Between Two Kings (4 page)

“My son, my dear son,” Anne said lovingly. She placed another soft kiss on her son’s forehead.

Lady Eleanor Hampton approached Anne’s bed. She was Anne’s favorite lady among all of the women who served the disgraced former queen in the past months. Even Lady Anne Shelton, whom Anne had always considered to be the most loyal lady-in-waiting to her, wasn’t as caring as Lady Eleanor.

“My lady, how will you name the child?” Eleanor inquired.

As Anne heard that, a myriad of thoughts whirled in her mind. She knew that Henry would love to call the child Edward, but she didn’t like that name. Moreover, she didn’t want to name her child so because Henry had betrayed her and hadn’t shown any care for their child. She wanted to name the baby in the honor of her deceased brother George, but it was too risky as somebody could perceive it as a hint to the child’s ill parentage. Anne loved many French male names, but it was undesirable to give her child with Henry a foreign name.

Suddenly, Anne felt a vehement rage running through her veins. She bent her head down to prevent Lady Eleanor from seeing that her blue eyes were dancing with unequivocal anger and rage. Then a thought popped into her head that if Prince Arthur Tudor, Henry’s elder brother, hadn’t died, he would have been the King of England and Henry would most likely have entered the church, as it had been initially planned for Henry by King Henry VII and Lady Margaret Beaufort. If it had happened, Anne would have never fallen in love with Henry and her life wouldn’t have been ruined. Anne decided that she would name her son Arthur. She smiled as she imagined Henry’s reaction to his son’s name.

Besides, there was also the legendary King Arthur from the ancient times, and Anne had always been fascinated with his personality. Anne’s child was now considered a bastard after the annulment of her marriage to King Henry. King Arthur was the illegitimate son of King Uther Pendragon and a woman named Igraine; despite his illegitimacy, Arthur was a legendary British leader of the late 5
th
and early 6
th
centuries who led the defense of the British land against the Saxon invaders. King Arthur was great; maybe Anne’s son would also have a great fate, despite the child’s very bleak future as he was viewed not only as a bastard, but also as a child of two traitors.

Anne’s smile became wider as she made her decision. Arthur was a fine name for her baby boy. It suited him. Perhaps, it would also remind Henry of something.

Anne raised her head and glared at Lady Eleanor. “Arthur,” she responded firmly.

“Arthur?” Lady Eleanor asked.

Anne nodded slightly. “Arthur,” she confirmed.

“My lady, I will have to take the child to your sister, Lady Mary Stafford, tomorrow.”

Anne shuddered. She didn’t want to leave her son so quickly, knowing that she would never see him again. She could hardly speak for fatigue and emotion and could barely repress her tears. “Why so soon? Why?” she whispered, pressing her son to her chest with trembling hands.

“I am sorry, but surely you understand that the newborn child cannot be held at the Tower.”

“Probably, I can hold him for at least one more day,” Anne suggested.

At the same time, Lady Mary Kingston approached Anne’s bed. “No, my lady, I am very sorry. Master Cromwell gave us strict instructions, and we must follow them,” she explained.

Lady Eleanor granted an apologetic, compassionate glance to Anne. “I am sorry, Lady Anne.”

“I see,” Anne muttered grievously.

“Don’t worry. I will deliver the child in safety to your sister’s household,” Lady Eleanor said.

Anne’s little son Arthur was like an unexpected gift from heaven for Anne, but even this gift was unable to save his mother. Monstrous tides of pain and heartache slashed through her as Anne grasped that she would lose her son, her precious and long-awaited child, almost immediately after his birth. At that thought her mind went blank and unbearable pain smote her; her heart was bleeding. Henry was being so cruel to Anne, and she still couldn’t believe how it was possible.

William Kingston came to the queen’s chambers in the later evening. His expression was solemn and taciturn. “Madame, your execution will happen as soon as you recover, which will happen in around ten days, according to the midwife,” he informed her.

Anne raised her eyebrows. “Master Kingston, do you have any news from the king?” She still dared to harbor some hope that Henry would spare her life. Perhaps, he would send her to a nunnery or place her under house arrest for the rest of her life. In that case, she would probably be able to dream of meeting her children at least once in her life.

Kingston shook his head. “No, Madame. Master Cromwell will report to His Majesty the King about your situation tomorrow.”

“I must thank you for letting me know,” Anne replied in a low voice.

