Chapter Fifteen #2
Gaston’s manner had gone from calm to passionate in a matter of seconds.
Though they had never discussed the incident of the young princes, Edward and Richard, Matthew knew how Gaston had felt about it.
It had been the ultimate act of loyalty to Richard and Matthew knew that Gaston had always hated the king for it.
Murdering the father for his throne was one thing.
Murdering helpless boys was quite another.
“I recall,” Matthew responded steadily.
“You were not there.”
“I was at Wellesbourne at the time, else I would have been just as guilty as you.”
Gaston nodded his head as if convinced. “With all of Richard’s petty squabbles and paranoid commands, I was there to carry them out.
Never did I question, never did I refuse.
I convinced myself that I was serving the last of the Plantagenet line, just as you were.
We were both convinced that we were preserving a royal legacy.
But I have recently been the recipient of a raw and devastating revelation, something so catastrophic that it would cause me to question my entire existence.
” He moved closer to Matthew now, his dark face intense.
“The murder of a king could not convince me. The murder of the sons could not convince me. But something else has.”
“What could that possibly be?”
Gaston met his gaze a moment longer before looking away. He turned back in the direction of the battle, now gaining in intensity. “Do you recollect that I mentioned my wife keeping a lover in London?”
Matthew’s mind was brittle; he had not the patience or energy to follow opposing trains of thought. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Do you recall?”
“I do.”
Gaston turned to him, then, his face a mask of barely contained emotion. “It was Richard.”
Matthew did not react at first. Then, his eyebrows lifted as if to stretch out his entire face. “The king?”
“Aye,” Gaston said softly. “And do you know what our king said to me when I confronted him?”
Matthew could only shake his head and Gaston continued.
“He told me that it was none of my concern. He further told me that if I should choose to protest the affair, he could not guarantee the safety of my son and would see to it that The White Lord took care of the boy. You see, he is convinced that your loyalty to him supersedes our friendship and the bounds of common decency. He is convinced that you would harm my son to punish me if he gave the order. To spare you that horrible choice, I have ended my fealty to Richard, sent my wife and son to my holdings in France, and sworn my oath to Henry Tudor.”
Matthew’s mouth was a tight line of astonishment and outrage.
He had known Gaston for twenty years; the man had never lied to him, not once.
Word from Gaston was as good as word from God.
He must have stopped breathing because when he finally drew in a breath, it was loud and ragged. His chest hurt.
“I have never heard anything more contemptible in my life,” he breathed. “Are you sure, Gaston? There could be no mistake?”
“None.”
“So when you went to find the Stanley brothers to make sure their loyalty to Richard remained true, in reality, you were going to join them and Henry Tudor.”
“Correct.”
“Why did you not tell me this before now?”
Gaston shrugged. “I am not sure,” he said. “Pride, perhaps. Confusion, I do not know. Perhaps I was afraid that you would not believe me.”
“When have I ever doubted you?” Matthew fired back softly. “No matter what you say or what you have done, you have not ended our friendship. It is still there, stronger than ever. And no matter if the king ordered me to harm Trenton, I would not do it.”
“Even at the expense of your fealty to Richard?”
“Even so. I would go to the executioner before I harmed your son.”
Gaston knew that. He nodded his head, weakly, struggling against the fatigue and despair that threatened. “Even if you would not, others would.”
“I would kill them all.”
Gaston reached out, slapping a massive hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “I know, my friend,” he assured him quietly. “But what of your family, your wife and father and brothers? Do you have any idea how this would affect them?”
“They would understand. And we would adjust.”
“Then I tell you now,” Gaston looked pointedly at him, “that the man we have sworn to serve is not worthy of your loyalty.”
“And Tudor is?”
“The lesser of the evils.”
A gleam came to Matthew’s eye. “Did you summon me to convince me to switch my allegiance?”
“Nay. I summoned you to tell you of mine.”
“And how did you expect that I would react?”
Gaston lifted his big shoulders. “I do not know. Kill me, perhaps.”
Matthew hissed in disgust. “I would sooner throw myself on my own sword,” he said.
But his blue eyes were fixed on Gaston, almost painfully.
“What I cannot seem to understand is why you did not tell me any of this sooner. I always thought you and I were closer than brothers, no secrets between us. I guess I was wrong.”
Gaston had been experiencing guilt over that same thought. But it was more than that. “Perhaps my deepest shame was something to be kept to myself. It was not meant as a betrayal to our friendship.”
Matthew was hurt, bewildered and grieved all at the same time. He would have never expected this from someone he had known most of his life, someone who thought exactly as he did. Or so he believed.
“Surely Tudor must know the reasons for your new loyalty,” he said.
Gaston braced his legs slightly apart and crossed his massive arms, his traditional and favorite stance. “Not strangely, when I found the Stanley brothers, they had an offer for me straight from Henry’s mouth. It gave me the opportunity to use it as an excuse for my change in fealty.”
