Chapter XXXVII

April, 1543

Jeanne bravely entered the now deserted Rochford Hall, praying for strength and guidance. She knew the risks but was determined to fight for the Lady Protector' cause.

Her heart pounded alarmingly loud as nerves settled in her stomach once she began ascending the stairs. She opened the door and approached the large body in the groaning bed. She wrinkled her nose as the smell of decay rose from the enormous slab of fat. There was no doubt the King is dead! Gingerly, she poked his face with a gloved finger and waited for a reaction.

Nothing.

Inhaling a sigh, Jeanne murmured a quick prayer and left, just in time to meet the French captain Gaston de Tonérre at the door.

"Sauveur!" said Tonérre, surprised, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. "What are you doing here? I did not know you were coming to meet us!"

"Last minute...thing," said Jeanne, shutting the door behind her. "Do not bother coming in here. The King has already left for London with loyal guards. I remained here to inform you about the sudden change of plan. He sends his apologies. We are to join him at once. King's orders."

"That pig!" grumbled Tonérre, turning to his equally disgruntled soldiers. "We are going to London!" he called. "The King has already left!" He looked back at Jeanne. "Do you know the way?" he asked. "We were not given instructions how to reach London. Why do our good King Francis send us here in this cold, wet land?! We will all die of coldness!"

"Our King knows best. Yes, that is why I am here. To lead you to London."

"Excellent! The King is wise to trust you, dear Jeanne."

"Thank you, Tonérre. I have to admit, I am surprised to see you here in England. You are one of the King's most trusted men! Should you not be in France, guarding the King?"

"This is punishment, Sauveur. I developed an...infatuation for one of His Majesty's former mistresses, and she responded well. However, the King was displeased and sent me here to cold England. Bah, I do not like it here at all." He shuddered.

"Nor I, Tonérre. Nor I. I cannot wait to return to France."

"It was cruel for you to stay in this freezing place for all those years."

"It is useful that I did, or I cannot lead you to London! Are you and the men ready to march to London, or do you require a short rest?"

"A short rest would be better."

"Very well. Five minutes and then we will head off to London."

In the village of Basildon, Mary, George, Anne, the soldiers and villagers hid, waiting and watching for the French troops.

For two days, they – royal and commoner – dug large holes in the ground and covered them with leaves, hoping the traps would work.

The village women hid together in the largest house, some given daggers for protection. In armour, Anne brandished her sword expertly after a quick lesson from George. Mary carefully hid behind a bush beside Anne, notching an arrow on the bow Anne had given her for Christmas. Philip stood behind them, his sword at the ready; he was tasked with protecting the women. Near the front line, George gave last minute advice to the soldiers and turned and nodded at Anne and Mary.

Mary felt a someone tap her shoulder.

She turned around and saw a young girl. "You should be with your mother," Mary said, a little more sternly than she expected. "Soldiers are about to be here any moment!"

"I know," mumbled the girl, holding out a small corked bottle of clear liquid. "My father said you should coat the arrow tips with this." Giving Mary a frightened look, she scampered off. Mary examined the bottle and gasped, "Poison!"

"Do it," encouraged Anne as Philip nodded in agreement. "If Jeanne fails and the French soldiers do not die from Sweating Sickness, shooting them with poisoned arrows isn't a bad idea. Besides, you're an excellent archer and will never miss. God will forgive you, I'm sure of it. This is a battle we cannot lose – all the other French armies have been chased away."

Her hands shaking, Mary uncorked the bottle and dipped her first arrow in it. She hoped God will forgive all the sins she will commit.

Just as she dipped her final arrow in the last drops of poison, George whistled; the French are here. A few seconds later, Jeanne appeared in sight, followed by a small cluster of unhappy Frenchmen. Sweating Sickness had done its job well; many French soldiers had died on their way to Basildon – according to reliable witnesses – and only a small number remained.

As they approached the waiting Englishmen, some fell in the well-hidden trap with shouts of surprise and anger. The remainder of them looked at each other with confusion and uncertainty. The English were well-prepared, and after their recent sufferings, not many of them were interested in dying forgotten and alone in England.

"We will surrender," murmured Tonérre.

"What?" said Jeanne, taken back with surprise. "No! We must fight for France! We cannot give up! We will be seen as cowards!"

"I rather live a coward than die for no cause. I do not know why King Francis believes Henry VIII should be back on the throne. Jeanne, tell no one this – I rather the Lady Protector. She will not declare war for no purpose. Please promise me you will tell no one."

"I um, I promise."

Tonérre was relieved. "Shall we surrender?"