“You are welcome, Madame.”

At that moment, Anne was completely convinced that Henry would never spare her, especially if he talked to Thomas Cromwell tomorrow. She was sure that even if the king had hesitated to some extent in relation to how to proceed to the situation with Anne, Thomas Cromwell would do his best to accelerate her execution. Moreover, Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, would also be against further delay of her execution. Anne had many enemies and no defenders; she was abandoned by everybody, except her sister Mary. She would die soon; she had to resign to her death and accept the reality that she would never see how her children would grow up.

CHAPTER 3

November 1536, Hever Castle, Kent, England

Two people stood in the shadow of an old tall oak. It was rather dark around them because the cold autumn sun hadn’t risen yet in those early morning hours. There were only absolute stillness and shadowy semidarkness around the two men; they talked for a long time, completely unconcerned by the cold and chilly wind.

Their appearance suggested that they were nobles. The young gentleman was dressed dramatically, only in black, wearing a black brocade doublet featuring tie-in sleeves, black straight pants, a black silk shirt with high lace collar, and a black velvet flat cap with a large black ostrich plume. The older gentleman wore the same colors. It looked as though both men had been in deep mourning.

They were Thomas Boleyn, the Earl of Wiltshire and the Earl of Ormond, and Henry Percy, the Earl of Northumberland. Henry Percy had left London for the Hever Castle right after he had learnt that Anne had given birth to a boy. He had ridden, for many hours, almost half of the night, to have a secret meeting with Thomas Boleyn.

Thomas Boleyn glanced at Henry Percy. “Fate works in mysterious ways. Anne has given King Henry a son, but he doesn’t wish even to hear her name.” Regret crept into his voice.

“Lord Wiltshire, the king doesn’t believe that the boy is his child,” Henry Percy admitted.

Boleyn sighed heavily. “I fear we won’t be able to persuade the king that the boy is his.”

Percy waited a moment, reflective. Then he smiled glumly. “King Henry will talk neither to you, Sir Thomas, nor to your daughter, Lady Mary Stafford, who has already tried to touch a sensitive string in the king’s heart. It is no use to talk to him.”

Softness filled Boleyn’s heart as he remembered his daughter Mary. “My Mary is a brave girl. I was amazed that she decided to persuade the king to save Anne. It was a bold and risky step even to come to the court.”

Henry Percy smiled. “Your eldest daughter has always been a kind-hearted woman.”

Boleyn felt as though the harsh reality had strangled him. Everything in combination – the execution of his son George, Anne’s imprisonment, and Mary’s refusal to talk to him – resulted in a feeling of monstrous guilt, which was almost breaking the old man’s heart. He knew that his ambitions had led his children to their miserable fates. He was sick with guilt and self-disdain, although he had never acknowledged that to anybody, not even to his wife. He was too proud to admit to someone else that his games and his gambling for power and wealth had been the catalyst for the downfall of his own family and for many other tragedies.

Thomas knew that he was guilty before Anne, despite his role in her salvation. He was also guilty that his son George, his only surviving heir, had died at the orders of King Henry. He couldn’t have saved George. Moreover, he even helped to condemn his son because he didn’t speak in Anne and George’s defense after he had been arrested and thrown into the dungeon at the Tower of London.

When he was interrogated, Thomas Boleyn made no attempt to defend his daughter and his son. He didn’t argue that Anne was innocent and that she would never have dreamed of betraying King Henry because she loved him and because it would have been foolish from her side. He betrayed his daughter and left her to her fate. Those abominable thoughts whirled in his mind night after night in the dungeon fearing for his own life.

Thomas Boleyn knew that if he had spoken in Anne’s defense, it would have been the end of his life. However, his life had turned out to be miserable anyway. He had lost everything he had achieved after all the years of hard scheming to put first Mary into the king’s bed and then Anne on the throne of England. Thomas didn’t plan to die on the scaffold. He was convinced that if he had tried to argue that Anne and George were innocent against all the fabricated charges, he would have been charged as Anne’s accomplice, accused of helping Anne to take lovers and to conceal the fact of her infidelities by helping her lovers leave her chambers undetected. He decided that the only way to save his own life was to turn against Anne and to help condemn her and others to their death on the scaffold. He hoped it would be enough for Thomas Cromwell and King Henry to release him from the Tower and simply send him into exile. He even told Cromwell during the interrogation that there should have been only one punishment for Anne’s awful adultery – death. He suspected that even Cromwell had been surprised by his words.

