Chapter One
Boy and Boar
England, 1485
Sir Thomas Stanley sat at the window and enjoyed the late-summer sun. It shone through the diamond panes of glass and on to his velvet jacket the colour of rust. He chewed on a peach and looked out over the fine garden of his castle.
There was a soft knock at the door and Sir Thomas called, “Enter!”
A boy pushed open the door – a fair-haired, pale boy in a green tunic. He was carrying a wooden sword.
“Ah, George, my son! Come in, come in!” Sir Thomas said, waving a hand.
The boy stood in front of his father’s chair. “You sent for me, Father?”
“I did, George, I did!” The man smiled. It was a wide smile and as honest as a snake that is just about to swallow a rabbit.
“I was practising my riding with a lance. Robin was teaching me.”
“Good boy, good boy. We need all the knights we can get to fight our wars. There will always be wars and there will always be knights! Ha! Now, my dear, dear son…”
George blinked. His father had never called him ‘dear’ before. In fact, he thought his father hardly knew he was alive and living in the same castle. At dinner, his father sat with his favourite knights and ladies at the top table. George sat with the children and the squires.
“As you know,” Sir Thomas was saying, “when a boy reaches your age, he is sent away to live with another family. It’s a chance for a lad to see how other great families do things … get to see other parts of England … meet new people.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Now, I have the most thrilling news. It is so exciting I can hardly believe it myself, my dear, dear son.”
“You are sending me away to serve as a squire to a knight.”
“Not just any knight.”
“A great knight?”
“Not just any great knight!” Sir Thomas Stanley chuckled. “You, my dear son, are going to serve in the palace of the king himself!”
“The king?” George said. “Why?”
“Why? Why what?”
“Why me? The king has thousands of fine families to choose from. Why me?”
Sir Thomas shifted in his seat as if it were hot. “Don’t ask questions like that, boy. Now … turn around and kneel before King Richard III!”
George turned slowly. Sitting in a darkened corner of the room, was a man with skin as pale as plaster. Dark eyes burned in a sad face with thin lips. The man was dressed in black. It was plain, black wool, not the fine silk George would expect from a king. Only a badge in the shape of a white boar on his riding cloak and a large golden ring on his finger gave some colour.
The king sat hunched in the chair and stared at George in a way that made the boy shiver.
A tall man was standing behind the chair. He smiled a sneering smile. George fell to one knee and bowed before the king.
King Richard spoke in a harsh voice. “Sir Richard Ratcliffe here will be your keeper,” he said.
The king stood up. He was not a tall man and he walked with a limp. He passed the kneeling boy and went to stand beside Sir Thomas.
“He will do,” he said.
Sir Thomas wrung his hands. “Oh, thank you, sire.”
“Do not let me down, Thomas Stanley, or you know what will happen,” he said quietly, and his voice was hard as frost.
Sir Thomas smiled a frightened smile and bowed low. Then the king was gone.
Ratcliffe slapped the boy on his back. “Get your servant – what’s his name? Robin? Get him to pack your saddlebags.We ride for Nottingham Castle as soon as you are ready.”
George hurried to the door.
“Goodbye, George,” Sir Thomas said. There was something in the way he said it that made George think he meant ‘Goodbye … for ever’.
Chapter Two
Tudor and Traitor
Robin groaned as he packed George Stanley’s saddlebags. Then he spoke a curious rhyme:
“ The Rat, the Cat, and Lovell the Dog , Rule all England under the Hog .”
“What does that mean?” George asked.
Robin shook his head. He was an old man, wise in the ways of teaching a knight, but feeble
Boy and Boar
England, 1485
Sir Thomas Stanley sat at the window and enjoyed the late-summer sun. It shone through the diamond panes of glass and on to his velvet jacket the colour of rust. He chewed on a peach and looked out over the fine garden of his castle.
There was a soft knock at the door and Sir Thomas called, “Enter!”
A boy pushed open the door – a fair-haired, pale boy in a green tunic. He was carrying a wooden sword.
“Ah, George, my son! Come in, come in!” Sir Thomas said, waving a hand.
The boy stood in front of his father’s chair. “You sent for me, Father?”
“I did, George, I did!” The man smiled. It was a wide smile and as honest as a snake that is just about to swallow a rabbit.
“I was practising my riding with a lance. Robin was teaching me.”
“Good boy, good boy. We need all the knights we can get to fight our wars. There will always be wars and there will always be knights! Ha! Now, my dear, dear son…”
George blinked. His father had never called him ‘dear’ before. In fact, he thought his father hardly knew he was alive and living in the same castle. At dinner, his father sat with his favourite knights and ladies at the top table. George sat with the children and the squires.
“As you know,” Sir Thomas was saying, “when a boy reaches your age, he is sent away to live with another family. It’s a chance for a lad to see how other great families do things … get to see other parts of England … meet new people.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Now, I have the most thrilling news. It is so exciting I can hardly believe it myself, my dear, dear son.”
“You are sending me away to serve as a squire to a knight.”
“Not just any knight.”
“A great knight?”
“Not just any great knight!” Sir Thomas Stanley chuckled. “You, my dear son, are going to serve in the palace of the king himself!”
“The king?” George said. “Why?”
“Why? Why what?”
“Why me? The king has thousands of fine families to choose from. Why me?”
Sir Thomas shifted in his seat as if it were hot. “Don’t ask questions like that, boy. Now … turn around and kneel before King Richard III!”
George turned slowly. Sitting in a darkened corner of the room, was a man with skin as pale as plaster. Dark eyes burned in a sad face with thin lips. The man was dressed in black. It was plain, black wool, not the fine silk George would expect from a king. Only a badge in the shape of a white boar on his riding cloak and a large golden ring on his finger gave some colour.
The king sat hunched in the chair and stared at George in a way that made the boy shiver.
A tall man was standing behind the chair. He smiled a sneering smile. George fell to one knee and bowed before the king.
King Richard spoke in a harsh voice. “Sir Richard Ratcliffe here will be your keeper,” he said.
The king stood up. He was not a tall man and he walked with a limp. He passed the kneeling boy and went to stand beside Sir Thomas.
“He will do,” he said.
Sir Thomas wrung his hands. “Oh, thank you, sire.”
“Do not let me down, Thomas Stanley, or you know what will happen,” he said quietly, and his voice was hard as frost.
Sir Thomas smiled a frightened smile and bowed low. Then the king was gone.
Ratcliffe slapped the boy on his back. “Get your servant – what’s his name? Robin? Get him to pack your saddlebags.We ride for Nottingham Castle as soon as you are ready.”
George hurried to the door.
“Goodbye, George,” Sir Thomas said. There was something in the way he said it that made George think he meant ‘Goodbye … for ever’.
Chapter Two
Tudor and Traitor
Robin groaned as he packed George Stanley’s saddlebags. Then he spoke a curious rhyme:
“ The Rat, the Cat, and Lovell the Dog , Rule all England under the Hog .”
“What does that mean?” George asked.
Robin shook his head. He was an old man, wise in the ways of teaching a knight, but feeble
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