"For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"
(Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)
Queen Katherine of Aragon as she still called herself, for she refused to consider anything else, stared listlessly at the plain cold walls of the Moor. This was no place for a queen, no place for the daughter of Isabella and Francis, but yet here she was. Henry had offered her lavish comfort and servants for her co-operation, but she hadn't been scared of poverty, no matter what he had said and suggested. Christ her lord had not entered heaven on a feather mattress and neither would she.
But it was a far cry from what she was used to. Her maids were minimal and uneducated, not like the noble girls she had as her ladies in waiting at Whitehall. Her rooms were bare, the castle was cold, and her food was basic. Henry had reduced her to the basic standards of living. But she thanked God for what she did have, for she knew that she had more than most.
Her days were passed in lonely silence, except for the few visits she had received from Sir Thomas one of the few friends she still had left. She prayed to God for answers, and she prayed for Henry to realise the folly of his ways, and the destruction he was causing on his own country by marrying that harlot who now called herself Queen.
Katherine tried not to think of it, however her mind was filled with images of the young beauty sitting on her throne, wearing her jewels, and commanding her people. The Boleyn girl was barely of noble blood, beautiful yes, intelligent certainly, but a Queen? She had rose too high, if only she had given in to Henry's advances, and become his mistress. Katherine would have looked the other way as she had done countless times before, and in a few months he would have tired of her, like all the others. Instead, coached by her despicable Father, and Norfolk she had resisted and enticed him, and driven him mad in want for her.
Her only hope had been that eventually, when that whore did give herself to him, he would see her for the harlot that she was. But instead he had married her, cast his true and loving wife away, and now that witch had birthed a son. The thought sent a burst of agony through her. How could God be so unjust and grant that witch that Katherine had always wanted. A healthy prince, the image of his father and heir to the throne. Instead Katherine had born a host of dead children, time after time after time. The thought of them all buried at Windsor in their tiny graves, taken to God too soon made her ache inside.
But she had given birth to Mary, and remarkably she had survived. She was weak and frail but she had persevered and lived. Katherine had seen it as a sign of God, that her little girl, her Princess was destined to rule. Why else would he have taken all of her boys away from her. England was destined to be ruled by a woman, just like her mother Isabella of Castile had ruled Spain.
Henry had seemed content too. He had loved Mary, and she knew that deep down he still did. She was beautiful and intelligent, and had the makings of a great Queen. But he had drew further and further away from her. He had always had mistresses, but he had always been discreet before, and had favoured his daughter and Katherine more than his little sluts. But then he began spending more and more time away from her. Their marriage fell to pieces and the love he had once had for her had faltered.
When Lady Blount had birthed him a healthy son, a bastard by all accounts Katherine had been upset, but had not considered little Henry Fitzroy to be a threat. But Henry had doted on the boy and had elevated him above Mary his legitimate daughter, and their relationship fell even more. He had seen the birth of his son as proof that God would not grant him a male child off her, that their marriage was a sin, and that the only way to fix the problem was to be rid of her.
She knew she had deceived him, by claiming virginity when she had married Arthur, but she had considered their marriage valid, the pope had given them a dispensation after all. She had barely time to be married to Arthur, and had barely known him, though she had loved him completely. They had only consummated their marriage that one time, and she had kept it to herself, hoping that it would not be an issue. She still believed that she was the rightful Queen of England. Bishop Fisher had said so, Thomas More has said so, the Pope had said so. Everyone had been on her side. But that woman had destroyed everything, she had somehow won the favour of the people of England and turned them against her. She introduced Lutheranism to Henry and shown him the ultimate power he could receive by listening to the heretics that proclaimed themselves to be of the true religion.
England had fallen, along with her marriage and now she was left in the Moor to live out the rest of her days. Her only hope left was that her daughter would one day be Queen. Anne could brith as many boys as she wanted and none of them could compete with Mary, of that she was sure. Her daughter was perfect, and had been chosen by God to right the wrongs that had been committed against England and herself.
A knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts and she turned from the fire and straightened her nightgown wrapping her shawl tightly around her. She was not well enough to leave her bedchamber, and was in no condition to wear the tight constricting apparel that was her wardrobe.
Her chamberlain entered and made a shallow bow, employed by Henry, he would never show her the proper respect she deserved.
'Madam, His grace George Boleyn is here to see you.'
