(Big thank you to Angel More and SSLE for your lovely reviews. I was so honoured. They made me so happy. Thomas More (and Anne Boleyn) is the reasons I first fell in love with history-I cried when my teacher first told me about him, when we did the Tudors at primary school. I've been wanting to write something involving More for ages but found it hard to get it right. Hope everyone likes this chapter. Ps have made Henry a bit younger than what he should be and from the souces I've found Margaret's mother was called Olive, but changed it to Lucy as I just see her as being one in this story :))
'Harry,' said Thomas, as sharply as he could manage, 'have you been listening to a word I've said?'
'Of course,' answered the young prince, staring up at his tutor, 'after ten years of fighting, the Greeks decided to trick the Trojans into gaining entry to their city. Then they committed mass slaughter and put the women into slavery,'
'And the moral of the tale?' asked Thomas, sitting down next to his pupil, under the shade of a tree. He had hoped bringing their lessons outside would help Henry concentrate, but it had the opposite effect and Henry was daydreaming of knights and glory more than usual.
'Beware Greeks bearing gifts?' replied Henry, with a lazy smile, knowing Thomas could never be angry with him.
'Close enough,' sighed Thomas, pulling his hat over his head, as he tried to think were to go next with their lesson.
'Thomas,' said the young prince in a serious tone, 'do you think I'll make a good King?'
'Of course,' replied Thomas, taking the hat off his head and looking over at his young charge, who was picking at the blades of grass, 'if you remember everything that the I and Cardinal have taught you,'
'My father does not think so,' continued Henry, flicking at the broken blades of grass, 'he sees me as a poor replacement for Arthur,'
Thomas smiled at the young prince, who was in his care, despite Henry VII strong distrust of him. The King liked men of action, who did not question, who simply followed their King's instructions. Not like Thomas More, who questioned everyone and everything. He hoped he would teach the prince to be the same and to become a King, who would put his people's needs, before his own-unlike his father, but Thomas could not tell Henry that.
'Your father just misses Prince Arthur, Harry,' said Thomas, as he saw the image of Goodwife Giggs from the night before, play before his eyes, 'I don't think part of you ever get's over the pain of losing a child,'
Henry was silent for a moment, his mind working slowly. Despite the fact that Henry was obsessed by jousting, (which he was banned from doing), horse riding and dancing, he was extremely clever and could, when he wasn't daydreaming, put his mind to good work.
'Can we go for a walk, Thomas,' asked Henry, getting to his feet, 'I promise, I'll study hard this afternoon,'
Thomas nodded his head in agreement and as he got to his feet as well, he vowed to hold Henry to his promise.
The two of them walked through the gardens of Eltham Palace, which were all but deserted, except for a few servants, who would bow or curtsey before Henry, before continuing with their work. They walked in silence, as Henry was still thinking hard on Thomas words- he so wanted to be a good King and one that would make a difference to his people and to England.
'We are friends,' Henry asked, breaking himself away from his thoughts, 'are we not, Thomas?'
'Of course,'
'Then,' said Henry, stopping briefly, 'when I am King, I will make you proud of me. I swear,'
'I'm sure you will, Harry,' replied Thomas, confident that his pupil would one day be the greatest King in Christendom, 'I'm sure your will,'
They walked on for a bit longer, the sun shining down on the both of them.
'Tell me again, about the place where everyone is equal, Thomas,'
Thomas smiled as Henry mentioned his favourite subject. He was never sure, if Henry brought up the subject of Thomas' mythical community, which he often though on, because he enjoyed hearing about it or because he knew once Thomas started talking, he would forget about everything else.
'Its called Utopia,' said Thomas, deciding that Henry was genuinely interested, as he smiled with interest as his tutor spoke, 'and is an island, which contains fifty-four towns,'
'Why's it called Utopia?'
'Well,' answered Thomas, 'if you listened during our Latin and Greek lessons, you'll be able to tell me,'
'Oh,' said Henry, cursing himself under his breath, 'so how have they made everyone equal?'
