In the Wars of the Roses: A Story for the YoungEverett-Green, Evelyn
History
In the Wars of the Roses: A Story for the Young
Everett-Green, Evelyn
Great Britain -- History -- Wars of the Roses, 1455-1485 -- Juvenile fiction
Dismounting at last as he reached the outskirts of the crowd, and
turning his horse loose to find its own master if it could, Paul
was about to push his way into the eager knot of spectators, when a
hand was laid upon his arm; and turning suddenly, he found himself
confronted by a delicate page boy, whose white face and dilated
eyes seemed to bespeak the extreme of emotion and distress. Before
he had time to speak or to ask a question, the page addressed him;
and as soon as the voice smote upon his ears Paul started and
turned even paler than he had been; for he had heard those musical
tones before, and in the fair page before him he recognized, to his
horror and dismay, the gentle Lady Anne--young Edward's
bride--here, alone and unprotected, in the heart of the foe's camp.
She saw that she was recognized, and laid her hand upon her lips in
token of silence. Paul choked back the words that were upon his
tongue, and looked at her in mute amaze.
"I could not keep away," she whispered, "when they told me all was
lost and he had not returned. It was the only way. No one has
heeded me in the tumult and strife. I heard all. I heard he was
prisoner--that he was to be brought before Edward of York. Paul, I
knew that you would be near him. I knew, if living, I should find
you. See, they heed us not. They care not whether we be friends or
foes. Take me through the crowd; take me to him. I am safe with
you. Let us all die together."
Paul, utterly bewildered and astonished by this extraordinary
meeting, could only obey in silence. It was all like some hideous,
oppressive dream. Little by little he and his companion made their
way through the throng until they reached the line of armed
sentries who kept their stations outside the royal tent. Here they
would have had to pause, had not Paul made a step forward and said
boldly:
"I am the servant squire of the prisoner, and I claim the right to
stand at his side and share his fate, whatever it may be. Let me
and this lad, I pray you, go to him. We desire nothing better than
to lay down our lives with him."
The sentries eyed the pair doubtfully. Their unarmed condition and
Paul's visibly battered state told that these were no dangerous
conspirators; and devotion to a lost cause always stirs the
generous feelings of brave men. It may, however, be doubted whether
the pair would have gained their wish had it not been for the fact
that at this moment Edward himself appeared, disarmed, but
otherwise treated with due honour and courtesy, attended by his
captor, who was leading him to the king's tent in obedience to a
summons just received.
The moment that she saw her betrothed husband, no power on earth
would have been strong enough to hold back the fair-faced page,
under whose boyish dress a faithful woman's heart was beating. The
disguised maiden sprang forward and sank at the feet of her
supposed master, seizing his hand and covering it with kisses as
she tenderly murmured his name.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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