Katherine stared at her chamberlain in shock and repulsion. What on earth could that harlots brother be here for? Had he come to gloat about the birth of his nephew? She would resist such attempts to lower her spirits. She wanted to refuse him and considered doing so, when her chamberlain interrupted her thoughts.
'He said he is under explicit orders of his Majesty,' He continued.
She nodded, knowing she had no choice 'then send him in.'
George Boleyn entered with all the arrogance and pomp and circumstance that surrounded all the Boleyns. They thought themselves so superior, even before Anne, she had noticed the way they carried themselves, as if the rest of the world was beneath them. He made no bow to her and looked down his nose in disgust at her appearance.
'Your grace, what an unexpected pleasure,' She said without any warmth.
'Likewise madam,' he replied, eyes cold.
'Of what can I do for you?' she asked.
'It pleases me to announce that her majesty Queen Anne has delivered of a healthy baby boy, and that the King is overjoyed with the news,' George said smiling smugly at her look of pain.
'Yes I am well aware your grace, news travels fast even here to this deserted place,' Katherine said.
'His majesty, summons you to court,' Boleyn continued as if she had not spoken.
Katherine glared back at him 'If you think I will come to London, and pay court to that bastard child and that usurper then you are a fool.'
'You are the fool if you think you have any choice in the matter,' Boleyn returned.
'Will you drag me all the way to Whitehall your grace?' Katherine hissed.
'I don't need too, you will come all by yourself,' Boleyn replied, obviously he knew something she did not, for she could not possibly imagine what would tempt her to leave.
She was ill, and she would not pay court to a bastard child of that harlot. She would go to the tower first, and die a martyr, she would never betray Mary and proclaim to the world that Anne's bastard was the heir to her daughter's throne.
'How so?' she asked.
'The King does not summon you to court to pay homage to his son,' Boleyn said.
'Then what does he summon me for?' she asked confused.
'It is about your daughter the Lady Mary,' he replied, and watched smugly as her face clouded in confusion and fear.
What was wrong with Mary? Was she sick? Was she hurt? Henry had forbidden all contact between them, and now he was allowing her to see her? It did not make sense unless something awful had happened to her.
'Is she ill?' she whispered fearfully.
'I have no more to say on the matter,' Boleyn replied.
Katherine knew what he was doing. He was dangling Mary in front of her, like a nut to a squirrell. He knew she would put aside everything for her daughter. The lack of information frustrated her as she worried for her daughter. But her pride smarted at the thought of giving in, especially to a Boleyn.
'Tell me,' she begged, shame filing her at the sound of her own desperate voice.
'You will have all the information you need at Whitehall madam,' Boleyn continued.
Katherine closed her eyes in agony and gave in, knowing that she would risk everything for her beloved daugher.
'Very well,' she muttered.
'We leave in an hour,' Boleyn replied and left the room to ready the carriage for the return journey for London.
Katherine struggled out of her chair and rang for her maids, and told them to pack all of her clothes and dress her for the journey. Her body shook at the strain but she ignored it and hurried her maids, impatient to be on the way.
Katherine had thought that when she returned to London it would be to crowds of people welcoming her back, she believed that the common people welcomed her and loved her, but the reality was decidedly different.
The streets were lined with evidence of celebration from the news of the new Prince, but when they saw the carriage go through the streets, either they were unaware that she was returning or they had no interest in her, or both.
Katherine didn't know how to feel about this, she had always been loved by the people, but now it seemed they had flocked to Anne's side.
The carriage entered into Whitehall and upon exiting she was shocked to see castle guards there to escort her, along with Sir Anthony Knivert. No one stepped forwards to help her down from the carriage and George Boleyn immediately joined Knivert as part of her escort.
'What a warm welcome Sir Anthony,' Katherine remarked.
'Madam,' he coldly replied.
Knivert had always been pleasant in the past, ready with a smile and a bow, he had seemed neutral in the whole great matter, but now he looked upon her with barely concealed contempt, and she frowned in confusion. Something had obviously occurred that warranted her coming here, and she started to fear what it could be. Boleyn had mentioned her beloved daughter and it obviously concerned her, was she in trouble?
'I am here as requested, may I be shown to my rooms in order to prepare to meet my hus...the King,' she amended quickly noticing the glare Boleyn sent her way.
'You are to be taken to his majesty directly,' Knivert replied.
