Free The Lost King by Alison Prince Page B

they say his brother, the King, is a giant of a man. Richard has a thin, kind face, with grey eyes like his little nephew’s and dark eyebrows. There is a wary look to him sometimes, like a dog that lifts its head at a sound nobody else has heard. Had he really been a dog, people might have called him the runt of the litter, for his back is not quite straight and one shoulder is a little higher than the other. I’ve heard him sneered at as ‘Richard Crookback’, but that is unkind, because he is strong and wiry. And he carries his cloak tossed over that shoulder, so you hardlysee any lack of straightness. Papa thinks swaddling babies tightly when they are born, as so many people do, can cause a curvature of the spine. My brothers and sisters were free to kick their little legs – but I can see it saves a lot of bother if babies are made into tight little parcels that can be hung on any handy peg.
    Papa told me a lot about Richard. He was only eight years old when his father and eldest brother were killed in a battle. After that, he lived in the house of a man called Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, who was his guardian, just as Rivers is guardian to Edward. Richard’s wife, Anne, is Warwick’s daughter. They met as children, and loved each other even then. But Papa says Warwick turned out to be a treacherous enemy to Richard. No wonder he is watchful.
    Little Edward will not see his uncle so often from now on, because the King has made Richard the governor of the North of England. Annie, the fat woman who was sitting with Edward on her lap when I first saw him, is the cook here, and she knows everything. She says the North is a wild, hilly place rather like Wales, but colder.
    Edward made no fuss when his Uncle Richard told him he had to go away, just pressed his lips togetherand nodded. He was given the title of Prince of Wales when he was just a baby, and tries hard to be grown up. When he is old enough, he will govern Wales and the Marches surrounding Ludlow Castle. And of course, he will be the King of England when his father dies. So he is serious about everything, and works hard at his lessons.
    Our days follow a strict pattern. We rise early, while it is still dark. I sleep in the same room as Edward, in case he should wake at night. I help him wash and dress, then we go to Matins and hear Mass. We have breakfast then he studies with his tutor. He already reads very well. Dr Alcock has a huge, heavy Bible, in a language I don’t understand. Edward says it is from Germany. It is not made by hand, but printed by a wonderful machine.
    Earl Rivers is stern about the way the servants behave. He is very strict about how we speak, for the King has said his son must not at any time hear swear words or ‘ribald language’. Annie laughed when she heard that and said, ‘Better keep my mouth shut, then, hadn’t I?’
    Annie has worked in this castle since she was a girl, and her mother before her. She is the chief cook now and a great gossip, but wonderfully kind. Shehas told me a lot about the royal people we serve, though I don’t see much of them, as my days and nights are fully taken up with Edward.
    When his morning lessons end at about ten o’clock, we have dinner, then I take him upstairs for a short rest. Rivers wanted to know the reason, but I didn’t have a reason, I was just doing what Mama always did. I told him my father says children need time after a meal to digest their food. He accepted that, so the first lesson after dinner starts a little later now.
    The afternoon is for what the outdoor tutors call ‘sport’. I call it play, though it is only play when I am allowed to join in. We run and jump and dance and sing songs, but that never goes on for very long, because there are more serious aims. Edward is instructed in the proper way to throw a ball or a stone to hit a target, and he learns the formal moves of fencing, using a straight stick