Before Jeanne could reply, an arrow flew from the English side and dug into Tonérre's forehead, killing him instantly. Another arrow followed another as they found their targets in the helplessly outnumbered and tired Frenchmen who had no heart to fight.

"Stop!" cried Jeanne, stepping in between the French and English soldiers. "They-" An arrow buried itself in her chest. With a gasp, she fell to the ground, blood gushing from her mouth and wound. Her vision blurred and shouts echoed in the background.

"Jeanne!"

Mary was at her side in an instant. "It was an accident," she said, concerned. "Sir John Knollys did not realise you were on our side, and he thirsted for French blood."

"I.." murmured Jeanne, squeezing Mary's hand tightly. "I will join God...my life is over, oh Lord, please make my passing over gentle. I...your humble and devoted servant is now ready to be taken into your divine care and judgement...I lie here dying for England's cause yet I long for France. I die a friend of England and a child of France..."

"You are hallucinating, dear Jeanne." Mary's eyes glistened with tears as she felt her friend and loyal servant's heart beat slower by the second. "You will be alright-"

"No...I am dying...I know I am..."

"You will be buried with honours," Mary promised. "Everything..."

"I want my body to be buried in Normandy but my heart here in England. Physically I am a French woman, but my heart leads me to the English cause – your cause."

Mary nodded tearfully. "You have helped us like no other. I will never forget you. England will never forget you. You will always be remembered."

The remaining French prisoners were marched through the streets of London in chains, behind the royal party and were watched by the English citizens.

Upon Henry VIII's death, the Prince of Wales became King Arthur I of England under the regency of the Lady Protector with the full approval of the Privy Council and the English people, who openly declared their love for Mary.

Anne ascended the podium with Mary and George and the people quietened.

"Good people," Mary announced. "Together, we have faced and survived French and Spanish invasion and showed the world of England's independence and strength. From this moment on, no one will dare call us weak and malleable! England will remain a prosperous and thriving nation like it once was! The only way for England to remain flourishing and peaceful is through the loyalty of its people and friends. An example of open allegiance militarily, civilly and diplomatically is seen recently through the foreign invasions, and with the agreement of the Queen Dowager-" She nodded at Anne. "-our dear King-" She nodded at the solemn King Arthur. "-and the Privy Council, I have the pleasure of announcing the creation of the prestigious Order of the Rose, which honours all those loyal to England whether diplomatically, militarily or civilly, with the motto 'tenore agere et fidem' ."

The people cheered and clapped.

"I have decided that the first recipient is Jeanne of France," Mary continued, ignoring the surprised gasps and looks amongst the people. "Even though she is French, she had shown unswerving loyalty to England during a time of strife, and even died for our cause. I hope you all agree with me that she deserves that honour." The people roared with approval as she handed the white green ribbon embroidered with the Tudor rose to an elderly and weeping woman – Jeanne's mother.

"The following people are also receivers of this prominent Order," Mary went on. "His Highness, the Duke of Bavaria who aided both diplomatically and militarily; Her Highness, the Duchess of Bavaria who helped the royal children escape during a time of crisis; the late Eustace Chapuys, 1st Earl of Lancaster who died an ill man, constantly working for England's cause diplomatically; Sir William Stafford and his wife Mary, Lady Stafford, for their civil participation in England's hour of need and the many men and women of Basildon who helped defend their land from the invading French soldiers, who now stand in front of you as our diplomatic prisoners."

Again, the people shouted positively and threw flowers in her direction.

The royal family waved and rode through the gates into the Tower's courtyard, the English people's cheers serving as music in their ears.

"The people loved you," said Anne, a little enviously during her quiet supper with Mary, George, Philip and Jane. "They would kill a man for you."

"Let's hope that will not happen," said Mary calmly. "They love you too."

"They love all of us," said George, before Anne could speak. "Now that it is settled, what about precedence? I rather we discuss it now than have a slip-up during the first banquet in a few days. I hope now that Arthur is King of England, you two will remain friends. I don't want to be torn in two when you two begin tearing at each other's throats."

"We're fine," said Anne and Mary in unison, more coldly than usual.

"As England does not have a queen, they have a Lady Protector and a Queen Dowager," said George thoughtfully. "Usually it would be the Queen Dowager..."

"You want Mary to have precedence over me?!" Anger flared in Anne's eyes. She had suffered – with their knowledge – second place in Henry VIII's heart and was never truly respected as the first lady of the Court. Facing that humiliation again – especially to Mary – was too much to bear. Having Mary take precedence over her was as if she betrayed her. Hours of plotting and planning against Henry VIII would've been for nothing.

