Chapter Six
The following morning, Meg was ready to get back to the business of living and so hardening her heart, she headed to her lab and continued her work on a fuse, because the gunpowder she had made was all but useless without it.
She made a few different mixes of gun powder, some more and some less explosive, then added water to it and soaked cotton twine with the paste. Once dried in the sunlight, she would see which mixture burned best, as in continuously, at a steady pace but not too fast, thus allowing the person who lit it time to run.
She wasn't surprised when Hal came to find her that afternoon, although she was hurt that he hadn't come sooner.
She kept her back to him, focusing on the task at hand, laying the fuse twine out in consecutive rows to dry in the sun.
"I received thy letter," he said in that temptingly rich voice of his.
"Good."
"Do you really wish to leave me, fair Meg?"
"No."
"Then I beg thee, do not go."
She didn't reply
"This is a marriage of convenience, a political tool, nothing more. It does not affect my regard for you."
"It doesn't matter why, Hal, I only know that I am no one's mistress."
"But I am a king, there is no shame in it."
"Put yourself in my place. Imagine that you were outnumbered in battle and the only way to ensure you could retreat, was for me to marry the prince of France. It would only be a marriage of convenience though, made to ensure you lived, but could you stand to see me marry him? To know that I shared his bed on the night's when I didn't share yours? Or would it break your heart?"
"It's different for men, men have to know that they fathered any children resulting from a union."
She turned to him, her anger flaring. "You're a man and can get away with it? Why? Because you don't have to face the consequences? Bullshit!" Her voice cracked and she took a moment to compose herself.
"You know that bible you love so much and use to judge me, Well I've read it, we had to study it in school, and I know it doesn't make exceptions for men or kings, adultery is always wrong and if you do this, then you are a hypocrite and not the pious man you claim to be. You say God brought me to you, yet you intend to break his one of his commandments in regards to me. What excuse do you use to justify that, Hal?"
"This marriage is necessary to reclaim what is ours. Even my father was in talks to bring this about, before he died."
"So what, you're honouring his wishes?"
"I suppose."
"Well my mother and father raised me to believe in and respect myself. I do love you, Hal, but I love myself as well, far too much to let you do this to me."
Hal didn't reply, he just looked at her, his eyes pleading.
"You didn't answer my question, Hal, could you live with it if our situations were reversed?"
Hal looked down but didn't reply.
"When can I leave for London?" Meg asked, turning back to her work.
"Meg-"
"I won't be swayed, Hal, and I know you well enough to know that you won't either. One way or another, I'm going home."
"I could have the chair destroyed."
She tuned and glared at him. "I'll still leave you. The only way you can keep me here is to imprison me and even if you do, I will fight you with my dying breath. I don't belong to you, Hal, and I will not be owned my any man, not even a king."
She turned back to her fuses and after a few long moments, he stepped closer.
"What art thou working on?" he asked, his voice warm once more.
"Fuses," she answered in a dull tone.
"Fuses?"
"I've been making gun powder to use in your battle against France."
"Thou seems certain that it will come to war."
She didn't bother to reply.
"How dost this gun powder work?"
Meg tipped a little of the gun powder onto a tile, then touched a candle to it. Hal stepped back as the mixture ignited, but it was just a small amount and not enough to do any damage.
"This is the black powder we use in cannons. How does this help?"
"More of this, contained in a vessel of some description, will create an explosion. It can be used to knock structures down, or with metal mixed in with the powder, to injure or kill men."
As she said those words, she realised that she was creating something to kill. She had known it would of course, but it had been an abstract concept until now. Even if she wasn't the one lighting the fuse, the blood would be on her hands. She could live with that however, as long as Hal lived too.
"Thou spoke of my son the other night."
"What do you want to know?" she asked.
"You implied that he lost France."
"He did. He was a weak king and when the Yorks challenged the Lancasters, your house lost."
"How can I change that?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "But it hardly matters, the whole Plantagenet line died out in the War of the Roses, the Tudors ruled after that, then the house of Stuart took over, then they were overthrown in the civil wars and eventually invited back as constitutional monarchs only. After that we had the Houses of Orange, Hanover and Saxe-Coburg. Trust me, Hal, just as nature abhors a vacuum, someone will always be there to step in, the country will go on, regardless."
