CHAPTER EIGHT - HORNBY CASTLE LANCASHIRE NOVEMBER 1473

Marion yanked the cloak tighter about herself as she leaned over to check if Katheryn's was equally secure. They were out again on horseback, and Marion was now used to the saddle and the sores that came with it, having ridden her pony a few other times over the past year. The little family had left their Leicester home again on Dickon's orders. He had been sent on official business by his brother, the King, and had begged Kate to help him with a task his business made him unable to complete.

Anne Harrington, called "Nan" for shirt lived at Hornby Castle in Lancashire with her husband. It was here that Dickon had met and bedded her, here where their bastard son had been raised. John, Dickon had said his name was. And it was at Hornby Castle where John had lived for two years under the wrath of his step-father Edward Stanley (Marion could not remember if he held a title or not, though he probably did). It was because Edward Stanley was such a ferocious man that Dickon had asked for Kate's help. Nan was, according to Dickon's last letter, a pariah in her own home. She spent her days trying to protect herself and her son from her husband. According to the letter, the only people Nan trusted when it came to herself and her son were Dickon, and her best friend from childhood: Kate.

It was for that reason, then, that Marion, Kate and Katheryn found themselves riding along bumpy, dusty roads towards Hornby Castle. Kate sat on her horse, back ram rod straight, face set into a scowl. Katheryn's small fingers were wound into Kate's horse's main, as her eyes wandered lazily across the landscape around them. Marion sat warily upon her pony, eying her sister. Kate looked angry, but Marion dared not say anything, lest she set off Kate's temper, which was fragile and easy to break as a dandelion in the wind. But still, she was curious as to why her sister would carry a grudge against her best friend for so long. With that in mind, Marion did dare to ask.

"Katie?"

"What?" Kate barked.

"Why are you still angry at Nan? Is it because she gave Dickon a son and you did not? Are boys still worth more than girls even if they are bast -"

"Enough Marion! You will not speak of such tings! Children ought to be seen, not heard."

Judging from the answer she received, Marion guesses she was right. Kate was jealous of Nan because Nan gave Dickon a son, even if he was a bastard. Oh, speaking of... Marion glanced at Katheryn, and felt a rare surge of pride. Katheryn did not cry over her mother's outburst, only breathed in short, shallow gasps, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

She is growing up, Marion realized. We both are.

And that was true. Katheryn was four months shy of her forth birthday, and Marion was a few weeks shy of her tenth birth year, and Kate was days away from her nineteenth year. How so much could happen in such a short space of time, Marion did not know. But as she looked down at her lap, then back at her niece and sister, she reasserted to herself what she did know.

We are all growing up.

From a distance, Hornby Castle did not look like much. Not like Middleham, tall and strong, nor even like Donington, which was quaint and livable, yet grand in its own way. Hornby resembled something that could have grown from the earth, so dense were the trees and mosses that grew over and around its walls. But as they rode closer, Marion could see the towers, battlements, and richly decorated flags.

The Stanley's must be hungry for honor, she thought. Dickon only needs the white boar, and the white rose of York. These flags have so many pictures on them, they make my head hurt.

Standing just inside the castle gates to greet them was a woman. She had chestnut brown hair braided down her back, a few strands curling around her temples. Warm, bright brown eyes gazed from a kind, open face. She was very pretty, and Marion guessed that was why Dickon had liked her. In her arms was a little boy of about two years. With a start, Marion realized he looked just like a smaller version of Dickon. Though his hair was shorter, and stuck up at the back, and his eyes were and slightly lighter shade of blue, there was no mistaking that he was John of Gloucester. The only other difference between the boy and his father was that he smiled more, and pointed excitedly in the direction of their horses. Marion could hear his shrieking baby language as they rode up to the castle.

"Kate!" Nan greeted, stepping forward. "It is so nice to see you again."

"Indeed," Kate snapped, not looking at her friend, not smiling either.

"Is this little Katheryn?" Nan asked, as the stable hands helped the three down from their horses, and led their steeds away.

"Yes," came the stiff reply as Katheryn was pulled ever closer to her mother.

"She's cute, she looks much like you."

Marion shuffled on her feet, feeling uncomfortable as her sister offered no reply.

For the first time that day, Nan's smile wavered and died. She sighed, passing John into the arms of a heavy-chested woman who had just come outside. Marion heard Nan briefly refer to the woman as "Alice".

"Why this enmity, Kate? Do you not remember the fun times we used to have together? Do you not remember those days spent in the gardens, or our sinful midnight trips to the kitchens? Do you miss any of it? I know I do."

