The Second October In The Year Of Our Lord, 1452, Fotheringhay Castle, Northamptonshire, England:
Father sat mutely across the table. Ned glanced over, eyeing the way the man's hand tapped against the flagon of wine in front of him. Father's lips were pale and tightly drawn together; Ned knew it was best to avoid talking, even drawing breath, while they waited for news, and a storm heavily rained down outside. Pensively he tugged at the sleeve of his doublet. In any other occasion he would be ecstatic to be sat for so long in the same room with Father, unlike Edmund he was old enough, surely, but the young boy was all too aware of the situation at present to feel anything but dread.
His foot caught against the wooden table leg; Father barely noticed. He scratched at the wood with a dirtied fingernail; Father didn't even chide him for letting his hands look so dirtied, so unbecoming of a duke's son. He stretched his arms languidly, his muscles aching from being sat still for so long; Father hardly even flinched.
Cautiously, Ned leaned forward and clasped his hand around the flagon; Father still didn't acknowledge his presence. He gently and slowly began to move it towards him when a hand grasped his wrist and held him still. Softly, "Boy, 'tis no good - I see thy hand; thou art a clever lad but I'm not stone. Let it be."
Ned let out a heavy sigh in relief. "'Tis a long wait, Lord Father. May I not quench my thirst?"
Father waved a hand in dismissal. "I know not why I kept you here; thou shouldst be with thy brother Edmund in thy chambers."
A spark of indignation flared up in his son's eyes. "I am not a child, Lord Father. I can wait with thee and not cause thee distress."
That got a chuckle from the adult man. "Aye, Edward, my heir, thou art in thy tenth year now - you are not a squalling infant like George or thy unborn sibling." Ned smiled at the compliment and pulled the flagon closer to him. Father spoke up, "I do not need thee to be a drunkard, Edward."
"Just a small cup, Father," Ned showed him the amount he was pouring - a sweet, deep blood red wine. Again, a wave of the hand dismissed him from punishment. "I will not be an impudent son, certainly not an impudent heir."
"Nor do I think of thee as one, Ned," Father replied, a small smile gracing his anxious features. "Thou art a smart lad."
"Nor am I afraid, Lord Father," Ned spoke up resolutely. "I will fight for thee and the honour of the House of York."
Father was silent for a moment; he reached out and stroked his son's blond curls. "Oh, my son..." he whispered. "My Edward. I expect thee to honour our name and heritage, but promise me one thing."
Ned shivered as a candle in front of him on the table flickered, casting a shadow over his Father's face for the briefest of moments. "What is it, Lord Father?" he breathed in anticipation.
"Do not risk thy life or name at the peril of thy honour. Always think of the preservation of our name and family, for the greater good, but not at the risk of losing all thou hast."
At that moment a door slammed open and despite the noise it made he heard the sound of a bird - an owl - shrieking - as the blast caused the candle flame to disappear. The room was momentarily cast into darkness as the figure in the doorway hurried in, light streaming down the corridor. Ned turned and saw a raven on the window ledge as he hurried to a table to light another candle.
The man came to a halt in front of Father. Ned could feel the cold chill as he waved the bird away and shut the window against the rain that had been coming down in torrents since morning.
"'Tis a boy, My Lord," the man addressed Father. "Another son!"
Ned turned back around to see the man - his uncle, the Earl of Salisbury - stood at the table where Father sat. Salisbury looked at him as he approached with the candle, "Ned, I did not expect to see thee here. Art thou not meant to be in thy chambers with Edmund?"
Father waved his hand dismissively again. "The boy is allowed to be here. Is the babe healthy?"
"'It appears to be."
"And my Lady Wife?"
"Thanks be to God, my sister is in good health also."
"Good. I will be along presently. Ned, place that candle down and stay with me a moment."
Salisbury took that as his cue to leave and closed the door behind him, leaving Father and Ned alone. Ned frowned in confusion. "Art thou not pleased, Father? Another son for our house."
"I am more relieved; gladness will follow." Father glanced over at his son, shaking and sighing in relief. "I did not know whether thy mother and sibling would survive, lad."
Ned nodded, understanding, and took a sip of his wine.