"Yet you still do all this that we might succeed in our battle with France."
"No, Hal. I do all this because even though you're a bastard, I love you and I can't stand the thought that you might die."
"I am sorry, Meg."
"You're sorry you can't have your cake and eat it too, you're not sorry for hurting me, or being a hypocrite and viewing me as promiscuous, or turning me into a mistress. You're sorry that I won't stand for it, and that's all."
"I'm not. If there were any other way, I would take it."
"There is another way, you just don't want to take it."
Silence reigned for a few moments.
"I will take thee back to the abbey, Meg, but I ask that thou allow me a few days. I am expecting the emissary we sent to France to return and he expects to come here. It should be another week, no more"
"That's fine," she said. "I need to test the bombs and grenades I make anyway. Do you have any lead pipe and metal fragments?"
"Pipes?"
"For a pipe bomb."
"A pipe bomb?"
"Rather than just repeating what I say, answer my question and soon, you'll see for yourself what it is."
"What thickness?"
"I don't know, an inch, inch and a half maybe. Different diameters and thicknesses might be good, so I can test which works best. I'll also need a hammer and a saw."
"And how much of this piping will thou need?"
"As much as you can get. I'll need a lot more sulphur, charcoal, and saltpetre too. As much as you can get your hands on."
"How much?"
"Let's say 50lbs of each, what I don't use, I'll leave instructions so someone else can. Trust me, my Lord, this will greatly aid your war effort."
When Hal had lead piping delivered to her, she began making her grenades. She had spent the last two days perfecting the fuses and now had one which burned at one inch per three seconds, meaning that the timing the explosion could be based on the length of the fuse.
She sawed the lead pipe into 14 inch long sections, hammered one end flat, then bent it back on itself and hammered it flat again, before she made it waterproof by sealing the end with wax. She filled the pipes with her most volatile gunpowder recipe and pieces of shrapnel, then she hammered the other end closed, also sealing it with candle wax. Using a small metal spike, she hammered a tiny hole into the pipe for the fuse, which she also then sealed with candle wax around the twine.
With a dozen made, she changed into men's clothing so that she could run more easily, tied her hair back but she left the hat off. Then sought out Hal, who she was informed was in the library.
"I need to borrow a shield, my Lord," she had taken to addressing him formally, even when they were alone, trying to distance herself from him.
"Pardon?" he turned to her, his expression as near to anger as she had ever seen.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"The Dauphin sent an ambassador to reply to our message, with a ton of treasure."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"It was a ton of tennis balls."
"Oh yeah. I forgot that." She smiled.
"Thou enjoys his mockery?" Hal demanded.
"Well, to be fair, I didn't know you when I first heard that story."
Hal muttered a curse and turned away. "What does thou need a shield for?"
"The pipe bombs are ready. If you have two shields, you might enjoy this too, given your mood."
Which was how they found themselves out in the forest, Meg carrying her pipes, a candle lantern (which protected the candle from the elements) and a trowel and Hal carrying the shields, a piece of paper secured to a wooden board with a few drops of wax (Meg's idea of a clipboard) and some charcoal.
She stopped by a fairly large tree and put all but one pipe down. Then taking one pipe and the lantern thirty paces away, she placed the pipe on the ground. Hal left his things by the same tree and followed her.
"When I light this, run back to the tree and shelter behind it and your shield. We'll have twenty seconds to get away," she advised, opening the lantern. "Ready?"
He nodded that he was and she touched the end of the wick to the candle and as the fuse sparked, she dropped it, closed the lantern and ran, counting 'one-one thousand, two-one thousand' in her head.
They reached the tree with easily five seconds to spare and both stood, peering around the trunk, shields at the ready to protect their faces.
The blast wasn't as large as she expected but she was thrilled to have succeeded, and Hal looked wondrous.
"Yes!" she called and without thought, she threw her arms around him and hugged him. "Yes yes yes!"
It turned out that as well as anger, explosives are also very good for a broken heart. She hadn't felt this happy since before she first heard about Catherine.
A moment later, she realised that she was supposed to be keeping her distance from him and awkwardly disengaged herself. The smile on Hal's face was almost enough to break her resolve, but not quite. To cover her embarrassed blush, she turned away and headed to the blast area to see how much damage it had caused.
