Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story, your input means a lot, so thanks! The usual disclaimers apply here. I own none of the characters, events, and certainly not the TV Show.

Thanks for reading, and your reviews/comments would be most welcome.

Chapter Twenty One: An Honest Woman.

The morning after the arrest of Northumberland, Queen Anne, with Henry and the Prince at her side, stepped outside. She took a deep breath of coastal sea air, and admired the rugged coastlines. The lush green pastures rolled off into the distance, under the opalescent skies. She, and the whole army were in buoyant mood. Today, their homeward journey would begin.

To make things better, Northumberland's capture had proved to be the first of two strokes of good luck for Anne and Henry. By the time they were ready to leave Dover with the army, the ships carrying Charles Brandon, and Thomas Howard had docked. They had delayed their departure so that the armies of the two Dukes could team up with the official Royal Army. Together, they amounted to thousands. The only problem was, and both Henry and Anne were painfully aware of it, they were all concentrated in the wrong part of England.

"We still need to make haste back to London," said Anne as she and Henry were assisted with mounted their horses.

Anne had been gifted a proper war horse for the journey back to London. The creature was huge, but fast, and almost tireless. It's strength herculean. Henry was mounted already, but fidgeting with his horse's bridle.

"If we leave the Prince with the Countess of Devon and some men, they can follow us home at a slower pace," Henry suggested. "That way, we can ride through the night. We'll be back in London by tomorrow afternoon."

"What about him?" she nodded to a tumbrel in which Northumberland was manacled and chained up like a beast being taken to the markets for slaughter. He wasn't given so much as a blanket to hide himself under. His procession home would be a parade through the streets, for the public to point and stare at. An exhibition of treason.

"I'm in half a mind to drag him back to London on a hurdle strapped to the arse of this horse," Henry laughed. "Failing that, I don't care, so long as he is alive when he gets there. I want to watch this one die myself."

"Fair enough!" retorted Anne. "I don't mind if I join you on Tower Green."

"The bastard tried to poison me, you know!"

The King and Queen lapsed into banter as they waited for the two Dukes to join them. Together, they would ride at the head of their vast army, all the way to London. Anne dismounted her war horse to kiss Prince Arthur goodbye. He'd kicked up a storm at being left to trail behind the main army, and only a warning glance from Henry had brought him back into line.

"Arthur," said Henry, in that warning tone that drove Anne mad with a wicked lust, but scared the wits out of the children. "Obey your lady mother, or explain the reasons for disobedience to me."

"Aww Henry, you never talk to me like that any more," said Anne, winking at Henry as she got back in the saddle.

He shot her a look of feigned sternness. "Just wait till I get you home, madam!"

Anne dissolved into helpless laughter. The sun was shining, a marked improvement over the last few months, the enemy was almost defeated, and she finally felt like she had something to laugh about. A few minutes later, they were joined by the dukes, and they were ready for the off. The standards were raised high. The army amassed. The sound of the horns rent the air, and as one giant monster, the army took off at a gallop. The air filled with the thunderous beating of a thousand hooves. They were not stopping until they reached London.

Mary soaked her aching limbs in a hot bath prepared for her by Susan Clarencieux and Mary Lascelles. Some camomile had been added to help her relax, and drain the tension from her knotted muscles. After days on the roads, in captivity, and on the roads again, easing herself into the piping hot water felt like entering the gates of heaven. She inhaled the aromatic steam with relish, she closed her eyes and drifted off into her own world for a few luxurious minutes.

"Susan," said Mary, opening one eye and fixing it on Susan. "Pass me some of my soap. I deserve a treat."

"Of course, Your Grace."

As she unlocked a small chest containing Mary's expensive toiletries, Susan instructed Mary Lascelles to leave the room to attend the bed chamber, where their mistress would rest after her bath. But in truth, Susan needed to speak with Lady Mary alone.

"You don't know if Frances is caught, yet?" she asked, once they were alone again.

"No, and that's why Edmund is so worried," Mary explained. "We have heard nothing from Louis and Lady Katherine-"

"She's a wanton wench," observed Susan disapprovingly. "That man was all over you when he first arrived here."

She had taken to referring to Louis as "that man" since learning of his scandalous affair with Katherine. But Mary, who sat up to let Susan scrub her down properly, was more philosophical.

"No, not really," she replied. "He was only doing what he was ordered to do. At least what he has with Katherine is real. Not that I wasn't annoyed when I first found out."