Marion felt her face crumple at Nan's heartbreaking speech. Beside her, Kate's face did the same, her eyes crinkling around the edges as her mouth fell into a deep frown. The words of her longtime old friend seemed to break though the walls of ice and heartache she had built up around herself, and with a cry, the blonde woman launched herself into the brunette's arms. Both were sobbing.

From the arms of the woman - who Marion now noticed had gray hair and a chest not just large, but twice the size of Katheryn - John began to cry. He reached for his mother, obviously distressed by her sudden tears. Katheryn let out a yelp and rushed to Marion's skirts, trying to hide herself in her aunt's cloak.

At the sounds the children were making, Kate and Nan disentangled themselves from one another's arms, smiling.

"Your son looks just like Dickon," Kate said watching as Nan gathered the boy in her arms. "He will grow to be very handsome."

"Thank you," Nan smiled, kneeling to examine the ebony curls and a single blue eye that peeped from the folds of Marion's cloak. "Your daughter is beautiful, just like you. 'Tis a miracle she looks nothing like your mother."

Kate let out a short, sharp bark of laughter. "Indeed."

Marion watched as Kate went from standing to crouching on her haunches, arms outstretched for Katheryn.

"Come here, poppet, and meet your brother."

"Little brother?" Katheryn asked, stepping forwards to look at John. Marion followed close behind, also gazing at the boy.

The girl stopped, eying the baby in Nan's arms. "Papa marry you?"

"No, child." Nan whispered, before glancing at Kate. "Does she -"

"Aye," Marion answered for her sister. "She knows." she paused, glancing at Katheryn. "You've met your papa's wife. Remember Lady Anne? She gave you sweetmeats for the first time in April. She was heavy with child."

Both Kate and Nan cringed at the prolonged mention of Dkcion's wife, but Marion felt it had to be said, in order to jog Katheryn's memory. And she was right.

"Him like me?" the child asked, pointing up at John.

"Yes, he's like you... and me." Marion mumbled.

Katheryn gazed at Marion quizzically, and she realised that this was the first time the girl had ever heard that her aunt was also a bastard. Of course Katheryn would be quizzical, it was only natural. What Marion did not expect was the little girl's reaction was when Katheryn grabbed Marion's wrist, dragging her closer to Nan and John, before wrapping one arm around her little brother, and the other around her aunt.

Nan gasped, Kate began to cry silently, and suddenly, there were more arms around them. The five of them remained like that, huddled in the entry of Hornby Castle, with Alice standing off to one side, until there came from the gates, a great commotion.

To say that Marion had been shocked by the sudden arrival of Dickon was perhaps the understatement of the century. She had screamed at the noise outside, but found herself still locked in a tangle of arms. Nan had been terrified, probably thinking - no, fearing - that it was her husband; and been reduced to a living statue for a moment, simply gaping at the drawbridge that led to the castle. Kate, too, stood gaping at the dark-haired man as he rode through the door, dropping his helmet on the hard packed dirt floor. Though she had been the first to recover from her shock.

"Dickon!"

Kate's cry made Nan snap out of her stupor, and, together, the reunited friends began to untangle themselves from the web of arms in which they had placed themselves. Marion watched as Dickon looked on in amusement, and received his children's gusto-filled greetings when they were free to run to him. The air was filled with shouts of "Papa," as a servant came to receive Dickon and take his horse away as Nan spoke up.

"My Lord, what are you doing here - if I may be so bold? Did you not say you were in London, doing business for the King?"

"Aye, Nan, that I was. But my business has brought me here, funnily enough."

"So our journey here was for naught?" Kate asked, as Marion rubbed her sore bottom. Yes, she was used to the saddle, but that did not mean that it was painless to ride her pony.

"Ah, Kate, Nan, it seems that the wheel of fortune has turned in the most surprising of ways this day. I was, indeed, supposed to be in London for another week. However, as fate would have it, the business my brother had with me sent me back here straight away. Now, might a man ask for a cup of wine to ease aching temples? You have not the idea how hard it was for me to ride to get here before you left, Kate."

There was a great flurry of activity as servants rushed the party in to the solar. Due to the rapidly cooling weather, wine and hot drinks was brought in, as well as platters of bread, cheese and fruit. The children were given milk and hunks of bread and butter. Once all were fed and watered, the little ones fell asleep on either side of their father who sat on a wide settee, while Kate, Nan and Marion sat on three separate chairs across from him.