“What is the offer?”
“Yorkshire should Tudor emerge the victor. And there is an offer for you, too.”
Matthew was torn, not wanting to hear it, wanting to hear it. “What is that?”
“Herefordshire and the Southern Marches.”
Matthew inhaled a long, deep breath. It was an endeavor to steady himself but it wasn’t working.
Gazing into the smoky eyes of his closest friend, his mind was sorting through many a thought; Alixandrea, Wellesbourne, Richard, the future, and Henry Tudor.
He found himself asking a question that would have only come from his heart and not his head.
“What is your opinion on the outcome of this battle?”
Gaston glanced to the north, where a black line of soldiers await in the distance. “Henry’s forces outnumber Richard’s. He has the strength of Northumberland.”
Matthew blanched. “Northumberland is riding to meet Richard.”
“No, he is not.”
“And you knew this?”
“Only a few days ago, from Thomas Stanley. Northumberland sides with Tudor now.”
That betrayal alone cost Richard over a thousand supporting troops. Matthew could see what was happening. They were all turning, for various reasons or perhaps none at all. Richard’s support was crumbling. He sighed deeply.
“I am sure Northumberland has his reasons,” he said. “As do you. I do not dispute them. But I have no such reasons. My oath is my bond and once given, cannot be retracted. I must do as I pledged. I must protect the king.”
Gaston had known what his answer would be the moment he saw him approach from Richard’s lines. Matthew Wellesbourne was a man of his word. It was a bitterly sad moment, friend with friend, not warrior against warrior.
“Is there nothing I can say that would convince you to join me?”
“Would that I could, my friend. Yet honor holds me bound.”
“But you are outnumbered, Matt,” Gaston sounded very much as if he were pleading. “This cannot go well in Richard’s favor. I do not want to see your end.”
“Nor do I,” Matthew said. “But I must do as I must.”
A heavy silence fell as both men pondered their immediate future. “I would ask you a question, then.”
“Ask.”
“If Richard had set sights on your wife, what would you have done?”
Matthew snorted. “You are far better in control of yourself than I would have been. I would have killed him.”
Gaston took a step closer to him and lowered his voice.
“Then know that he did set his sights on her when you first brought her to The Tower those weeks ago,” he rumbled.
“He had been watching the gates from his chamber as he so often does and saw her when she disembarked her carriage. Twice he sent me to retrieve her while you were occupied in war council. When I refused, he sought out Mari-Elle instead. You must understand that Richard’s lust for Alixandrea precipitated this chain of events.
He bedded my wife to punish me for refusing to bring him yours.
Though you are a man of honor, Matt, you are bound to a man that has none.
He would have taken your wife and threatened you when you resisted, as he did me.
Now, are you still as loyal to our king as you were only a moment ago? ”
Matthew was embroiled in perhaps the greatest internal struggle he had ever known.
Never did he doubt Gaston’s word. Now it was a matter of pride for him, too.
But it was more than that. Alixandrea had been at stake and Gaston had done something completely unselfish to protect her, which had worked horribly against him.
Gaston had sacrificed himself to save Matthew’s life and happiness.
Perhaps there were times when true friendship and the safety of one’s family meant more than the breaking of a bond.
Perhaps it was Matthew’s turn to sacrifice something for Gaston, perhaps for all of the wrong reasons, but reasons nonetheless. I must do as I must….
“My wife means more to me than anything in this world,” Matthew said, his voice choked with emotion. “If what you say is true, and I have no reason to doubt that it is, then in spite of my loyalty to Richard, he has none to me. This I cannot abide.”
Gaston almost collapsed in relief. He closed his eyes, lowering his head in a small prayer of thanks.
“Then you shall join us?” he asked softly.
Matthew sucked in a long breath. “This is not about Herefordshire and the Southern Marches. This is not about believing in Henry over Richard. This is not even about England. This is about you, a man who would destroy his life and reputation to save mine. This is all about my wife and the lengths I will go to for her protection. What I do, Gaston, I do for you, and no one else. You have saved her, in more ways than one. Let me repay the debt.”
“What will you tell your brothers?”
“The truth. And that they shall gain holdings in Herefordshire and the Southern Marches when this is over.”
It was done. Without another word, Matthew re-latched his helm, mounted his charger, and rode off towards the battle in the distant field.
The sun was rising steadily now, casting pale golden light on the green fields.
Gaston watched Matthew for a moment before motioning to one of his men, hovering a good distance away.
Patrick’s familiar shape came riding upon him.
“Did he understand?”
“He did.”
“Did he accept?”
“He did. Spread the word; as soon as we see Henry’s standard approach, we move.”
Patrick was gone. Gaston lingered a moment longer on the turn of events before mounting his charger and following.
It would prove to be the longest, bloodiest day of his life.