"I am willing for Anne to remain the first lady of Court until Arthur marries," said Mary, hoping to retain peace between her and Anne. "I am not bothered with the position of behind her. Besides, it is only right for the Queen Dowager to be first lady of Court."

"What about Elizabeth and my other daughters?"

"I am the oldest daughter of the late Henry VIII, and it is my right to have precedence over your daughters, so I do not think that will change."

Anne grumbled in agreement. "I suppose you are right. What about your daughters? Is their Court protocol about that too?"

"They will be behind your daughters. I am Lady Protector of England and I have no desire to usurp your son or bastardise your daughters. I made a vow to protect Arthur, and I will live by it till my death. Do you suspect me of plotting against him already?"

The image of Richard III of England murdering his nephews in the Tower suddenly appeared in Anne's mind. "I trust you," she said to Mary hastily. "Forgive my...suspicions. I will never suspect you of working against me or Arthur. I know you will do the best for my children. More than Henry would've ever did for them." She managed a smile. "There's another thing I want to discuss. Now that I am the Queen Dowager, I wish to relinquish my title 'Marquess of Pembroke'."

"What? Why?"

"Like you said before, we are still allies. To prove I am still your friend, I wish to give the marquessate of Pembroke to your second son, little Georgie. Hal will inherit all of George's titles and estates, and is already the Marquess of Ormond now that George is the Duke of Richmond. I think it is fair for Georgie to be a marquess like his brother. Ned is still a child, but when he grows up, I'm sure a marquessate can be created for him too."

"You do not wish for the marquessate of Pembroke to pass to Elizabeth? She is your eldest child and eligible to be marchioness of Pembroke in her own right."

"I believe you will make a great match for her one day."

"Not with the French." Mary smiled, her eyes twinkling with laughter.

Anne laughed. "It seems you are right after all this time that the French are not to be trusted. I cannot believe I trusted that sly King Francis! Then again, I prefer Elizabeth to be the Duchess consort of a small duchy than the Duchess of Orleans in France."

"As you are kind enough to give Georgie the title 'Marquess of Pembroke', I am prepared to give Elizabeth the title 'Princess Royal'."

"Why?! You're the oldest daughter of the late King!"

"I am also the present King's regent. In a double ceremony, we can make Georgie the Marquess of Pembroke and Elizabeth the Princess Royal. The people love celebrations and festivities, and what better way to show the world England's magnificence through jousting tournaments and ceremonies? France and Spain will not dare to attack England again after their defeat. Again, I will reinforce England's peaceful – yet strong – nature and offer peace treaties between England and each nation. I will no longer see the Holy Roman Emperor as my cousin, but as a potential ally."

"Are you certain about this? He is as unreliable as Francis of France."

"You are right. I will despatch a peace offer to his brother, the King of the Romans and suggest a match between Katherine and his son, Archduke Maximilian. Charles V may have thought of that earlier on, but I will enforce it."

"What about Elizabeth?"

"I want her to marry for love. I do not want her to marry for politics. I know she eventually will, but I do not want her to end up like you in your marriage to Henry VIII."

Anne was touched at Mary's earnestness and love for Elizabeth. "You are willing to sacrifice your own children for Elizabeth's happiness?" she whispered, unaware of Philip and Jane's inquisitive eyes glued to her. "You want Elizabeth to marry for love?"

Mary nodded. "Of course I want my daughters to marry happily, but I want Elizabeth to understand that marriage isn't suffering for women. I think she still believes marriage is a nightmare for her after the lovely example Henry VIII set her." Her last words dripped with sarcasm. "I hope she will eventually change her mind about marriage."

"Will you allow her to be unmarried?" said George uneasily.

"Why wouldn't I?" said Mary, giving him a suspicious look.

"In another nine years, Arthur will not need a regent. What if he desires an alliance with...say Sweden, and the King of Sweden is a notorious womaniser who does not find Elizabeth appealing? How can you save her from that?"

"I will install the idea of love in Arthur's mind before he rules England. I'm sure you have no objection in that, George? What about you, Anne?"

"Do what you must do," said Anne, heaving a sigh. "You are more of a ruler than I'll ever be."

"You've done what other women never attempted," said Jane quietly. "You used your wit as a weapon while many like Bessie Blount, flaunted their beauty for further advancement. Give yourself more credit for you actions, Anne. You are one of the greatest women in England."

"I'm proud to call you my sister," said George fondly, patting Anne's hand. "I'm sure you and Mary can rule England together peacefully. Speaking of sisters, what do you think we should do about Will Stafford and Mary? They deserve more than being recipients of the Order of the Rose. I think Will should be given the earldom of Buckingham."

"Really?" said Anne, with a slight frown. "Is it just me, or do nobles bearing the name 'Buckingham' have a habit of causing trouble for rulers?"

