warwick said this was because of my status as the King’s brother, but it always made me feel like a hostage. I suppose I was being silly, the guard never stopped me coming and going, but I also knew that one word from Warwick could turn my guard into my jailer.
We burst into my rooms and dragged chairs up to the fire that burned brightly in the grate. The Earl was proud of the fact that Middleham Castle had so many chambers with their own fireplaces, but today we weren’t interested in the wonders of modern building.
“So what did the messenger say?” Anne asked eagerly.
“You mean you don’t know?” I was surprised. “But I thought you were at the back of the hall.”
“I was, but with so many people crammed into the place and muffling the voices, I couldn’t hear details. All I know is that the Lancastrians are somewhere nearby.”
“They’re in Northumbria, perhaps a two-day march away,” said Francis. “They won’t attack here, Middleham’s too strong. But there’s talk of them advancing on Hexham.”
“Hexham? But that already has a strong force of soldiers in case the Scots invade!” said Anne, who never spoke like a girl and had always understood war and politics as well as any boy. She was actually only eight years old but spoke, thought and acted like someone much older. “They’d need a massive army to take the place. Do we know their numbers?”
“Between five and eight thousand,” I said.
She snorted just like Warwick, her father. “Then they won’t be taking Hexham.”
“No,” I agreed, “But they are in our territory and their numbers are great enough to be dangerous. That’s why an army’s being sent to intercept them.”
“And me and Richard are going to be part of it!” Francis suddenly blurted.
Anne’s hands flew to her mouth and her face went crimson. She obviously hadn’t heard that bit of news either. “You and Richard are going to be…!” She turned to me. “Is this true?”
I nodded. “Yes. Your father’s sending us with a small force of cavalry to offer support.”
She stood and paced between her chair and the window, then she stopped and laughed. “Your first blooding! Oh, I wish I was going with you! You must remember everything and tell me all about it! Write it down if you have to! I want to know every detail; what it feels like, what it sounds like, what it smells like even! Oh I wish, I wish, I wish I was going with you!”
Well you can’t,” said Francis leaning back in his chair and stretching his feet out to the fireplace. “You’re a girl, and girls don’t fight.”
Anne frowned at him fiercely and I suddenly felt sorry for her. Daughters of powerful lords like Warwick had no real choice in their lives. When they were young they were taught how to read and after that they learnt to embroider, spin and weave, and perhaps to sing and play prettily on a musical instrument. Then, when they were old enough, they’d be married to some old man to make an alliance between her own family and some other powerful group of lords.
“If girls did fight I’m sure you’d be one of the fiercest,” I said, wanting to give her something. “And anyway, Francis and I won’t be fighting either. We’re being sent to watch, that’s all.”
Francis laughed, “Which is still more than a girl’s allowed to do.” but Anne ignored him and took my hand for a moment and squeezed it before letting it drop.
“So when do you set out?” she asked, her eyes shining.
“Tomorrow morning at first light.” I said.
“I’ll be there to see you go,” she said determinedly.
“Good, I’d like that.” I answered.