Author's Notes: Prompted Plot Bunny #46, posted by Cap Red. This is an AU Pre - Tudor's fic, where Henry becomes King as a child. The plot bunny allows whether or not Arthur is a younger brother or never existed. For reasons I can't explain I can't bring myself to leave Arthur Tudor out of it. Hope you enjoy, let me know if I should continue.
Noon, Friday, 17 June 1497, Deptford Bridge, Blackheath
Edmund de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk walked silently along the banks of the river Ravensbourne. All around him men were rushing to and fro, messengers sent from the King to his advisors in London informing them that the royal army had defeated the Cornish rebellion. Edmund stood grimly watched as men carried soldiers after soldiers of the dead. The worst however were the wounded, their cries and haunting moans sending shivers down the spines of the living. Edmund could barely remember a time when England was at peace with no fear of rebellion, battles and pretenders. His mind stretched back to the reign of his uncle King Edward IV, many called those the golden days and indeed mostly they were but underneath his uncle's cheerful exterior there was lingering doubt about his own throne. To an extent Edmund's mother's brother's had ruined themselves, the three brothers of York Edward, George and Richard had all betrayed the other, the traitor George was executed by Edward, overweight Edward died too young in his bed, and good uncle Richard killed Edward's boys.
Edmund looked out to where several groups of Cornishmen were being chained up on the King of England's commands. Henry Tudor had solved nothing, just over ten years on the throne and it was as shaky as ever. Edmund shook his head he had many grievances with King Henry, everyday building up more and more. Edmund breathed in through his nostrils and took in the smell of the countryside, the smell of the river but laced with the smell of blood of the dead and the wounded. Edmund looked at his own clothes and saw blood stain after blood stain, he wasn't even sure where his blood began and the blood of those he slay ended. Edmund turned and looked to where the dead bodies of Englishmen were being laid down in a huge pile. Tudor had been the cause of all of this, it was he who had levied huge amounts of tax on the Cornish, he had angered them, and they rose in rebellion. What was he following the Welshman for? Edmund wondered, he had a better claim to the throne than Tudor, hell his cook had a better claim to the throne than any Tudor.
Edmund had been fifteen when his uncle King Edward had died and his sons seemingly followed him to the grave, he was seventeen when his uncle King Richard was torn down in battle. He was nineteen when his brother John, Earl of Lincoln had raised battle against Tudor at Stoke, now here again was another battle where English blood had been split and no one was closer to understanding who had the best right on the throne of England. Tudor could sing about prophecies about the return of King Arthur all he liked, but the fact remained after twelve years he was as likely to lose his throne as the day he won. Today he was lucky, the leaders of this rebellion had been a lawyer and a blacksmith. The blacksmith had still yet to be caught but Tudor had sent guards to the sanctuary where the man was begging for his life.
Tudor was lucky that at the head of the army instead of a lawyer, a blacksmith and an idiotic nobleman Lord Audley that it hadn't been the man who claimed to be Prince Richard of York, Edmund's cousin, the second son of King Edward and the Queen of England's brother who obviously had a stronger claim to the throne than anything she could pass in her blood to her sons. What did Edmund think of him? From the start he had been unsure, Lambert Simnel had ruined the initial rush of relief at learning that his cousin the duke of York had survived. Perhaps he was simply what Tudor had said, a lad from Flanders by the name of Perkin Warbeck. Family loyalty clung to the fact that if cousin Richard was alive, then Uncle Richard hadn't killed him like everyone said he had. But what happened to cousin Edward? Who had killed him if Uncle Richard hadn't, and Edmund knew one thing for certain Tudor hadn't. Edmund had been privy to information to learn that Tudor was having sleepless nights that Perkin Warbeck was Prince Richard. Tudor had the Tower of London raided over and over again for any evidence where the Princes had gone.