'Then I am at his majesty's disposal,' Katherine replied, though inside she wondered if Henry had any common decency left in him. It was a long drive from the Moor to London, and she was tired and crumpled and wished to make a good impression. She didn't want her long awaited return to be mired by a crumpled appearance.
Katherine was led through the familiar corridors of Whitehall with the Castle guards flanking her and Boleyn leading and Knivert following behind. It seemed like they were escorting a prisoner to the tower, and her heart began to thud painfully in her chest.
The corridors were empty with no courtiers to be seen, and it was eerily quiet, all that could be heard was her footsteps rebounding of the cold stone walls of Whitehall palace, a place she had once considered her home, and now seemed forbidding and daunting.
They were heading towards the great hall and towards Henry's presence chamber where he received visitors and foreign dignitaries, but Katherine felt far from welcome. The great doors opened and Katherine barely heard her new title called out as she stared at the courtiers littering the great hall flanked on either side. Henry sat at the top of the room on a throne, the one next to it that had used to be hers but was now empty. And she supposed Anne was still recovering from the birth.
She held her head high and walked steadily forwards ignoring the courtiers and the silent glares sent her way and focused on the man she still considered to be her Husband. He had not changed in the short time they had been apart. He was still a handsome young man, though his hair was a little longer, and he was just as richly dressed as usual in a red doublet adorned with gold and diamonds, he looked every inch the handsome Prince she had fallen in love with and she felt her heart twinge with pain as she remembered that she had once been loved by this man in return.
She curtsied low and kept her eyes lowered as was proper and waited for him to acknowledge her.
'Katherine,' Henry said in a cold voice.
'Your Majesty,' Katherine replied rising and gazing into cold blue eyes.
Henry gazed at the woman he had once thought he had loved. She had aged considerably and looked weak and sickly and he felt a small glimmer of pleasure at the sight. His beloved Anne was in her rooms, with their son, littered in bruises and unable to speak, because of the machinations of her bastard daughter. Katherines discomfort could never be enough to match the pain and suffering Anne had gone through in the past few days.
'I must congratulate you on the birth of your Son,' Katherine said, knowing it was polite though the words sounded bitter in her mouth.
Instead of a smug response she was expecting she watched as Henry's hands clenched and his face turned white with anger.
'Do you really?' He asked.
'I know that it has long been your dearest wish,' Katherine replied, knowing that he had set aside their marriage for the chance to have a son with Anne.
'How little you know me,' Henry replied.
Whilst it was true that he had once considered it the most important thing in the world to have a son and continue the Tudor line, he now knew better. Nothing mattered more to him than Anne's health and happiness.
'Where is our daughter?' Katherine asked unable to stay quiet anymore, and not seeing her in the hall.
She had been so full of hope and excitement in seeing her beloved daughter once again and was sorely disappointed that she was not present, perhaps she was sick after all.
'That is an excellent question,' Henry replied almost too quietly to hear.
'Your majesty?' Katherine questioned, starting to feel the edges of panic flaring through her.
'Make way for Queen Anne!' a herald announced.
And suddenly the hall flared into life. The courtiers surrounding the Hall sank into deep curtsies and Henry sprang from his seat obviously not expecting his wife to be outside of her rooms. The look of love on his face caused a deep hurt in Katherine, but what also hurt was the marked show of respect and awe from the courtiers around her, many of whom had once been her supporters. They now bowed low and looked at the fake Queen with reverence.
Katherine turned to look at her most hated enemy and felt the blood rush from her face. She was carrying her boy. He was wrapped in purple velvet cloth but she couldn't make out his face. But she was absolutely astonished that she had brought him with her into the hall. She kept him close to her heart her arms wrapped securely around him as if someone would seek to take him away at any minute. Indeed she looked almost fearful.
As she got closer Katherine reluctantly sank into a curtsy. Anne was not in her usual attire. Vain and proud she usually wore the most expensive glamorous french fashions that breached propriety as far as Katherine was concerned, and her hair was usually painstakingly arranged in artful styles. Now she looked very different. Still heart stoppingly beautiful, but she was in an unrestricting plain green gown, that would not have looked out of place on a low courtier, her hair was down in simple natural curls that fell to her lower back. She had no jewels on her person and no crown on her head. The only thing that was different was an embroidered scarf that was wound round her neck in a peculiar way. Katherine wondered if this was some sort of new fashion that she was trying to make popular.
