Page 17 of The Uprising
‘Tell me, Lady Cara, have you had any word from your husband? I understand he is in York on behalf of the king.’
‘Yes, Your Majesty, I received a note; albeit a rushed one, only this morning. I was beginning to fear for his wellbeing as I had heard nothing from him for some days.’
‘That is good news indeed. I am pleased your mind is at rest, and he is presumably in good health?’
‘He writes that he is well, thank you, Your Majesty.’
‘May I enquire if he had anything to say about the new uprising in York? I am most concerned about the situation and wish to speak to the king to intercede for these poor people who have had their rights stripped asunder.’
‘That is exceedingly kind, Your Grace; I agree, it is difficult not to be sympathetic to their cause.’
‘The king is dreadfully short-tempered if I dare to get involved in his business without understanding the details. What may you tell me of what is happening up there?’
Cara was torn; she learned little from George’s note, but she knew too much from her research five hundred years into the future. Here was her chance to assist the queen to bend the king to her will, but what if they succeeded to change the course of history? Would Robert be spared the noose? And if so, what repercussions would she set in motion if she unwittingly rewrote the timeline in her amateur efforts?
Cara turned to look at the queen as they strolled along the path towards the gardens.
‘All I know, Your Majesty, is that there is a large group of men; as many as forty thousand, gathered in protest against the revoking of the rights to practisethe old religion, the dismantling of the lesser monasteries, and the threat of higher taxes. Oh, and they also demand that the king recognise Princess Mary as his heir. The rebels claim they have been dealt an unfair hand, and many sympathise with their grievance even if they have no loyalty to the Pope.My understanding is that the uprising is not against the king, but rather against Cromwell’s policies.’
‘I see,’ said the queen. A few strands of fair hair escaped from the confines of her gable headdress and shone in the sun. ‘I will speak to the king, indeed.’
Cara longed to say,Yes, plead with him not to break his promise, or the rebels will be executed.Instead, she guarded her tongue. It wouldn’t do to lead the queen into dangerous waters, but she couldn’t resist saying, ‘The leader of the Pilgrimage of Grace is a dear friend of my husband’s and vouches that their intentions are honest, and they are true to the king. I would be grateful if you might beg leniency for Robert Aske, Your Majesty.’
‘Thank you, Lady Cara. I do appreciate your candour; you have the advantage of much experience at court, as well as out in the world, so I don’t take your advice lightly. It’s refreshing not to be treated as though I’m made of glass and may shatter at any moment if I hear one ill word.’
Cara smiled at the queen with genuine fondness, and they continued their turn around the gardens, arm in arm, enjoying the crisp October air, softened by the gentle rays of sunshine.
Cara sighed with relief. Her appointment as lady-in-waiting had worked out better than she had expected, and Queen Jane who had a sweet nature, was far easier to please than Queen Anne who had been volatile and at the mercy of sudden tempers and low spirits. Not that Cara blamed Anne; she’d witnessed what she had been up against with so many people scheming for her downfall.
Rose Cottage, York - Present day
Cara fumbled through the fog of a sweet, deep sleep to switch on the bedside lamp. She looked across at George and saw his t-shirt was drenched in sweat.
‘Hush, darling. Wake up. It’s only a dream.’
‘Where am I? What’s going on?’ he said.
‘It’s okay. You must have been dreaming of Tudorville.’
George looked at her and after a few seconds, said, ‘I think I remember what’s been happening.’
‘You were shouting about Robert,’ said Cara. ‘Tell me what you saw while it’s fresh in your mind.’
‘It’s difficult to know what was real and what was the stuff I’ve been reading, but it felt like I was there.’
‘It can be that way, I get vivid dreams. Eddie’s the same. I don’t think you’ve had dreams like that about Tudorville before, have you?’
‘No, not vivid like that, as though I was actually there.’
Cara handed George a glass of water from her bedside table and he gulped it down.
‘I wonder if you’ll remember our life here next time I go back. I’ve longed for you to remember, but now I’m not so sure it would be a good thing, given the situation with your friend, Robert. I’m trying not to do anything that Tudorville Cara wouldn’t do. I mustn’t attempt to steer you on a different course. It’s just too dangerous,’ said Cara.
‘I was sitting at a table with Robert in a tavern, discussing the Pilgrimage of Grace. Did you tell me about that?’
‘No, not as far as I recall. George didn’t give me details of where they met. When I’m back there again, I’ll ask you about Cornelius and if you remember, you won’t look at me as if I’ve lost my senses!’
‘I saw Robert being executed. That’s why I was calling out in my dream.’