Only after he had been released from the Tower and George Boleyn had been executed, Thomas Boleyn regained his conscience and felt a feeling of frantic guilt that stabbed him right into his heart. He would never forget his wife Lady Elizabeth’s face when he came back to the Hever Castle from London in complete disgrace.

Thomas Boleyn’s wife accused him of murdering their own children and of abandoning them in the last minutes of their life. Lady Elizabeth screamed and cursed him; hysteria overcame her, and she fell on the floor in the hall of the castle, sobbing uncontrollably and whimpering in heartbreak. Thomas still remembered how he stepped to her, but she moved away on the floor, cursing him and accusing him of all mortal sins. She screamed that she wished to see him dead instead of her dear son George and her beloved Anne. She told him that he was a monster who had no right to live after what he had done to his children.

For many days, Lady Elizabeth wouldn’t speak to her husband, making him sleep in another bedroom and spending all the time in her chamber. She didn’t respond to Thomas’ questions and was silent for hours, not speaking even to her servants and personal maid.

Then Thomas and Elizabeth learnt that Anne’s execution had been rescheduled because she was pregnant. By that time, a feeling of guilt had already taken root in his heart. His wife told him that he had to do something to save Anne because the King of England would never spare her life. Lady Elizabeth made a dreadful scene, shouting at him that he would burn in hell in the afterlife if he didn’t redeem some of his mortal sins by saving Anne as he hadn’t saved George.

The Earl of Wiltshire made up his mind he would try to do something to save Anne and get her located somewhere in Europe, in another country and under another name. He remembered his old friend Count Jean de Montreuil whom he had once saved hunting in France and who felt obliged to him with his life. He knew that Jean had been living in the Republic of Venice for many years, which was neither a part of France where Anne could have been recognized nor a part of the Holy Roman Empire where the nephew of Catherine of Aragon ruled. It seemed to be an ideal variant for Anne to live there quietly and die in due time.

Boleyn also decided risk contacting with Henry Percy who had always loved Anne and whose heart had been broken when their betrothal had been cancelled many years ago. Thomas Boleyn was lucky because Henry Percy had already planned Anne’s salvation by himself before Boleyn even came to him. Boleyn and Percy gathered forces, and together they worked out the risky plan that finally proved to be effective.

“Mary will take good care of Anne’s son,” Boleyn said.

“Yes, she will,” Percy agreed. Then he glared at the Earl of Wiltshire. “It is fantastic how Cromwell manipulates King Henry who doesn’t see that all those accusations are false. King Henry doesn’t even see how much harm Anne’s execution might bring to the prestige of the monarchy and the Tudors in general. To execute the woman who has just given birth to a child is not a very good cause. In addition, there will be rumors that Anne’s child might be the son of the king.”

“The king is thinking only about today. He doesn’t think strategically, for a long-term perspective,” Thomas mused.

Henry Percy laughed bitterly, reflecting all the pain he had felt since the day of Anne’s arrest. “Undoubtedly, Henry Tudor will never release Anne from the Tower. Even if he suddenly wants to spare her life, Cromwell will never allow him to do that. Cromwell will make up a new story about Anne and will bring more charges to condemn her to death.”

“The reality is such that we must proceed with our plan,” Thomas Boleyn suggested carefully.

Percy nodded. “My people are ready. I just hope that God will help us, and everything will work well.” He cleared his throat. “Among Anne’s ladies, Lady Eleanor is helping us. Several other people work at the Tower – they are guards. Lady Eleanor and these guards all are my people.”

“Thank you, Lord Northumberland.”

“Lord Wiltshire, none of Anne’s aunts attending her at the Tower must know about our plan.”

Thomas Boleyn nodded. “I understand the situation very well.” He emitted a heavy sign. He felt weak and was often tired as his health had significantly deteriorated since Anne and George’s arrests. “How is Anne feeling? Did your people tell you, your lordship?”

“The labor was very difficult. Anne lost much blood, but apart from physical exhaustion and blood loss, she is fine. She will regain her strength in about two weeks.”

“Then, the execution will happen at the beginning of December,” Boleyn stated.

Percy nodded. “Yes. My people will let me know what date and time King Henry and that devil Cromwell will set for her execution.”

“Good.”

