After the first battle of St. Albans and his exploits in Calais he was accepted as one of the heroes of the age and he had become one of those legendary figures who cannot be suppressed. There might be the occasional setback...but there was nothing which could deter them for long. He could turn defeat into victory as he had after the second battle of St. Albans. Who would have believed that after suffering such a defeat—one might say a debacle—he would be riding into London and proclaiming a new King.

He had genius. There was no doubt about it. He knew it and in his cleverness had made others accept that fact.

He was the Lord of the Kingdom.

Edward would have given him any honour he needed. He only had to ask.

‘What shall it be, Richard?’ he had said. I owe so much to you.’

He had shrugged his shoulders. He could not be the King. But he was Warwick.

He said: I will be just Warwick. I think that is enough.’

Edward declared with ready satisfaction that it certainly was. No one in the kingdom should ever doubt what everyone owed to Warwick.

‘Ah, my good friend, you are right. The name Warwick is as proud as any man could wish.’

Edward had that easy charm. He liked to leave things to Warwick. Warwick was shrewd; he had the people with him. But not so much as Edward had. How they loved that golden youth in whom the marks of debauchery had not yet begun to show, but they would, Warwick knew; none could live as Edward did and remain unscathed. The people thought it was manly. God forbid! But it was a change of course after the piety of Henry. It was surprising that though people admired piety and applauded it, they soon grew heartily sick of it; and when a libertine like Edward rode through their streets and eyed the merchants’ wives and daughters the merchants seemed to like it.

There was no doubt that Edward possessed that indefinable quality called charm. That was all to the good. He was the best possible figurehead behind whom a King-Maker could work, as long as Edward did not forget that he owed his position to Warwick.

Often he told the King that he was not completely safe. True Margaret was on the continent and Henry in the Tower; but while Margaret lived they must be watchful. She had friends in France. Not only her father—poor ineffectual René, drooling over a young wife now...well, he would do that very well, Warwick was sure. They must not forget him though. He could be in a position to supply Margaret with the means to return. But the big menace was the King of France.

‘He is not so fond of Margaret as his father was,’ said Edward. I doubt he would want to be embroiled.’

‘He would like to harass us...a pastime greatly loved by the French for as long as any of us can remember.’

‘He would not want to go to war with us.’

‘He might like to help Margaret to do so. The North is ready to rise with her. Don’t forget they hid Henry all those years. He has friends up there. Edward, a marriage in the right quarter could do our cause all the good in the world.’

Edward nodded.

‘Marriage with France,’ went on Warwick tentatively.

‘Indeed yes.’ Edward was thinking of the most enchanting woman he had ever met. When he had been hunting she had suddenly appeared before him and throwing herself on her knees had begged him to restore her husband’s estates. Edward had been amazed that one so young could be a widow. Her husband she told him had been killed at the second battle of St. Albans.

Edward fell in love as rapidly and regularly as most people sat down to dinner; and because of his charm and royalty he could invariably dispense with the preliminaries of courtship. It had been different with the fair young widow. She was most elusive, so he was thinking of her and only half listening to Warwick. He knew Warwick was right, of course. He would have to marry and marry soon. He only hoped the French Princess was personable. He could not abide ugly women. But with his habitual easy-going temperament he shrugged all that aside. He would have to do his duty and that need not interfere with his enjoyment.

Warwick was saying something about negotiations with the King of France, talking a little smugly. Edward smiled inwardly. He believed Louis treated Warwick as an equal. It was amazing what store Warwick set on that.

‘No honours,’ he had said. ‘It is enough to be Warwick.’

‘Louis has changed his tune of late,’ said Warwick complacently. ‘He is aware of our strength.’

Warwick was smiling to himself. He meant his power. The wily King of France knew where the power in England lay. The man who had his respect was not so much the King as the King-Maker.

Oh yes, he could be proud. He certainly was at the pinnacle of power.


* * *

The King of France was indeed his friend. When his ambassador, Jean de Lannoy, arrived in England he had glittering prospects to lay before Warwick. He could work with Louis. There would be peace between their countries. They would stand against Burgundy; and they would be the firm allies which surely fortune had meant two such brilliant men to be.

And of course there should be a French marriage. Edward needed a wife. Perhaps, considered Louis, his daughter was too young. She needed more years to grow up. What of his wife’s sister. Bona of Savoy?

This would be an excellent arrangement Warwick decided. He discussed it with his brother George.

‘The King should settle into matrimony,’ he said. ‘It is very necessary for one of his temperament. He should be producing heirs instead of bastards.’

George said that this was certainly so but he wondered how the King would feel about the choice of bride. Since he had become a connoisseur of feminine charms he might be difficult to please.

‘This is a marriage, George. No need for romance. Let the King marry and produce an heir. Who knows it might even sober him a little.’

George was in full agreement. It was an excellent idea to make a marriage which would please the King of France and strengthen the friendship between their two countries.

Edward listening to the proposal displayed his usual tolerant charm.

‘Can we trust Louis?’ he asked.

‘A marriage will bring us closer to him. When can one ever completely trust one’s allies?’

