Free By Loyalty Bound: The Story of the Mistress of King Richard III by Elizabeth Ashworth Page B

heard voices outside the door and the key scraped again. Sir William stood to one side as two of the women from downstairs brought in dishes of potage, bread and ale.
    “Eat,” said Sir William from the doorway, “then get some sleep. We must leave early in the morning. We have a long journey.”
    “Where are we going?” asked Anne in alarm.
    “To a place of safety,” he told her. “There is no need to trouble yourself, Lady Anne. I will take care of you now.”
    He left the room with a brief ‘goodnight’ and Anne turned without appetite to the food and then to inspect the bed to see if the linen was clean and if there were any signs of fleas or bugs.

Chapter Four
September 1470 ~ October 1470
    Robert Harrington applied more oil to the blade and rubbed it vigorously with a rag. The past few days had been humid, with the constant threat of a thunderstorm rumbling in the heavy air and a hanging drizzle that left everything shrouded in dampness. The spot of rust he had seen on the Duke of Gloucester’s sword had alarmed him. He had lectured Diccon often enough in the past about the need to take good care of his weaponry and he was keen not to be caught out neglecting his duties to his new lord.
    He glanced up as the tent flap was pushed back and the duke came in with a grim face. He met Robert’s eyes for a moment before going to the small trestle and pouring wine into a horn beaker from the flagon that stood there. Robert continued to work, though with half his attention on Diccon. He knew him well enough to sense when he was upset but also knew that it was better to wait until he was ready to talk rather than to question him.
    “Montagu has declared for his brother,” he said after watching him for a moment. Robert stopped what he was doing and looked up. The implication was clear to him. If Montagu had decided to support Warwick, the king’s forces would not be strong enough to have any chance of winning a battle. And despite his brother’s confidence that the Stanley army would move to the king’s aid there was still no sign of them, and every day more lords seemed to desert their sovereign.
    The duke reached to pour another cup of wine, then changed his mind and put the flagon down. His actions were calm but Robert could see that he was only just in control of his temper. If it had been the king then Edward would have thrown the cup and probably the wine as well, and the sound of raised voices from the direction of the king’s tent confirmed that his displeasure was being expressed in a predictably vociferous manner.
    Robert slowly rubbed the sword again and twisted it to the light to check that the rust had been removed.
    “I doubt I shall have need of that,” remarked the duke. “My Lord Hastings has advised the king to flee.”
    “Flee, my lord?” asked Robert in surprise. He had thought that they would have to withdraw north and raise more men, but a decision to leave the country and allow Warwick and Clarence to take control was not what he had expected.
    “We are to go to Lynn and take a boat for Holland. From there we will go to Burgundy and ask our sister’s husband for assistance.” He sat down on the edge of his camp bed and for a moment rested his face in his hands. “This will be the second time I have had to leave England,” he said.
    Robert didn’t reply. He was unsure what to say and it no longer seemed appropriate to put an arm around Diccon’s shoulders to comfort him as he had done in the past when he had found him despondent – though back at Middleham his problems had mostly centred on an inability to accept defeat in the tiltyard or being beaten at chess by Anne Neville.
    “Will you pack?” he said. “We are to leave at once.”
    “The threat is so great?” asked Robert as he returned the sword to its scabbard with a grating sound. The duke nodded.
    “Will you accompany me?”
    “Of course, my lord. I am yours to command,” Robert reassured him, his fingers