"Richard." Father spoke, staring at his hands. "His name will be Richard. Thy new brother."
"I shall call him Dickon then," Ned announced, "to distinguish him from thee, my Lord Father."
Father chuckled and reached over to ruffle his son's hair. "Edward, be a good brother to thy siblings - in particular to thy brothers. They will look to thee for guidance when I am not here, when thou art the head of our house."
Ned shook his head in dismay. "Father, thou art not an old-"
"Edward." Father's voice brooked no dismissal. "Promise me, boy. Remember what I said; do not risk thy life or name at the peril of thy honour. Always think of the preservation of our name and family, for the greater good, but not at the risk of losing everything we have. Not when thy brothers will need you. When thou art Duke of York you shall represent our house and family name."
"I swear, on both these promises," Ned trembled with uncertainty. "I swear I shall preserve the House of York and not endanger it, I swear I will look out for my Lady Mother, sisters, and my brothers."
The Duke of York started at his son for a long moment, gauging the sincerity of the boy's words. Eventually, he gave a nod and a small smile, relieving Ned of the tension that had coiled up like a snake in his gut. "Thou art a good son, Edward. Remain a good son, brother, friend and ally, and a faithful servant to the Crown, and thou shalt do well."
For a moment Ned envisioned both himself and his father stood at Westminster Abbey, each wearing the crown of England on their heads. "I will do what I must as a servant of the Crown to preserve it and our house," he vowed. York's eyebrows tensely rose in contemplation of the seriousness of his son's declaration and then patted him on the shoulder. "Thou hast a royal lineage, Ned, but we are servants to the Crown, not its owners." His voice did not convey the conviction he was trying to impart on his son.
"Aye, Father," Ned answered slowly, the golden crowns still floating in front of his eyes. Three crowns now, worn by three figures - the third man, a shorter one, he did not recognise. He shook the dream away and turned to look at his father. "I understand."
York mutely nodded and made to rise to his feet. "Whatever happens, Ned, always be prepared."
Ned rose to his feet as well, placing his cup on the table. "May I see my new brother with you, my Lord Father?"
"Aye, boy, thou hast been good company; thy new brother will have good company in thee." York left the room, his quick footsteps echoing down the dimly lit corridor.
Ned went to blow out the candle, when a cold blast of wind blew the shutters open, causing the flame to go out. "Dear brother," he mused, "my new brother, Richard, may your life not be as gloomy as the day thou hast been born has been. I will do what I can to protect thee and our siblings - I hope thou will dost the same for me and our father's and house's honour."
He quickly rearranged the shutters and hurried out the door, the light from the candles in the corridor lighting up his blond hair like a flash or a spark of lightening for a brief moment, then dimming down until the shadows in the hallway reflected nothing at all.
Some historical/literary context:
1. Ned/Edward, Earl of March (the future Edward IV), and Edmund, Earl of Rutland, spent their pre-teen and teenage years at Ludlow; but I like to imagine a ten year old Edward of March being at Fotheringhay Castle with his family when his youngest brother was born.
2. Father/York, and his brother-in-law the Earl of Salisbury, may or may not have been at Fotheringhay Castle when Richard/Dickon was born - Again, I like to imagine that they, especially York, were.
3. The description of Ned's/Edward's blond hair represents purity, aptly like depictions of his sons, the Princes in the Tower. Ironically for Ned though he was far from pure in life, while the brief lighting up of his hair like lightening also represents the hope he (and indirectly his sons) represented for the House of York - however, as he died prematurely and in a poor physical state, Ned's/Edward's (and his sons') potential for the House of York was not to last, hence the flash being brief and consumed by shadows. In comparison, the shrieking of the owl and other ominous signs, such as the weather, blood red wine, ravens, shadows, dim and brief flashes of light at the birth of Richard/Dickon reflect the ominous warnings in Shakespeare's play of Richard III's unnatural and cursed role in history - here it is ambiguous as to whether the individual that has just been born will be the outright evil Shakespearean tyrant or the enigmatic/ambiguous individual he was in history. It is up to the reader to decide which figure he will grow up to be. Either way, as history shows, it wasn't a graceful end for either Ned/Edward or Dickon/Richard. The dichotomy of Edward being the light (albeit prematurely dimmed) and Richard's birth being consumed by storms and shadows reflects the dichotomy of character between Edward IV and Richard III William Shakespeare and Thomas More laid out in their Histories, while also ironically reflecting in reality Edward IV's far from pure character and Richard III's eventual declamation of his late-brother's court as being filled with corruption.