‘This Bona of Savoy...’ mused Edward.

‘A lovely creature by all accounts.’

‘They always are,’ said Edward. ‘Oh well, I daresay she is fair enough.’

Warwick was pleased when he reported to George.

‘He has given his promise?’

‘He has not said in so many words that he will agree to the marriage, but he will. He will see the advantages. Edward is no fool. He loves his crown. He’ll do everything he can to keep it.’

‘Or let you keep it for him.’

‘I think he is appreciative of what I have done.’

‘I should hope so.’

‘I knew when I made him King what to expect of Edward. I shall be with him shortly. He is pausing for a brief visit to Grafton Regis to stay with Lord Rivers and after that he will join me.’

‘He seems to have become very fond of the Rivers.’

Warwick laughed. ‘I believe his latest flame is Rivers’ daughter. Woodville’s widow.’

‘A very comely woman, I believe.’

‘So you have heard of her. My dear brother the King’s path is strewn with comely women.’


* * *

It would not be difficult to persuade the King, he was sure. Oh, he was very sure of himself. Rising on the crest of the wave. Warwick supreme. There was no doubt that he was the power in the land. The King of France treated him as though he were royal; he corresponded with him—not with Edward. All over the world he was known as the ruler of England, the power behind the glittering figure of the King, they must deal with him if they wanted friendship with England. Who would be a King when one could be a King-Maker.

He had made sure that his family shared his prosperity. That was wisdom. When he needed support they were at hand to give it. George of course as Chancellor was rich and powerful. John was now Warden of the East Marches; his two sisters had married into influential families, one to William Lord Hastings who was one of the King’s intimate friends and the other to Thomas Lord Stanley, member of a powerful northern family. He had scattered his influence. He believed that if he measured his possessions and his influence against those of the King he would be the richer.

And Edward was amenable. He seemed content to let Warwick rule. Even the King’s licentious habits were in Warwick’s favour. Better for the King to be so interested in the bed rather than politics. Not that Edward was a fool in those matters. There was strength in him and if he did not allow himself to be so often diverted by his pursuit of women he would have been a power to reckon with. So be grateful again, thought Warwick. All the same he must not allow Edward to become too friendly with men like Hastings, Stafford and Herbert. It would not do for him to get it into his head that he could do without Warwick. Not that he had, but he was growing up. It was easier to deal with a boy of seventeen than it was with a man rising into his twenties.

Edward was not a vindictive man. He could easily forgive his enemies; and one who had fought against him one year could become a friend the next. He was even ready to cultivate the young Duke of Somerset whose father had been one of the chief Lancastrians and Edward’s greatest enemy.

‘Unlike the scriptures, I do not visit the sins of the fathers on the third and fourth generation,’ said Edward. ‘If a man likes to come to me and be my friend, I shall be ready to forget what his father has done.’

And he did attract men to him; that ease of manner, that charm, those outstanding good looks brought him admirers and friends as well as a host of mistresses.

He was becoming very fond of the Rivers family, Warwick noticed. Why, Warwick could not understand. Surely it was not because he had at one time taken a fane y to Rivers’ daughter?

‘If he is going to favour the families of his mistresses,’ he joked to George, ‘we shall have so many favoured ones in the land that favours will be the older of the day. But we must get him married. I shall get an answer from him at the very next council meeting.’


* * *

It was at this council meeting that Warwick received his first intimation that the relationship between himself and Edward had changed.

There were many of Edward’s new and intimate friends present, and Warwick did not realize at first that they were there to rally round the King, who gave no indication to Warwick that anything had changed between them.

Everyone knew what hopes Warwick pinned on friendship with the King of France and how he prided himself on his ability to handle Louis. Therefore the first shock came when Edward declared that he did not trust Louis of France.

‘We have heard from our good friend the Earl of Warwick.’ said the King, ‘that Louis is eager for an alliance with us. But it is a fact that Pierre de Brézé, who is Margaret of Anjou’s warmest and most faithful supporter, is highly favoured at the Court of France.’

‘This is not so,’ cried Warwick. ‘When Louis came to the throne Pierre de Brézé was imprisoned in Loches...’

‘And quickly released,’ retorted Edward. ‘Moreover 1 have it from one of our French prisoners that Louis is plotting against us.’

‘That is nonsense,’ cried Warwick, shattered not so much by these accusations as by the fact that Edward had brought them up before the Council without first consulting him. ‘I shall send a despatch to the King of France immediately informing him of the allegations which have been made against him and asking him to prove to you all that they are nonsense.’

He looked defiantly at the King who met his eyes with a smile as he said that as usual the Earl of Warwick had got to the root of the matter and if he thought that was the right action then so must it be.

Warwick breathed more freely. It was not really a revolt. It was just an opinion he had expressed. He had not meant to go against him deliberately.

‘And now,’ said Warwick, ‘there is the question of the King’s marriage. This must be settled. I hope very nun h that the King will agree with me.’

Again that charming, affable smile. ‘I do, my lord. Indeed I do. Nothing would suit me better than to be married.’

‘Your subjects will be delighted,’ cried Warwick.