"The Howard's will be thrilled. One of their own making connections with European Royalty. Next they'll be seeking world domination with their enormous brood," Susan laughed.

"Somehow, I doubt Louis' father will be quite so pleased," said Mary, drawing a finger across her throat in an intimation of beheading. Susan sniggered, almost dropping the precious soap.

"Let's just hope that Brandon and her infernal husband do not get to him first."

"Oh, I don't know. You know what these ancient European patriarchs are like. It might be a kindness if the Brandon's get to him first!"

Edmund hastily sponged himself down and changed into fresh clothes. Breeches, clean shirt and a warmer surcoat, before running up to the Castle watch tower. He couldn't let himself rest until he knew that Frances Brandon and Henry Grey were safely captured and removed from society. With both the King and Queen out of the city, and the Council with them, London was vulnerable to any attack, especially ones from within.

The winter light was still poor, meaning visibility was bad, even in the watch towers. But what little he could see was unhindered by any other buildings. The vantage point was a good one. But even as he paced the rotunda, he wondered what on earth he would do even if there was a sudden assault on the capital. There were a handful of soldiers left to guard the Tower, but the Tower had been emptied of cannon and guns first for the King's campaign in France, and then for the invasion. There was little left over to defend the capital with, even if he did have the men.

At sundown, however, the news finally came. A company of men had marched through the gates of London. Scouts were sent out to identify them, and when they returned after the fall of darkness, the news could well have been come from the angels. Louis was back, and with his army in tow. Edmund rode out to greet them immediately.

The citizens of London had crowded around the returning soldiers before they could even make it onto the Cheapside. The constant comings and goings of vast numbers of troops and men-at-arms was disrupting their trade, and impeding their suppliers and couriers. They were losing money, and that meant war on anyone in an official looking uniform.

"Please, you must let us through. We're on the Queen's business," pleaded Katherine as she tried to lead her horse through the throng. But hundreds of grubby hands gripped the bridles of their horses, and blocked their path.

"The Boleyn whore!"

Someone at the back of the crowd bellowed, causing peals of laughter from the rest of surly mob. Beneath the laughter, however, the mood was tense, and the people's tempter at breaking point. But Louis urged Katherine on with an encouraging nod. Anger can be harnessed into any direction, given the right encouragement.

"Oh, so Her Majesty is back to being a whore now, is she?" Katherine snapped, looking them all in the eye. "You weren't calling her that when she was defending your right to free trade, and the King was placing blockades on cheap foreign imports!"

Some had the decency to look a little abashed, but the heckler had scored some cheap points all the same. But Katherine was not to be deterred. She drew on her Howard stubborn streak, her family recklessness, and obstinacy to get their own way, and ploughed on.

"Look, you can obstruct our path all you like," she shouted, trying to make herself heard above the din. "But soon, there may well be another army, and an enemy army at that, arriving at our City's gates any moment. Then you'll really have something to complain about. So why not join us?"

"And exactly who is supposed to be invading us now?" asked a beefy armed woman, hands on hips and disbelief in her eyes. "A few days ago it was the French, now it's someone else. You're making this up!"

The cheers and jeers were suddenly cut off as another voice joined the babble of confusion. A another man, on horseback, was just managing to cut through the crowds. Louis and Katherine both felt their spirits lift when they recognised the new comer as Edmund.

"She is right!" Edmund called out to them as he finally made it to Katherine's side. "We're all in danger, now. Let these men through, and we will do what we can to protect your homes and businesses. Where are the City Liverymen?"

"Why?" a man at his side asked.

Edmund wanted to throttle him, but instead explained it again. "Because we're coming under attack, you dolt!"

"From who?" the man persisted.

"From the French, idiot!" the beefy armed woman answered.

"No!" Louis finally decided to try his luck in talking sense to the people. "From the Marquis of Dorset and his wife. They have an army, and they want to kill the Lady Mary, and take the throne for themselves!"

"He's right," Edmund confirmed. "Although the French may be coming, too." He added uncertainly. Even he was losing track of the machinations of English politics.

The faces all around them were now creased in confusion. Memories were short in this city, and threats were commonplace. They all had trouble keeping up with who was an enemy of who, at any one given moment. It blurred into a cloud of intrigue that left them largely unaffected. Either way, something pricked at their senses, and they began to back off from the company of soldiers that surrounded Louis and Katherine.

