Crown of Blood | The White Princess

Death To Tudor and to Neville

Glancing back, Lisbet smiled a little at the boy who rode behind her, his hands clasped tightly around her waist as he looked around warily at the men who were glaring at him. Not wanting to be under their gaze anymore, Henry turned his head away and close his eyes, his grip on Lisbet's waist tightening a little.

As the procession approached the camp (now filled to the brim with Scotsmen from King James), York soldiers began to cry out in excitement and triumph as they spotted the Tudor boy riding behind their Princess.

"They have him!" One cried "they have the Tudor bastard!"
"Scrawny little thing, aint he?" Called another.

Henry felt himself turn red with shame but he held his head high as his mother had taught him to and tried with all his might to push back the tears that sprang to his eyes.
'Tears are for the weak' his father had told him repeatedly.

By the time Lisbet's horse reached her mother's tent at the centre of the camp it seemed as if the entire York army had gathered to witness the capture of Henry Tudor and the Duchess betted that the soldiers taunting could probably be heard for miles!

Halting her horse, Lisbet swung down from the saddle before pulling Henry down with her and setting him on his feet. She feeling a small pang of pity as she watched him look around, completely terrified, even more so when he saw Edmund Plantagenet stroll out of a nearby tent, his brother Edward with him, glittering crowns on their heads.

Lisbet pushed Henry forward and he walked towards the two men, determined to appear brave in front of them, to do his family proud but found that he could not even find the courage to stand when he stood before the two Plantagenet Princes who were glaring down at him and fell to his knees.

The jeering of the York army grew louder at that before Edmund held up and hand for silence and slowly circled the red headed boy in front of him before standing back with his brother.
"Today" he cried at the top of his voice "we have won a great victory! We have captured Henry Tudor!"

A great roar erupted from the soldiers and Ed grinned at them all before holding up his hand again. "He is our prisoner!" He yelled "as shall his siblings and family soon be! This is just the beginning, my friends! Soon we shall have the entire usurper's nest kneeling before York in submission! Death to Tudor!"

"Death to Tudor!" The men chanted in response, banging their pikes and feet on the ground and Ned looked to the boy on the ground, watching him shudder slightly, his head bowed.

"Take him away" he murmured to Lisbet who nodded and raised Henry to his feet, marching him away to where a secure tent had been made ready for him.

The tent itself was not very big, had only two narrow beds and a small wooden bench. Lisbet gently guided Henry to one and sat him down on it, removing his fur cloak and watching, not knowing what to do, as the 7 year old continued to shudder, the cries of the Yorkists still ringing in his ears.