"So what brings you here, my Lord? Does the King want something from my husband? Has he not paid his taxes?" Nan asked

"Nay, lady, this has nothing to do with the Lord Stanley." Dickon's eyes flickered to Marion, who sat straight in her chair, her legs swinging back and forth, not yet long enough to reach the floor.

"The King sent me here because of Marion."

"Marion?" screeched Kate. "Pardon me, my Lord of Gloucester, but what business does the King have with my little sister? She has done no wrong!"

Kate's arms snatched Marion up like the tentacles of a giant squid. The young girl screeched in protest, flailing her limbs desperately.

"Kate!" she whined, squirming in protest. Kate only held her to her bosom tighter, knuckles white with effort.

Dickon bowed his head. To Marion, the tense silence that followed was as if someone had sucked the air out of the room. None dared breath until Dickon said what he had come to say.

"'Tis tidings you will not be glad to hear, Kate. The King wishes for Marion to go to London, so she may wed a German lord and cement an alliance with Europe in these dire times."

Dire times? Marion thought. What dire times? I thought the war was over?

But then she remembered. The content of one of Dickon's letters from earlier that year came back to her as quickly as she had forgotten it. Earlier that year, Marion had heard that France was preparing to invade Burgundy, and that England had hardly any allies in Europe against those vile Frenchmen. And the best and most assured way to secure an alliance with another nation was through... marriage. Through her marriage, England and Germany would be united - well, hopefully. But suddenly, another thought struck her. Normally, in marriages such as this (or so Kate had told her), the husband would gain something from the wife. But she, Marion, had nothing to give. She had no lands, no title no... nothing. She was just a bastard girl. What good could a marriage with her do? However, despite all these thoughts racing around her mind, Marion's reaction to this surprising news was one that none expected. She threw her head back and laughed. She laughed until her face turned red, until her lungs screamed for air, and her chest felt as if was being squeezed by iron fists. Oh, but she had to laugh; the thought of the King ordering her to marry a foreign lord was just ridiculous! When at last she had calmed down somewhat, Marion managed to voice her thoughts.

"Me? Marry? Why?"

"I have just told you -"

"My Lord, I agree with my sister. Surely, this European lord will want a bride more suitable to the task of forming an alliance than Marion? A bride with lands, titles and - status?" Kate butted in.

Dickon shook his head. "Kate, I asked all that and more of my brother. But he was firm - it had to be Marion."

Marion sat on Kate's lap, stunned. She no longer struggled against the hold of her sister, merely falling limply like a discarded toy. She had never given much thought to her future - for, what future was there for a bastard girl? Mayhap she could have become a maid to a highborn lady; Lady Anne? It was a possibility, as Dickon's wife seemed to like her well enough, she could imagine being Lady Anne's handmaiden, she could also imagine herself as a servant – as she had been most of her young life - but married to a German lord? No, that did not seem right at all. She would have to move, leave all her family and beloved friends behind. And - Marion shuddered - she would be a lady herself. Oh no, that would not do. That would not do for her at all.

Suddenly, Marion was pulled from her thoughts by a voice, and a hand waving in front of her face. Coming back to reality, she saw Dickon gazing at her with worry.

"Marion? Marion? Did you hear me? I said we are to go to London for your betrothal, you are to be married next year before Martinmas. But I also wanted to go to Middleham, so you can meet my newest child. And -" here, he turned to Kate and Nan. " - I want to take Katheryn and John with me. So they may know their brother."

"No," Kate said quietly, but dangerously.

"Have you been struck dumb? With all due respect, my Lord, John is still a babe, and winter will soon be upon us! He could fall ill on the journey and... no. He can go when he is older, please, Richard."

Marion was shocked to see anger flash in her friend's eyes. "You think I cannot care for mine own children? How can you say no? I have taken one of my children to Middleham before - last spring, in fact. What causes you to be so foolish as to think that I will let anything happen to them? Do you think me a negligent father?"

Both women seemed stunned by this outburst, and bowed their heads in shame of their own anger.

"No, of course not my Lord, please forgive me..."

"Of course you are right, how could I be so foolish?"

"Thank you. Now, since that has been settled... Marion, pack whatever you have, and Kate and Nan, get the children ready. We leave on the morrow."

Marion sighed. Another argument. Why did it seem that every time Dickon came disaster soon followed? Or was it her own fault, was it she, Marion, who had always been there when disaster struck, that was the cause of it? She sighed again, resuming the singing of her legs over the edge of her chair.

She felt she would never know.