'My love!' Henry cried and rushed past Katherine to embrace Anne and plaster her face in kisses.
Where as before the open display of affection would have repulsed the courtiers, now they looked on in fondness.
Henry gazed at Anne in shock, awed by her courage to appear before her rival in her current state. By now the whole of Whitehall knew about her attack and they had rallied to her cause, unable to condone an attack on a pregnant lady and their now Prince. Henry placed a kiss on his sleeping son's forehead marveling at his beauty and perfection. God had clearly showed them his favour by gifting them with this precious boy. He had survived against all the odds against him and now he was thriving in his mother's love and protection and Henry felt his heart swell with adoration and pride at the sight of the two most important people in his world.
He gently led Anne to her throne and helped her sit down, making sure Thomas was covered and warm enough and making sure Anne was comfortable. If she wanted to be present for Katherine's interrogation then he wouldn't stop her, she was entitled to hear what she had to say.
Katherine gazed up at Anne in bewilderment. She had said nothing, no scathing remarks or smug pleasure at her success, instead she just gazed at Katherine with her cold blue eyes. Katherine had seen those eyes gaze at her before, and had always known that they contained intelligence and secrets. But now as she looked at her, she seemed to have something else about her, an almost calm anger and loathing so deep that it startled Katherine. Anne's eyes had always been beautiful and one of her best features, but now they were twisted in hatred. Katherine wondered again why she did not voice her obvious anger.
'You are here today to answer for your daughters crimes,' Henry said, startling Katherine from her thoughts.
'Crimes?' she asked shocked, her angel a criminal? Impossible.
'She is accused of treason, and attempted murder,' Henry answered.
'Of what are you speaking of Henry?' Katherine asked forgetting formality now in the shock of his statements.
'Three days ago, as my beloved wife laboured to bring my child into this world, an assassin entered and attempted to kill my wife and unborn child,' Henry said.
Katherine stared at him in shock. Someone had tried to kill Anne? Katherine did not like the woman, but to try and kill a pregnant lady, was an evil she would not condone.
'Surely you are not telling me that Mary tried to kill the Lady Anne?' Katherine asked astonished.
'Queen Anne!' Henry snapped at her.
'Forgive me, Queen Anne,' Katherine corrected, not wanting to worsen the situation more than it already was.
'The assassin was William Brereton, who we have come to understand was hired by the Imperial Ambassador Chapuys,' Henry said.
'I am very sorry to hear that Queen Anne was attacked and I condemn it utterly,' Katherine said truthfully.
'Brereton also named your daughter as a coconspirator,' Henry announced.
The silence in the Hall was crushing. Katherine felt as if her breathing was as loud as an orchestra and that everyone could hear her panicked gasps.
'Mary would never condone an attack on a pregnant lady, no matter who she was,' Katherine managed to force out.
'You believe this?' Henry asked.
'I did not raise our daughter to commit such heinous crimes,' Katherine replied firmly.
'Then you believe she is innocent?' Henry asked.
'Of course, Henry this is madness! You know our daughter and her loving kind heart. Any man will say anything to stop the pain of torture,' Katherine replied.
'And I would be inclined to agree with you if it wasn't for one thing,' Henry replied.
'And what is that?' Katherine asked.
'Your daughter is nowhere to be found, along with ambassador Chapuys,' Henry replied stonily.
Katherine felt her knees shake and felt herself drift to the floor. Where was her daughter? Why had she left? Her leaving was as good as proving her guilt, if she was innocent she should have stayed and fought, trusting in her father to see the truth of her character.
Her daughter was ruined, her life in England was over.
Henry stood and walked behind Anne's throne, and leaning over it he gently unwrapped the scarf from around her neck and the entire hall gasped in shock. Katherine looked at the severe bruising around Anna's neck and now understood why she remained silent.
'Your daughter conspired with that spanish bastard Chapuys to murder my wife and unborn child. Anne was betrayed and left alone, in the agonies of childbirth whilst a traitor tried to strangle the life out of her. Her father died protecting her. Her loving companion died protecting her. My son, my beloved boy has not heard his mother's voice, because your daughter orchestrated an attempt on her life, on both of their lives!' Henry shouted at her.
Katherine winced at every word, struggling to contain the misery that washed through her, if it was true then Katherine had no hope left in her anymore. She gazed again at the ugly marks on Anne's neck and watched as she placed a kiss on her child's forehead and now understood her protective stance and her utter reluctance to be separated from her child.