"We'll defend our City from all comers," a man said, making it plain he spoke for the whole mob. "If what you say is right, you can rely on us. But if this is a ploy from those at the Palace, there'll be hell to pay! The King will have to look elsewhere for his taxes if this is some scaremongering trick!"

Once the man spoke, the crowds dispersed with grumbles of agreement for what their self-appointed spokesman had said. But the air was still thick with hostility. On top of the armies riding roughshod through their markets, the army was being led by two foreigners. Something the people of London distrusted even more. Katherine's shoulders sagged with relief once her path was clear, and she able to rejoin Louis and Edmund. The rest of the men advanced towards the Tower, leaving the three of them to plan their next move.

"What happened to Frances and Grey?" Edmund asked as they passed freely through the streets of London. "We were attacked by them after we left the camp, but Mary and I fought them off. Haven't seen them since".

"They were regrouping their troops in Northamptonshire as we left," Louis replied. "We couldn't attack them there, not enough men."

"We had fatalities in the route by the riverside," Katherine chipped in. "Eight men left dead by Brandon's retainers."

"Any enemy losses?" Edmund asked.

"There were some, but I didn't count them," Louis explained. "But they're going to attack this city any moment now. We all need to be on our guard."

"Perhaps they will come at dawn, when we're most likely to be off guard?" Katherine asked. "That's what I would do."

"I think she's probably right, Ed," Louis agreed. "We need to get into position over night. Where is the Queen?"

Edmund looked back over his shoulder, and watched as the ordinary citizens of London began to mobilise. He looked at the pikes, the pitchforks, and the everyday implements that were being put to more dangerous use. They may as well have been riding into battle armed with toothpicks. He turned his doleful gaze back to Louis.

"The Queen is fighting in the South," he said. "Apart from that rabble, we're as good as defenceless."

The night was a long one in which news filtered quickly down a chain of command before reaching Louis, Edmund, Katherine and Mary. The four of them were ensconced in Windsor, waiting for the dawn to come, or news of an enemy sighting. They drank warmed wine to keep their spirits up, and relieved the thick tension with stiff jokes, and satire. Soon, however, the subject of the impending battle reared it's head.

"We have almost no weapons, and few trained men," Lady Mary said as she looked out of the window. Beacons burned in the distance, but she could not really see anything. "There is no sign of the King or Queen. They could be dead, for all we know. Northumberland could be riding through the South, raising an even bigger army. What do you think our chances are?"

"If Northumberland has invaded, I wouldn't like to speculate," Louis reasoned. "But if he had, I think we'd know by now. But just in case, there is something I want to do before I die."

"Which is?" asked Edmund, who was sat on the floor by the dying fire. He redirected his gaze from the flames, up to Louis who was standing over him, now.

"I want to make a woman honest," he replied.

"What?"

"What I mean is, and the final decision is entirely Katherine's, is that I would like to die a happily married man," explained Louis.

Katherine had been sitting beside Lady Mary, and reading verse to one another. She set down the poetry book that was in her hands, and stood up to face Louis. Her fair complexion suddenly reddened.

"Are you being serious?" she asked.

He nodded, and crossed the room. He laced his fingers through hers. Two bright smiles lit their faces as they gazed deeply into each other's eyes.

"Marry me," he whispered. "Marry me now."

The Chaplain was less than pleased to be dragged from his bed at three in the morning. But, at Lady Mary's command, he did it. Lady Mary Lascelles, and Lady Susan Clarencieux were summoned from their chambers, and even a few of the Palace servants were rustled up to make up numbers in the tiny chapel. The nice beeswax candles were lit, and the clouds of incense perfumed the air. But out of necessity, the ceremony was a short one. The Chaplain, a friend of Mary's by the name of Bilney, got straight on to the vows.

"Do you, Louis, take this woman, Katherine, to be your lawful wedded wife?"

"I do."

"Do you promise, before God, to be faithful to her, forsaking all others, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

The ceremony had a romance of it's own. The bride and groom were wearing the same clothes they had been wearing for a week. Half of the guests were strangers to them both. They didn't even have their own rings (but one had been borrowed from Lady Mary, and another from Edmund).For all they knew they could be dead by tomorrow. But the candlelit service, the brief nuptial mass, and the incense gave the ceremony a warmth of it's own. In the glowing light, the tears of happiness still glittered like gilt as they slid down Lady Katherine's cheeks.