Edmund thought about to the days of his Uncle Richard, did he say anything about it? He denied it certainly but all he said was that the boys were removed to a safer location, he had justified his claim to the throne by insisting that the married between King Edward and Queen Elizabeth Wydeville was invalid, Edward had been married to another at the time. King Edward had no legitimate children, so the throne went to Uncle Richard, however Uncle Richard causally side stepped the fact that his elder brother George of Clarence had a son the earl of Warwick. So Edmund had questioned to himself since his family's catastrophic end…. Did Uncle Richard kill them? Or did someone else? And they did that third party set him up? In another way was Richard right? And everyone from Sir William Hastings, John Morton, right down to Edmund's other uncle Sir Thomas St Ledger widower of his aunt Anne of York all horribly wrong? Edmund thought of his tall and handsome uncle, he was not as giving with his attention and as larger than life as King Edward, but he was certainly nicer than Uncle George.
All three brothers however had a ruthless streak in them, so Edmund with a heavy heart concluded that yes Richard had betrayed his family and had killed his nephews, Perkin Warbeck was an impostor, the next male heir of the house of York was the earl of Warwick, however since he couldn't tell the difference between fire and water, the real White Rose was in fact Edmund himself. And year after year he was being punished by Tudor because Tudor knew it to be the truth. Crippled by increasing debts, forced to fork out to his mother far more larger sums than he could afford and suffering in a loveless marriage with a Baron's daughter who couldn't give him a son, he continuously felt cheated. He should be wed to a much more important noblewoman with a larger dowry. To tap it all off Tudor had once again refused to allow Edmund to be the duke of Suffolk, and made sure that he would remain the earl of Suffolk. Edmund smiled darkly, he should be King of England, and yet here he was covered in mud and blood staring over at the impeccably dressed usurper with his new men who he turned to for advice.
Perkin Warbeck a boatman's son was getting more recognition than he was. It wasn't fair. Across the river he continued to watch Henry Tudor speaking with his advisors, one of them being the earl of Oxford a die hard Lancastrian who had barely ever shown a flicker of respect Edmund's way. Oxford had gotten it all, earl Marshal of England, Constable of the Tower of London, returned to his rights and liberties, Godfather to Henry, Prince of Wales, Edmund the Queen's most senior cousin, had gotten nothing. Resentment brewed deeply in his breast as he tried to look on the King with false cheer. They had won the battle but the war was far from over, there was still a threat in the north from the backstabbing Scots, Perkin was still sailing from Ireland threatening to take the throne. Edmund saw Oxford glance his way and nod to him, Edmund nodded back and moved to raise his hand in acknowledgement but winched at the pain of it. He pulled back his blood soaked sleeve and saw the deep gash that went from his elbow to the tips of his baby finger. A Cornishman had caught him off guard, the man had come to regret it as Edmund had slashed him across the face before plunging his sword into the man's beefy neck. Edmund flexed the muscle to test how badly it hurt, it stung some but he supposed it could have been a lot if to prove a point a dead soldier was dropped at his feet, the commoners sent to help fetch the dead bodies bowed and apologised at once.
'Me apologies me lord' A round fat one said and Edmund nodded grimly his eyes firmly on the dead carcass of a large man with grizzly hair. The men picked the Cornishman back up and made their way towards the mass grave that King Henry had intended on putting those who were not identified. Edmund had rushed out to help Henry but he knew not to expect any rewards, no lessening of the financial bonds the crafty man had strapped around him. A scuffle from the corner of his eye caught Edmund's attention and he turned to see James, Lord Audley wrestling with his guards.
Nothing could save Audley from the headsman and the man knew it. Edmund wondered what on God's green earth had the man attempted to do when he joined up with Michael Joseph the so called "An Gof" a blacksmith and Thomas Flamank a misguided lawyer. Audley was pale as a ghost, Tudor was not going to let him away with it. Edmund turned in the direction of Audley's vision and spotted Henry Tudor staring over coldly towards his once trusted courtier. Edmund had to hand it to the Welshman his cold stares could freeze a fire, which was odd since when he wanted to he had oddly deep blue eyes which he had heard Elizabeth gush about in the first few weeks of her marriage, then when she got to know her halfway handsome husband a little bit more she ceased to gush about her rescuer. Audley was hauled into a tent and Edmund moved to stand near the King to see why the man was taking so long to decide to return to London. As he came over he could still hear him, Dudley, Empson, Oxford and Reynold Bray discussing Perkin Warbeck.