4. Years ago I once read that windows were meant to be open, along with doors, when a child was being born in medieval times, to allow the Devil to leave the dwelling and not linger near a newborn-child. However windows were typically covered up to prevent too much light entering the birthing chamber as it was believed too much natural sunlight was bad for the expectant mother's eyes, although one would be left open for fresh air. In this case the window in Father/York and Ned's/Edward's room is open and then shut against rain, before bursting open again due to the bad weather. This also hints at Richard/Dickon's unnatural or dubious future - along with the shrieking owl and the raven cawing at the window ledge. The weather being stormy on the day of Richard's/Dickon's birth is also a portent of bad times to come, not just for him but for the House of York, as within a matter of years everything will turn upside down, and Fortune's Wheel will keep rising and falling for each member as well as the House of York/Yorkist Dynasty in history overall.
5. Father's/York's half-hearted declaration of being a loyal servant to the Crown reflects the tense period at the time; he'd tried to remove the 'corrupt influences' at the court of Henry VI as a servant to the Crown, and in that year had failed be named Henry VI's heir, but had not yet declared himself the rightful king - that would not happen until 1459. Young Ned/Edward detects his father's burgeoning ambitions and begins to have some of his own.
6. The three crowns Ned/Edward sees represent the surviving three sons of York - Edward, Earl of March/King Edward IV, George, Duke of Clarence, and Richard, Duke of Gloucester/King Richard III - but the three men young Ned/Edward sees in his mind are himself, his father, and an unidentifiable man - his newborn brother Dickon/Richard grown up - the man who will become King Richard III. He does not see his future sons, the Princes in the Tower - at age ten, his future sons do not even occur to him at that point, but the vision hints at how Ned's/Edward's sons will never be kings but his youngest brother Dickon/Richard will be.
7. "I do not need thee to be a drunkard, Edward." - In his second reign from 1471-1483, Edward IV becomes debauched and lives an unhealthy lifestyle, having no more battles to fight to secure his throne after 1471. Additionally, the Duke of York's second son, George, Duke of Clarence, becomes a drunkard and is infamously executed by Edward IV for treason by being supposedly drowned in a barrel of Malmsey wine in 1478.
8. The reference to Richard/Dickon being supposedly healthy refers to a poem in the Clare Roll describing the children of the Duke of York, including those that died young. Supposedly it refers to Richard/Dickon being sickly in his infancy, but could refer, as the Richard III Society has posited, to how he lived, along with George, while four of his siblings did not.
9. Ned/Edward is unable to keep either of his promises to his father in the end - The House of York falls apart on itself and by 1485 only a few male claimants are left, who all meet tragic ends; nor is he able to look out for his brothers - Edmund is murdered alongside the Duke of York at the Battle of Wakefield in 1460, George of Clarence is executed for treason in 1478, and Edward IV himself dies prematurely in 1483 and subsequently is unable to stop the events that lead to Richard III usurping the throne from Edward's eldest son, and the eventual collapse of the House of York and the rise of the Tudor dynasty in 1485 (later pretenders try but fail to restore the House of York to the throne).
10. "I will do what I can to protect thee and thy siblings - I hope thou will dost the same for me and our father's honour." - Richard/Dickon was the most like their father in looks and disposition and was known for his steadfast loyalty to Edward IV. Yet this is juxtaposed with his usurpation of the throne - which was sudden and inexplicable to contemporaries; in some ways it was a betrayal of Edward IV's wishes but also a way of trying to preserve the House of York as the last remaining son of Richard, Duke of York, as his nephews were born of (supposedly) Edward IV's bigamous marriage to their mother, Elizabeth Woodville, and Edward IV himself may have been illegitimate (highly unlikely though).
