Archibald Douglas. It was true that he was tiring of Marion Boyd, although she had been a good mistress to him, but if she would understand his need to wander far afield, he would not mind keeping her on and visiting her occasionally. But it seemed to him that Janet would be the sort of woman who might absorb all his interest in which case it would have to be good-bye to Marion.
Who wanted a rough camp bed when he could be in a luxurious four poster with a glorious red-headed woman to comfort him? It was true Perkin had made great promises. It was very easy to make promises when one still had to gain a victory before he could redeem them; afterward the promises could be forgotten for they might not be so easy to carry out.
He went to Perkin’s camp. The young man was sunk in melancholy.
“You do not look happy, my friend,” said James. “Are you missing your warm marital bed?”
“’Tis so, my lord.”
“Ah, I miss my own bed. I tell you that.”
“I am troubled because the blood we are shedding is that of Englishmen . . . my own subjects,” said Perkin. “I cannot sleep at night for thinking of it.”
He cannot sleep at night because he wants his Katharine! thought James. He cannot sleep at night because he knows that Englishmen do not want King Richard the Fourth, and they will stay with Henry Tudor rather than fight. Well, it is a pleasant and human excuse and it will help to get me back to Edinburgh.
James nodded. “That is no mood in which to go to war, my friend.”
“I agree,” Perkin answered eagerly.
“Well, we have done our little foray. Perhaps we should think of returning to Edinburgh.”
Perkin felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
He was going home to Katharine and the baby.
There was murmuring throughout the country because Dudley and Empson were endeavoring to raise money for the Scottish war. The people were being asked to pay heavy taxes because a certain Perkin Warbeck was attempting to wrest the throne from Henry Tudor.
To the people of Bodmin in Cornwall this seemed a matter for kings to decide among themselves. What did it matter to them what king was on the throne? When did they ever see him? King Henry or King Richard . . . what did Cornwall care?
Lawyer Thomas Flammock felt very strongly on this issue. He went into the market square and talked to the people about it. They gathered round listening intently. There was not a man present who had not been harassed by extra taxes.
“My patience me,” grumbled the blacksmith Michael Joseph, ’tis hard enough for the likes of we to put bread in our mouths and those of our childer . . . are us going to stand by and pay like helpless fules? Don’t ’ee think we should up and do som’at about it?”
Joseph was a powerful speaker. In his forge he talked what the King would call sedition but what to the people of Bodmin seemed sound common sense.
“Where is the fighting?” asked Thomas Flammock. “It’s on the border between Scotland and England, there’s where it is. They’ve been fighting there for hundreds of years and they’ll go on fighting for a hundred more. Why should we be asked to pay for their quarrels?”
“But what do we do about it, eh, lawyer?” shouted a voice in the crowd.
“That is what I want to suggest to you,” said Flammock. “We can march to London. We can present a petition to the King and ask him to get rid of his evil advisers. If the King wants to wage war it is not for us . . . the people of Cornwall . . . who know no difference, wars or no wars . . . it is not for us to pay for it.”
The crowd cheered loudly.
“And who will go to London with this petition?” asked the man who had spoken before.
“We must all go, my friend. If one or two of us go . . . we’d not be received most likely. We’ve got to show them that we mean what we say. We must go to London in a body . . . march to London . . . show that we mean what we say: we will not pay these taxes for a fight which does not concern us.”
“We would want someone to lead us,” said the man. He pushed his way to the spot where Flammock was standing with Joseph. “Friends,” he cried, “here’s two good Cornish men. Shall we ask them to lead us to London and the King?”
There was a shout from the crowd.
“Lawyer Flammock and Blacksmith Joseph! Our leaders . . .”
There was wild enthusiasm, but Flammock lifted his hand for silence.
“I will lead you,” he said. “And you, Michael?”
“Aye,” said Michael. “I’ll come along.”
“We will lead you until we can find someone more worthy to be your leader.”
“Ain’t no one more worthy than ’ee, lawyer,” shouted a voice.
“Someone of the nobility would carry more weight. But we shall not delay. We shall set out for London. . . .Tomorrow at dawn . . . we’ll assemble here and those who can, must come with us. The more men we have the more likely we are to make our point. Is that agreed?”
There was a roar of approval in the crowd. The next morning at dawn, Flammock was amazed at the numbers who had assembled in the square. They were carrying bows and arrows and billhooks. He was a little alarmed for he had meant this to be a peaceful demonstration.