Someone had tried to kill him, in the middle of her labour someone had tried to kill both of them. Katherine could not imagine the depth of pain and trauma Anne must have gone through.
'And now I must ask you,' Henry said, causing her to look up at him again, 'Did you know?'
Katherine just stared back.
'Were you aware that your daughter was orchestrating this with the spanish ambassador? You have always slipped letters to him and to Spain, involving your nephew in things that were not his concern. Did you order this too?' Henry asked.
Katherine considered her reply. She was innocent of any knowledge about this plot, but why would Henry believe her? It was true she had sent secret letters to Spain and had secret meetings with the now dead Mendoza and had kept a correspondence with Chapuys. But she had not known that he was going to such extremes to get rid of her enemy. Perhaps she should say she had known and commit herself to a traitor's death. As a noble, and a once Queen she would be entitled to a painless death by beheading.
This life had not been kind to her. It had started well and with good prospects. She had been a Princess of Spain to the greatest monarchs to have lived. She was betrothed to a handsome kind Prince whom she had loved completely. But then he had died, and a little piece of her had died with Arthur. But she had pushed through that pain and had been rewarded with Henry, who had loved her and saved her and she had pushed through the pain of losing him. But then her babies had died, one by one, over and over again, taking little pieces of her with them, until the pain was exhausting in its extremities. But then she had been given Mary and she had pushed through it. But then Henry had strayed, and condemned their marriage and with every mistress he took, he took another piece of her with him. But she pushed through the pain because Mary would be Queen one day. Then Anne had come along and had stolen her husband's heart and had birthed a healthy son, and now there was nothing else to live for.
Mary was lost, her position ruined, she would forever be an exile from England. If she had fled to Spain then perhaps her nephew would help her. But to what end? The people would never forgive her for trying to murder an innocent. There was nothing left. Her heart's last pieces had come unstuck and there was nothing left.
Tears coursed silently down her face and she made no attempt to remove them. Nor did she answer Henry, content to let what would happen, happen.
Suddenly though she felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up into Anne's blue eyes that were now clouded in pity. Thomas was in his father's arms were he was cuddled close as he watched in confusion as Anne comforted the mother of the girl who had tried to end her life.
Katherine looked into the eyes of her enemy and felt the anger she had for this woman fade away. What was there to be angry about any more? What was the point? Anne seemed to see right through her. She stepped back and turned towards the courtiers and clicked her fingers. Two of her ladies ran from the sides towards her. Anne motioned with her hands to get them to help Katherine to her feet and she leaned on them heavily.
'Anne?' Henry questioned.
Anne turned to look at her husband and shook her head. When she had walked in the great hall and saw Katherine before her husband she had felt the hatred in her for this woman swell. This woman had given birth to an evil child who had tried to take her precious son away from her. She had been content to watch Henry grill her and watch her pain.
But slowly, that changed into pity as she watched Katherine sag and age in front of her. She watched as all hope left her and she seemed to crumble into nothing. The despair and pain on her face told Anne all she needed to know.
Katherine had not known.
This kind of pain only came from a mother feeling for her child. A pain Anne now understood far too well.
Deciding quickly she had summoned her sister and Nan and ordered them to help the once Queen to her feet.
Turning to face Henry, she communicated to him in the only way she could, by shaking her head and urging him to see with her eyes, that Katherine was innocent. She watched him sag, and knew that he understood.
'Take her to some guest quarters, and help her get settled,' Henry instructed Anne's ladies in waiting, who immediately obeyed and gently began to usher the once Queen out of the Hall.
Henry clutching Thomas close, moved towards Anne and kissed her forehead lovingly. She never ceased to amaze him, the depth of her compassion and kindness towards someone whom she should feel none. He certainly didn't, but he was powerless to Anne's wants and wishes. He would do whatever he could to make her happy, such was his devotion to her.
The courtiers were now starting to murmur and mingle again and talk about what had just happened. Henry knew that soon the details of Anne's attack would be make its way into the lower parts of London. Soon the whole of England would know of Anne's bravery and benevolence.
Clutching her close and passing Thomas back to her, he escorted her from the Hall and towards her quarters, knowing that she needed rest.
Tomorrow he would continue the hunt for his daughter, but right now, he need to be with Anne, for it was with her that he would always feel at peace.
Sorry for the late update! Let me know your thoughts.