'Everything is debated and decided by the people at all levels. They have no private property. People have what they need in line with their needs-no one had more or less than anyone else. No one starves...'
But as before, Thomas had once again, to quote his father, had his head in the clouds, so neither he nor Henry who was listening so intently to Thomas words, noticed the servant carrying a bundle of dirty dresses coming down the path towards them.
'Oh my, I'm so sorry,' cried Thomas, as he knocked into the woman, sending the dresses on top of the pile to the ground, causing Henry to laugh. He leant over and went to pick up of the finely made dress.
'You seem determined to knock me flying, Master More,'
Thomas jumped and dropped the dress, he had just picked up, as he saw Goodwife Giggs staring back at him. This time though, her face wore a bright smile and her blue eyes were sparkling in the sun.
'I...I did not see you there,' said Thomas, stunned to see her but happy that she now seemed to have found some peace in her heart.
'Clearly,' she smiled, leaning over to pick up one of the dresses, as Thomas did the same.
'Thank you for listening to me last night,' she continued, as her and Thomas reached for the same red dress, 'it was nice to have someone listen to my troubles,'
'I was more than happy to help,' answered Thomas, returning her smile. In the brightness of the midday sun, both still felt some of the uneasiness that had been between them when they had parted last night, but the memory of the brief moment just before, when their eyes had connected, was stronger in both of their minds.
'Thomas,' interrupted Henry, moving himself so that he was now stood between Thomas and Goodwife Giggs, 'who's your friend?'
'Oh my...,' exclaimed Goodwife Giggs, dropping all of the dresses she was carrying, as she fell into a curtsey, 'forgive me your majesty. I didn't see you standing there,'
Henry laughed as he saw the flustered look on the lady's face. She was very pretty, he thought, but not as pretty as poor Catalina, his brother's widow, who his father had banished to live in poverty in Durham House. Though, as Henry looked at his tutor's, it was clear who Thomas would choose. He watched the way they acted with each other-it was the way adults always acted when they had secrets that they did not want others to know. They would look briefly at each other with smiles, then turn away to look at the ground before meeting each other's eyes again.
'Your forgiven,' laughed Henry, as the lady straightened up, 'Thomas are you going to introduce me to your friend?'
'Your majesty...' started Thomas, but Goodwife Giggs answered Henry for him.
'Lucy, your majesty,' she smiled, but at Thomas, not the prince, 'my name's Lucy,'
'Prince Henry, this is Lucy Giggs. She is in the service of your Grandmother,' continued Thomas, meeting Lucy's smile, 'though I seem to be doing everything in my power to hinder her employment,'
'Don't worry. These dress are already dirty and on their way to the laundry,' said Lucy, picking up the dresses, as she spoke, 'besides, as you said so yourself, Master More, we have had no rain all summer, so they can't get muddy,'
'So,' said Henry, sitting down at his desk with a thump, as he did not want to be back inside the Palace, 'is she the girl, you're going to marry?'
'Homer's Odyssey,' answered Thomas, placing the book down on the desk, 'read the first two pages, then read it back to me in English,'
'Oh, but Greek is so boring,' sulked Henry, pushing the book away, 'and you did not answer my question,'
'A Humanist King knows all the ancient languages,' replied Thomas, sitting down at his desk, just opposite Henry's, 'and as a subject of a Humanist King, I am free to decline answering your question,'
'But my father is King,' smiled Henry, 'and he's no Humanist ...Besides, we're friends, Thomas,'
'Harry...' Thomas started, but he noticed a messenger in the doorway, 'come in,'
The messenger handed Thomas a slip of paper, which he read in silence as Henry looked on, eagerly wanting an answer to his question.