'They believe the lad is in Ireland biding his time' Oxford muttered and Henry Tudor frowned and nodded, when he first came to England he had dark blonde hair, now in his fortieth year it had greyed considerably but wisps of blonde were still evident if one looked hard enough. The man was gaunt and looked like he never slept compared to the reasonably healthy face he once had. He sat on the throne that he knew wasn't his, and it gave him nightmares. Edmund stood before them and bowed, Tudor nodded to him.
'My lord Suffolk have you been injured?' Tudor asked forcing himself to sound sincerely concerned and Edmund waved his good hand.
'Nothing I shall not recover from your majesty' Edmund said with a smile and the King nodded. Edmund jerked his head towards the tent where Audley was kept.
'Has he given a reason for his treason yet?' He asked and Henry Tudor frowned, he was a tall thin man but reasonably built. He was not overly handsome but could not ever be described as being ugly, but he was aged beyond his years. Indeed sometimes he could pass off as being his mother's twin.
'It has something to do with the foreign lad' Henry said in disdain and Edmund nodded pretending to be sympathetic, Henry had never liked him and certainly he would never trust him.
'With your permission your majesty may I speak with him for a moment, I knew Audley well when the tyrant King Richard was on the throne' Edmund said and Henry paused before answering, Bray and Oxford muttered to him about how he might get some answers from Audley, reluctantly the King nodded.
'Yes perhaps you could get some answers from him my lord Suffolk, he is obviously reluctant to indulge in anything with my advisors here' Henry said holding his hands out to show Bray, Dudley and Empson, all lawyers and not a speck of aristocratic blood between them. Edmund smiled and bowed, he excused himself and went towards Audley's tent. The guards having been assured that he had the King's permission and reminding them who he was, allowed him inside. Audley was on the ground beaten and bruised, blood dribbling down his chin, he was tied up to the pole that held the tent upright, if he dared to break from there, he pulled the tent down and raised the alarm. They were of the same age, of the same build, and of the same old reign of King Edward. Edmund supposed at one point they might have been considered even friends.
'What were you thinking?' Edmund muttered at the doomed man, Audley looked at him blood pouring into his eyes from a nasty gash above his eye. Edmund in an act of mercy took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from the man's eyes. Audley's voice deprived of water after a fierce battle sounded hoarse.
'For King Edward's boy!' Audley croaked and Edmund could only imagine that the man was talking about Perkin Warbeck, rather than outright denying Perkin was his cousin Edmund pressed him further.
'What makes you so sure it's him?' Edmund asked, he was rather curious to know what made men throw in their lot with an unknown pretender. He was amused when Audley thrust his face out and spoke passionately in defence of the Flemish lad posing as a Prince.
'He has the same scar that my lord of York had had' Audley insisted Edmund nodded but silently believed that scars could be duplicated whereas memories couldn't. Edmund turned to the flap of the tent to make sure no one was around.
'When does he land in England?' Edmund asked in interest lowering his voice, he could not have the King overhearing him, Audley looked at him delightfully and rather trustingly.
'He lands soon, somewhere on the Cornish coast, he'll either aim to take an important town or he'll march on towards London' Audley said and Edmund feigning interest.
'And your sure he's my uncle's boy?' He asked firmly and Audley nodded looking as if all his dreams were coming through.