"That may be the case, but it's Will Stafford we're talking about. Our Mary's husband."

"He is still a Stafford."

"Give him a chance, Anne. Without his – and Mary's – help, we would all be rotting in the Tower, awaiting execution. It's just the earldom of Buckingham, not the dukedom."

"I don't trust Staffords. Especially after what Lady Salisbury plotted. Her granddaughter, Lady Dorothy Stafford, informed me of all her plans after I questioned her. Mary, your old governess is delusional if she thinks she can bring back the Plantagenet dynasty."

"I know," said Mary glumly, thinking of old Lady Salisbury in the prison lodgings for nobles a few corridors away. "We've been so busy removing foreign threats that the matter of Isabella's marriage left my mind! I do not have the heart to execute Lady Salisbury. Even though she has committed treason of the highest regard, she still cared for me when I was a child. I wish she did not turn her coat to us, but I guess her hatred towards you only intensified during her life."

"She has to be executed," insisted Anne stubbornly. "She – and her family – is a threat to Arthur, and I cannot have his legitimacy doubted. Once the Catholics realise you are my ally, they will turn their allegiance to the Poles. Order her execution."

"That is quite harsh," said Jane uncertainly, as Philip nodded with assent. "She is an old lady devoted to her causes. Even though it is treasonous, does she really deserve to die from execution? The Catholics will view her as a martyr."

"She is the puppet master of her entire family," Anne pointed out. "If we execute her, the Pole family will cease to be important."

"We still cannot ignore them," argued George.

"Paternally, they are descended from a Welsh knight. They can go back to being an insignificant family in Wales. We can forget them."

"What if a Pole marries a royal-blooded noblewoman? He will have political support and enough wealth to fund an invasion! At the moment, the Poles are safely in prison, but what if we execute Lady Salisbury? They will want us dead."

"They are powerless!"

"For now! Don't let power get into your head!"

"What do you think we should do? Reward them for committing treason?"

"If you really want the beginning of Arthur's reign to be splattered with bloodshed, so be it! Order the execution of a Pole man. The Catholics will not declare a Pole knight a martyr. The only Pole they will view as a martyr will be Lady Salisbury! We are all watchful of potential threats, but do you honestly want your son's reign to begin with the execution of Poles?"

Anne poked her roasted beef sullenly. "No."

"With Mary as his Lady Protector, Arthur is safe. No one will dare harm a hair on his body. Are you done with your roasted beef? Perhaps it is time to have the apple pie."

"When did you get so peckish?"

"I received a letter from my brother," said Philip, changing the subject. "He apologises for his behaviour to Jane and the children during their stay in Bavaria. Furthermore, he offers compensation through the marriage of Princess Cecily and his son, Electoral Prince Ruprecht of the Palatinate and is prepared to endow my Maria Anna with the county Palatinate of the Rhine if she marries his stepson, Albert III, Margrave of Brandenburg."

"Janey died there," said Anne bitterly. "I do not want to send another daughter to a place where she will be treated coldly and left to die. Your brother promised peace and sanctuary, but all he does is leave Janey to die from an illness."

"At least Otto Henry apologised," said Jane mildly.

"I will consider it," spoke Mary regally. "Cecily is a child, and betrothals can be easily broken in a year or two. I personally prefer Cecily to be a queen – if she cannot marry for love – but if Anne is happy for her daughter to be the future Electress Palatine, I have no objections and will agree to negotiate with Otto Henry. Of course the Privy Council will have to agree, but we can worry about that later. Anne, do you want your daughter to be future Electress Palatine?"

Everyone looked at Anne.

"Do what you must do," she said listlessly. "If you think a peace treaty with the Elector Palatine is needed, so be it."

Mary frowned at her. "Are you alright?"

Anne stood up, swaying unsteadily.

She took a deep breath as she felt blood rush through her head and pain in her joints. She took a step back and collapsed in George's arms.

"Call a physician!" Mary ordered, looking concerned at her. "Anne? Can you hear me? Do you need anything? What's wrong?"

"I..." Anne said faintly. "I don't know...I feel...cold...Lady Salisbury must be executed...please...I am so tired...it cannot be..."

"Poison," Mary finished. Closing her eyes for a second calmly, she turned and looked at a hovering Philip. "There's been a change of plan," she told him, her heart beating faster. "Go to Lady Salisbury's chambers and inform her that...inform her that she will be questioned on poisoning the Queen Dowager, and if found guilty, she will be hung as a traitor."

Should I write a sequel about Arthur's reign or continue it in this story? Sorry for the wait, as this chapter had been quite difficult to write :)