In the Wars of the Roses: A Story for the Young — John Shaqi
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
"And you must stay with her," said the prince with decision; "at
least so long as you are a child. When you are a grown man it will
be different. Some day I will send for you, and you shall be my
first and best friend; but it cannot be now. My mother might not
approve my choice, and yours might not let you go. Princes as well
as other men have to wait for what they want"--and the child
sighed--"but some day our turn will come."
Then they resumed their play, and the hoary wood resounded to the
merry shouts of the boys as they ran hither and thither in active
sport, till the little prince was fairly tired out, though, still
exulting in his escape from maternal vigilance, he stoutly
protested against going back.
"See, good Paul," he said, "here is a right commodious hollow tree,
heaped with last year's dead leaves. I will rest awhile hidden away
here, where none will find me were they to look for me ever so. And
if you could find and bring me here a draught of water from the
brook or from some spring, I should be ever grateful. I am sore
athirst and weary, too."
The child was nevertheless much pleased with his nest, and
forthwith curled himself up in it like a young dormouse, delighting
in the conviction that no attendants despatched by his mother to
capture him would ever find him here. Boys have been young pickles
ever since the world began, and were just as full of pranks in the
fifteenth century as they are now. Edward had: a full share of
boyhood's mischievous delight in his own way, and owing to the
strong will and the ever-present vigilance of his mother, he had
not had many chances of indulging his natural craving for
independence. Therefore he rejoiced the more in it now, and was
quite determined to return to his royal parents at such time only
as it suited his own whim.
Paul was willing enough to do the behest of the prince, and stayed
only to make him comfortable before starting off on the quest for
water. He thought young Edward would soon be asleep, as indeed he
was, so luxurious was his leafy couch within the giant oak; and
resolved to run as far as a certain well he knew of in the wood,
the water of which was peculiarly fresh and cold and clear, and
where a cup was always kept by the brothers of a neighbouring
monastery for the benefit of weary travellers.
Paul sped away on his mission with a light heart He was elated
above measure by his day's adventure, and his head was brimming
over with plans and dreams of the future, which was to be so
glorious and so distinguished.
He the chosen comrade of their future king! he the loyal upholder
of that king's rights, the bulwark of the throne, the trusted
noble, the shrewd counsellor, the valiant warrior! A boy's ambition
is boundless--innocent of envy or evil, but wild in its flights.
Paul went on his way with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, till a
stealthy sound in the bushes beside him made him stop short,
listening intently. He heard voices in cautious whisper.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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