'Edward's boy will return and restore England to its former glory, the usurper will be gone' Audley said and Edmund shook his head, all of England knew that Henry Tudor had an extraordinary amount of luck when it came to battles, and this one cemented that opinion. Edmund remembered back in 1485 at Tudor's first battle when he witnessed his uncle's dead naked carcass sprawled out over a mule for all of England to see. The rage he had felt as a seventeen year old young man never truly died, Richard for a time had been a role model, Richard had taken an interest in his sister's children whereas good King Edward barely took an interest in his own children far to busy amusing himself. Audley himself had at the time transferred his loyalty from King Edward to his daughter's husband until he became disillusioned like many. Edmund could barely believe the lies that came out of his mouth next.
'Tudor knows that Richard of York will land along the coast, he has stations of men waiting for him, since he is an adult King with two male heirs many will not side with my lord York' Edmund said but Audley shook his head.
'My lord Richard has a son as well, named for his father' Audley said and Edmund nodded intrigued that Audley was that well linked with Perkin Warbeck. It was disturbing to know that Warbeck had a son and heir however, murdering children was a risky business as Uncle Richard had learned.
'How old?' Edmund asked
'A babe, but he will grow tall and strong like his father and grandfather' He said and Edmund nodded but really hoped the boy wouldn't.
'If the King had died here today, nothing would have stopped my lords Henry and Arthur from disappearing, but alas you and your troops have failed, the Tudor King trots around the place with his head held high' Edmund said and Audley visibly darkened. Edmund timed his next words carefully and slowly he spoke.
'Unless we do something about it?' He said and Audley frowned, Edmund looked to the tent flap again and came closer to Audley.
'You are disgraced as it is, only killing the king will save you now, the King has no brothers, nor does he have any royal uncles with an ounce of power, the people will look to someone else to be a protector to the young King Henry and his brother Prince Arthur, they will look to the Queen's family, I am the eldest member of her family, I hold an earldom which should be a duchy, I am Richard of York's cousin, when he lands I have the two boys in my power, do you see where I am going with this?' Edmund asked aware that Audley seemed uncomfortable.
'The way King Richard had gone?' Audley asked and Edmund almost struck the man but kept his face surprisingly calm, Audley continued his conscience taking over.
'And what will happen to King Edward's grandsons?' He asked cautiously and Edmund could see it would be harder to get this man on board than he thought, anyone with Edward's blood deserved loyalty in Audley's mind.
'There are two….the elder one Henry will be given what is rightfully his, his grandmother is a rich widow, his father has an earldom which is rightfully his, he will inherit all of that, as far as I know Jasper, Duke of Bedford had given his lands and estates to the young brother Arthur, they will be provided for' Edmund said and Audley visibly calmed yet again. Edmund inwardly smiled and reminded himself if a blacksmith and a lawyer got him on their side, how could Edmund not.
'And the earl of Warwick in the tower?' Audley said and Edmund realised the man was negotiating, Edmund nodded thinking of how the only way poor cousin Edward of Warwick would ever see the light of day was heading towards the headsman, he was in everyone's way no matter what side they were on, Perkin wouldn't want him around, Tudor didn't want him around and Edmund certainly didn't want to deal with the threat of him hanging over him.
'He will be restored to the duchy of Clarence' Edmund lied and Audley nodded his eyes flickering about the tent in thought.
'My son and heir…'
'He will be restored to full honours, as soon as I can' He said and Audley nodded he glanced to Edmund.
'You have an heiress, marry my son to your daughter and we have a deal, death is the path that I am on, for Richard of York however I can do him a great service, you will let him know won't you' Audley said concerned and Edmund rested his hand on Audley's shoulder pretending to be affectionate whilst thinking there was not a chance he was marrying his infant daughter Elizabeth to Audley's son.
'It would be an honour and a privilege to marry my daughter to you son, and my dear cousin shall know all that you have sacrificed in his honour' He said and Audley the great fool nodded, he tugged at the shackles that held him together.
'How shall I do it?' He asked and Edmund smiled, quickly glancing to the flap of the tent he bent over and whispered in Audley's ear.