As Katherine took her vows, Mary looked at the man standing beside her, and found that he was looking back at her. Edmund smiled, and Mary took his hand in hers. The words 'I love you' were on her lips. But for now, as the ceremony concluded, they had to stay there.

"I declare you man and wife, and what God has put together, no man may tear asunder."

The dawn broke slowly over London. A thin pearl of light that grew and spread, expanding outwards over the city, to reveal the land from beneath the shroud of night. The newly weds, Mary and Edmund all took to the streets to watch out for the enemy, but were barely beyond Windsor when the first of a long line of messengers came sprinting up to them.

"They're here," he puffed, clutching at a stitch in his side. "They came during the night."

"Do you know how many?" Louis asked, and stepped closer to the man.

"Hundreds. Only in the hundreds, but more than we think the city can handle."

"Is the river blockaded?" Edmund asked. "We must get the river blockaded if it isn't already."

"It's too late, Sir. They have already come up the river, and they're taking up position within the City itself."

There was a moment of tense silence as they weighed up their options. But the situation was worse than they could possibly have expected. Mary, however, suddenly lost her temper.

"Why on earth was the river not blockaded?" she stormed at the hapless messenger. "It should have been the first step to securing the city!"

"Look, it's no good fighting," Katherine interjected. She turned to the man. "Is there any sign of either Frances Brandon, or Henry Grey? Are they in the City?"

"We don't know, madam."

"Blockade the river now, so whoever is here is trapped, and so that no more can get in that way," Louis instructed. "Keep an eye out for the Royal Army; they could show up at any moment, and needless to say, do let them in!"

"Go!" Mary commanded. "See that these orders are carried out now!"

The man bowed low to Mary, and turned to run back the way he came, towards the city centre. Once he was out of sight, the four of them huddled around in a circle. Altogether, they began babbling out ideas at once.

"I say we comb the streets and hunt then down..."

"Stay and defend the Palace.."

"To the Tower, I say.."

"One at a time, please!"

They all fell silent, and each looked at the other. Then, Louis decided to go first.

"Ladies, you go back to the Palace, and keep that Portcullis raised. Admit no one unless you know for sure who they are. That Palace must be protected at all costs."

"And what will you do?" Mary asked, looking desperately at Edmund.

"I think Louis and I should take to the streets with the men we have, and try to smoke out the enemy that have infiltrated the City walls," he replied.

"And I agree with him," Louis concurred. "There will be running street battles this way, but it would avoid a full on fielded battle."

"Is that easier?" asked Katherine, her eyes wide and fearful now.

In a battle like this, the enemy could jump out at any moment, and catch them off guard. It was perilous, and unpredictable. But Louis wasn't about to tell Katherine that.

"It'll be fine!" he said, a little over brightly.

"Then Lady Katherine and I will do as you ask," said Lady Mary. She had recovered from the shock of the invasion, and regained her composure. She held herself straight, and looked them all in the eye. "With God as my witness; this city will not fall on my watch."

Edmund's admiration for Mary shot up as he looked at her, and saw the pride and dignity with which she held herself at that moment. He had not seen it before, when she was just out of captivity. But now he could see why the nobility of Europe spoke so highly of her. He could see that it wasn't just out of sympathy for what had happened to her mother.

"That's agreed, then," Louis stated. He seemed happier now that they had a solid plan of action.

The girls nodded. Katherine and Louis side stepped away to say a private goodbye, leaving Mary and Edmund standing there, facing one another. Mary dropped her gaze to her feet.

"Well," she said, trying for all she was worth to act naturally. "I guess we will see each other when this is all over, one way or another."

"Make that a promise," he replied. "And it will give me something worth fighting for."

Mary laughed, and looked back up at him, the smile froze on her lips as she looked into his eyes. She knew it was time to leave. She tried to walk away. But as she soon as she took one step, she whirled around and rushed to throw her arms around his neck. This sudden rush of affection took him by surprise; it took a moment for him to realise what had happened. Carefully, he placed his arms around her back.

"Take care, Edmund," she pleaded. She lifted her head to look him in the eye again. "Come home safe."

Edmund said nothing, he was too preoccupied with what he was about to do. He closed his eyes, and kissed her lips. Mary gasped, she shivered in his arms, but the tremor was gone in seconds. She melted into his embrace, and returned his kiss. Soft at first, but the kiss drew out for far longer than any chaste, platonic kiss. When they drew apart, he saw thin, glittering, tear tracks on her pale cheeks.