"What was that?" Hal asked.
"A pipe bomb," she answered as they walked around, seeing what damage had been done.
Hal wandered around the trees. "Look at the damage to the bark!" he exclaimed, "Why this would tear through men like a hot knife through butter. Far more effective than any cannon."
"It is," she assured him, trying not to think of the men who might be harmed. "It can also be used to bring structures down. In a minute we'll find a tree and bury a pipe at the base, and we'll see how much damage they can do. For now, find the furthest tree that has damaged bark, that'll let us know the blast radius."
Once they had found the tree, she walked heel to toe from the bomb site to the tree, then recorded the distance in the charcoal on the 'clipboard'. She couldn't believe that pencils hadnt been invented yet.
"We have three widths of pipe, so we'll try the one and a half inch next, see if that has more power."
After all three were tested, they buried all but the top of the bomb at the base of a tree, lit the fuse and ran again. It didn't fell the tree, but it did seriously damage it.
"How does this work?" he asked as they examined the damage, and she did her best to explain an explosion.
"When the gunpowder ignites, it causes a rapid heating and expansion. In a confined space, such as trapped in a pipe, the pressure builds until it bursts the casing, forcing everything out and turning the pipe itself and the bits of metal inside into projectiles."
"And this even works on stone?"
"It takes far more to blow stone up than a man, but yes, with enough explosives, you can reduce anything to rubble. Your canons might be better for that though, I don't know, I'd have to test both then compare and contrast. These are a lot easier to carry around than a canon though. Now let's test how good a grenade they make," she said. "How's your throwing arm?"
"I have a reasonable measure in strength," he answered.
"Good." She handed him a pipe and lit the fuse. She has tested the fuses, waving them around while lit to be sure that they wouldn't go out in the wind, but there was nothing like a field test.
Hal threw it and it performed well, exploding where it landed.
"All the pipes have a twenty second fuse," she explained, "But it might be worth shortening that in battle, you don't want to give the opposition time to throw it back."
Once they had used all the pipes she had made thus far, they returned to the house, but Hal looked troubled.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"This will surely give furtherance to our expedition but these 'bombs', while effective, are hardly honourable. A gentleman fights hand to hand, with a sword."
"But you have archers, don't you?"
"We do."
"They fire over distance, so throw the bombs where you aim the arrows."
He nodded, seemingly accepting her argument.
"And even if you choose not to use them on the battle field, you can use them on fortifications, castles, town walls, that sort of thing."
"Thou has truly given England a gift with this, Meg."
She thought it was rather a poisoned chalice, but it would help win the war, no doubt.
"You have my thanks."
"I only want you to keep your word, my Lord," she reminded him, as if frightened that he wouldn't help her get back inside the abbey.
"And who will make these bombs once thou hast gone?"
"I'll leave instructions. And if you have someone who can read and write, I'll teach them in person before we leave for London."
"I shall find such a man," he assured her.
"It doesn't have to be a man," she reminded him. "And you have to be careful with this stuff, keep it dry and away from heat sources. If they blows up in your camp, it'll be your men torn shreds."
"All necessary precautions shall be taken."
The servants were all of a flutter back at the Pleasance, having heard the bangs and become afraid. Men had even been sent across the mere to retrieve guards from the Castle.
"Calm yourselves, 'tis but an experiment," Hal assured them. "Our Lady Meg has turned the tide of this war before it has begun."
He placed an arm around her shoulders, which made Meg rather uncomfortable, but only because she enjoyed it being there.
"How many of these can thou make?" Hal asked as they headed inside.
"As many as I have pipe, twine and chemicals for," she answered. "I'll make some in different sizes, longer or wider pipes have more power, which would be good for blowing up walls, while shorter pipes might be better for grenades, the ones you throw."
"Tis a good plan, my dear."
"I'm not your dear, My Lord, not any more." As hard as it was, she slipped out from under his arm. "When do we leave for London?"
"In three days."
"Then I'll make as much as I can before then." She made her way inside.
As they journeyed to London, Meg found herself backtracking, trying to talk herself into staying, convincing herself that she could be a mistress, and be happy.
Leaving him would be the hardest thing she had ever done, and she really didn't want to.