'I have to see Cardinal Wolsey,' said Thomas, getting to his feet and making his way to the door. As he turned his back, Henry silently cheered, hoping it would mean the end of lessons today and he could go riding, not realising that Thomas' knew exactly what he was thinking, 'remember Harry, the first two pages,'
'Thomas,' remarked Cardinal Wolsey, not looking up from his writing, 'if you are just going to sit there and saying nothing, then you might as well return to the monastery,'
'I'm sorry,' answered Thomas, realising he'd been staring out of the window of Eltham Palace, instead of listening to the Cardinal's worries about the King's plan to further increase taxes. He had been trying to think of away to get Prince Henry, interested in Greek, but had found that he was actually thinking about Lucy, as he saw her walk back through the garden, carrying another bundle of clothes 'you were saying?'
'I believe I was discussing the King's plan to increase taxes,' continued the Cardinal, still not looking up from his paper work, 'but I believe you were too busy letting your mind wander on to subjects that are of the female persuasion,'
'The King cannot increase taxes,' said Thomas, getting up from his seat by the window and moving over to the bookshelf and taking out the first book, his fingers touched, 'the people of this country are already so burdened with taxes, that an increase would see the majority starve,'
'First rule of politics, Thomas. Never ignore a question,'
'It was a statement,' replied Thomas, opening the book, 'not a question,'
'Well then, never ignore a statement either,'
Wolsey looked up from his papers for the first time and glanced at Thomas, who was now leaning against the wall, looking through the pages of the book. He, like most people who met Thomas, found they couldn't help but like him. Despite his seriousness, he also possessed a quick sense of humour that was helpful in difficult situations-even with Henry VII, a man not noted for his sense of humour. He was easy going and unlike the other men who walked around court with an air of arrogance, as though they were born to rule, Thomas would walk round the corridors of power in a casual manor. But most of all, what Wolsey admired the most about Thomas, and it was also the same aspect of Thomas' character, which caused Wolsey the most concern, was the fact that Thomas never did anything that went against his conscience.
'You must have heard, Thomas, that despite my cardinal robes, I am only too aware of the flaws in men, particularly when it comes to women,' said Wolsey, knowing that there no point in hiding his own weakness when it came to the fairer sex, 'I am not a saint, Thomas, though I feel sometimes you need reminding that neither are you. Now, tell me, was it the girl whose to be your wife, who your mind was thinking on or a certain Royal Seamstress,'
Thomas eyes flew up from the pages he was reading and stared at the Cardinal, who head was once again bent over his writing.
'How did you...'
'Second, rule of politics, make sure you know everything,' remarked Wolsey, signing the bottom of the paper, before looking up at Thomas, 'you really should be careful, leaving a woman's home at that time of night. People will get the wrong impression...She's a nice girl, Lucy Giggs. Too young to have suffered the misfortune she has...She came to see me once, asking for help, after it became clear that husband of hers was lying dead on a foreign field somewhere... Feisty too. Refused to leave here until she got what she wanted...Nothing like you docile, little fiancée I imagine...Amazing what some men find attractive in a woman,'
It was true, Lucy was nothing like Jane. Jane would be the wife, who simply did what she was told, while he could see Lucy as someone not afraid to speak her mind and answered back. Jane was simply to work out and understand, but there was more to Lucy than the image she presented to the world. Despite her instance to the contrary, he could see she was indeed very clever and given the chance, she could match him in debate.
'If you'll excuse me,' said Thomas, realising he shouldn't be thinking those thoughts, 'I should be getting back to the young Prince,'
'Of course, ' smiled the Cardinal, returning to his papers, 'but just a word of warning, Thomas. If you should find yourself Bucklersbury tonight, which I have a hunch you will, be careful. I'm not the only one with informants all over the city,'
He watched as Thomas looked at him with a raised eyebrow before leaving, with a brief nod of the head.
'And you will be seeing her tonight,' muttered Wolsey, as he signed another document, 'and you better heed my warning, Thomas, because Lord knows what your father will do if he finds you've gone soft on an common seamstress!'