“The executioner from Calais won’t come to London.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” Percy replied, his tone proud. “A month ago, my loyal man went to Calais; he paid several executioners to make sure that they wouldn’t travel to London in December. Cromwell already knows that no French executioner will be available before the end of the year.”

“They can use an axe,” Boleyn parried.

“They won’t need an axe if everything goes as we plan. We need the king to order they burn Anne at the stake rather than have her beheaded,” the Earl objected.

“Oh,” Boleyn breathed. “It is not easy.”

“It should be fine,” Percy said in an emollient tone. “I talked to Cromwell several times in the last months; I carefully hinted that Anne should be burnt because she is an evil witch who cuckolded the king and who made me, her former fiancé, suffer. I told Cromwell that I am sure that Anne seduced the king through witchcraft, like she had seduced me many years ago when she couldn’t have a royal match and wanted to marry at least the heir to the rich earldom.”

Boleyn smiled. “I have heard the recent rumors about you.”

“They say I am afraid of sorcery and witchcraft,” Henry Percy began, feeling an unexpected lightening of his heart. “I complained in the presence of many courtiers that I had become an unfortunate victim of witchcraft many years ago.” He smirked. “Of course, I don’t believe in witchcraft, and I deliberately spread all these rumors to ensure that my conversations with Cromwell don’t come across as suspicious.”

“You are playing a dangerous game.”

“Well, the game is worth the candle,” Percy said flatly, with a grin. “If no French executioner can arrive in London, Anne will protest against her execution; she is scared to be beheaded by an axe. Her protests will infuriate the king and Cromwell, and they will order her execution by burning.” He rolled his eyes. “If she is burnt, there is no proof of her salvation. Ashes are not a body.”

“The king may decide to wait until a French executioner can come here,” Boleyn countered.

“No, he won’t wait. He wants to marry Jane Seymour before the end of the year.”

The older man sighed. “The king may issue an order to use an axe for her beheading.”

“Then my people will act in accordance with our first plan. They will dissolve sleeping draught in wine and water; the guards and Anne’s ladies will be sleeping. Then they will secretly take Anne out of the Tower. We have already thought everything out. However, if it happens, we won’t be able to stage Anne’s death,” Percy said in such a quiet voice that it vibrated in his chest. “If it happens, Anne’s life will go in conformity with our plan. As for us, we would have to leave England because we would be suspected as Anne’s accomplices who helped her escape.”

“I would be the first suspect,” Thomas Boleyn stated, also very quietly. “I have already prepared enough money to leave the country with my wife and several members of my family, including my daughter Mary and her children. I will take Mary with us abroad because otherwise she will be beheaded.”

“Let’s hope that I have successfully manipulated Cromwell and that the king will listen to his chief minister. If Anne is burnt, she will be technically dead. We won’t need to flee the kingdom.”

“I pray it will be so.”

“I will learn of the king’s decision in the next two days. I will keep you posted.”

“Thank you, Lord Northumberland.” Boleyn emitted a heavy sigh, his expression strained. “I hope we won’t be checkmated.”

Northumberland raised his head and glanced at the dark, clouded sky. “No, we won’t. God will help us,” he said, a glimpse of confidence in his tone. “Anne doesn’t deserve all these hardships. God cannot be so cruel to deprive us of the last chance to save her life.”

“I pray we won’t fail,” Thomas Boleyn said ending their discussion.

Every time the Earl of Northumberland remembered that Anne had been sentenced to death on the trumped-up charges of adultery and incest and that it had happened because the king had wanted her dead, he felt anger slash through his heart. He loathed King Henry for his foolishness and callousness. He didn’t respect Henry Tudor as his king and his sovereign, although he had always visibly acknowledged his honor and loyalty to the King of England, in reality considering the king a holier-than-thou, swell-headed tyrant. In public, however, he had to pretend and to play the role of a loyal servant at the court.

Henry Percy and Anne Boleyn’s tragic romance was ruined by their parents, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, and King Henry. Many years ago, the young lord had met Anne at the court when she was a lady-in-waiting to Queen Catherine and he was a page at Cardinal Wolsey’s household. Percy felt attached to Anne at first sight. Deep and passionate love for the beautiful, young, French looking woman grew in his heart, and she returned his affection. Percy started courting Anne in secret, but there was nothing physical between them – only courtly love and romantic devotion, which elevated the young man’s spirits to heaven. Their affection grew day by day; they intended to marry and were secretly betrothed.