But in her heart of hearts, she knew that she couldn't. Watching him sleep with someone else, raise a family with her and attend public events with her, while Meg was relegated to some dirty little secret, would kill her. She owed it to herself to move on and try to find someone who loved her as she deserved.
That didn't mean that leaving wasn't going to break her too, but the pain would be singular and she would recover from it. If she stayed, her heart would receive a daily battering and never have a chance to recover.
They arrived at Westminster Palace in the evening and after their horses were taken from them, they headed towards the Painted Room, the King's quarters.
"When do you want to do this?" Hal asked.
"Tonight would be nice but it's probably better if I go in the morning. I can ride out, make some excuse about going to stay with a friend, then no one will know I've gone missing."
"If you think that is best."
"I do," she replied, her voice thick with emotion. "I'll ride out alone and change into boy's clothes in the Hog's Head, then you can meet me at the Abbey later."
"As you wish," he agreed.
Meg turned to him but hesitated a moment before speaking, still arguing with herself.
"Will… will you stay with me tonight?" she asked.
"I thought thou was avoiding me?"
"I was." Her eyes began to sting with tears and it took a moment before she could speak again. "But after tomorrow I won't see you again, so I want to make some final memories to take with me."
"Art thou sure?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Then of course I will stay with thee."
Hal came to her room that evening, as she wanted, and he stepped closer to her and raised a hand to cup her cheek.
"I shall miss you, my dear."
"Me too," she said. "But no more talk of that tonight, I just want to enjoy you."
He smiled and bent his head to kiss her.
The first time they made love was tender and loving but their second coupling had more desperation and as she came, tears began to leak from her eyes.
Still inside her, Hal leaned down and kissed their tracks.
"Don't leave me," he implored.
"I have to," she said her voice cracked with sorrow.
"What can I do to change your mind?"
"You already know," she told him.
"I wish that I could agree to your terms."
"Me too."
Meg walked along beside Hal as he strode through the Abbey, his request that he be allowed to sit on the coronation throne while he prayed for guidance having not been questioned by the monks.
Meg wished she could have worn the clothes she arrived in but in the company of a prince or not, she wouldn't have been let into the abbey wearing a dress, she was sure.
The room where the throne was kept was empty of people and Meg felt a surge of emotions as she gazed upon the object that had brought her here.
"I was thinking about my ex," she said aloud.
"Thy 'ex'?"
"Former paramour," she explained. "I didn't wish for him back but I did want someone new to love, someone who could love me as I deserved."
She began to cry.
"You think it brought you to your true love?" he asked.
"I don't know. I don't really know anything."
She turned to him and stretched up to kiss him. It was meant to be sweet but as he pulled her against him and deepened the kiss, it turned passionate. When he finally released her, she was breathless.
"I love you," she whispered.
"And I thee."
Her hands went to his cheeks, her thumbs caressing his face and she smiled through her tears.
"Stay, Meg. Stay with me."
"I wish I could."
"You can."
"I deserve more than you can give me, and you know it."
"Please."
"No." The word came out as a sob but no matter how painful, she was resolute.
He dropped his arms from around her as she stepped back and pulled her hat off, handing it back to him.
"Thanks for the loan."
"Twas my pleasure."
She tightened her grip on her handbag as she approached the chair that had started this whole mess, and turned to face him.
"Be happy, Hal."
"And thee."
Her tears were falling so fast that she could hardly see him as she sat down.
"Goodbye, Hal."
She sat there for a few moments and grew terrified that it wasn't working, then Hal began to fade from her blurred vision and just before he disappeared, she heard him gasp and call her name, although it was but a whisper to her ear.
Hal stood and stared at the chair in shock.
He hadn't believed her, not really. Her tale, while backed up by some very odd items, had simply been too outrageous to believe.
It was Aristotle who said, 'there is no great genius without a mixture of madness' and given her miraculous healing of him, he presumed her to have a measure of madness, which allowed her to accomplish seemingly astonishing feats.
Which is why he hadn't truly believed that she would leave him. Run away perhaps, but not… not disappear as if she had never existed.
She truly had been a gift from God and for abusing her, God had taken her back.
Hal fell to his knees and clasped his hands together. "Oh dear Lord, what have I done?" he prayed.