Richard Thomas
I had just finished my morning mass before I went about my daily stroll. I found myself needing more and more air away from the crowded court as days passed. This morning in town I remember it to be market day; the best day of the year for business. My father didn't care if I was out in public on the busy streets; my wellbeing was of no importance to him. I could defend myself better than most the king's soldier could anyway. I wasn't trained in royal behaviours but diplomacy, rather than sitting at the Royals table, they sat me with the smartest men at court. At first, I thought it was to try and keep an eye on their talking's but I quickly began to absorb their vast amount of knowledge. They taught me the wars of the mind, not in the wars of a field. It remains my greatest strength. That being said, I was still built like an Ox and tall just like my farther. There was the fear of bringing the sickness back to the King, but no one believed it targeted the royals. In fact, the king believed it to be a disease for the poor in the capital and the poor believed it to be the King who brought it in the first place. I knew it was never God's way of cleaning up London, nor did the king bring it back but this private belief did little to dispel rumours. I was walking through the palace door, lost in thought when I heard a whimpering sound behind me.
"Oh, Richard," Lady Redding, I wondered what she wanted. She was always kind to me; we had always found comfort in courting one another. I had also preferred to keep my whoring to women I could trust; like Lady Redding. I was always sure to be a careful man.
"Sir Thomas." I corrected her on her lack of formality out in open. "You forget yourself My Lady" I sympathetically stated, Lady Redding was a married woman; she couldn't be seen using my birth name. I could not have her carelessness ruin both our reputations.
"Sir Thomas, I apologise," She bowed her head of rouge silk "I have been meaning to find you for a while." She glanced toward me with large, childlike mahogany eyes. "I believe my husband and I are going away for rather a long time... you see your father, the King, has offered us an estate in the West, and that kind of offer you just cannot refuse." I could feel the pain she felt in her voice. Whilst she was a comfort to me, it was probably best our parting. If we continued, we would carry much potential risk that we had henceforth been lucky to avoid. I had known this lady for many years, we had become adults together. Sighing, I ghostly smiled as I reached for her dainty hand.
"Lady Redding, I am so pleased for you. And, you are right. It is simply an offer that cannot be refused... You shall be missed." I kissed the back of her snow-like wrist. Then with a simple nob and a lingering touch, I headed toward the doorway; leaving her sorrowful in the stone corridor. I cannot deny that I found comfort in bed with the Lady but I was somewhat indifferent to her departure. It simply felt like a friend moving away. I was used to this kind of behaviour, all us men at court were.
After my encounter with Lady Redding, it had taken me around half the hour to reach the heart of town. With it being the market day, the streets were brimming with people. There were women with straw baskets and the morning gossip on their minds. Dark oak stalls hung from people's homes. Fresh bread and barley interrupted my senses of smell. A handsomely dressed minstrel helped me re-gain focus from the nostalgic reminiscing of Lady Redding and I's time together. He had a flute embedded with silver as children could be seen dancing around him playfully. The songs were happier than the courts own musicians. I couldn't help but smile. Maybe it was the commoner blood that flowed through my veins or the many tedious years I had spent in the castle, but I enjoyed the whole atmosphere of the scene before me.
It did not take long for my eyes to fall upon a very familiar-looking door. Excitement growing, I pushed open the door to the best pub in the capital: The Old King's Head.
I broke through the crowds of men and their pipes that surrounded the inn's doors. Fighting through the smoke, I could see a procession of women upon entering, catching some of their eyes upon passing. I knew immediately that they must be market day whores, not women that I recognised. An unusual thick blanket of silence settled within the pub's walls. Not even the whores were openly selling themselves. I had never seen the Inn both so quiet and so busy at the same time. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a gentleman dressed in a robe of green that stood atop a table whilst every person at the Inn surrounded him. It had seemed that I'd walked in on a speech.
"Should we let these taxes ruin our live? My wife does not eat; my children do not eat! How can we live such lives? He is not our Tudor rose! I say we rise. We rise to tell our struggles, and if his evil council and vanity defeat us then we will seek another King who is worthy! It has long been whispered that Henry Tudor would make a King worthy of God's grace. Arthur, after all, brought us the sickness. This is God's plan; this is God showing us that he is not fit for kingship!" The man stood proud as his surrounding audience clapped and slammed ales on tables to make noise for his support. I interrupted due to my position as 'servant' to the King, but I knew very well that it was for different reasons.
"What taxes?" I challenged as a hush fell over the crowd. People looked at one another in confusion. They had been too enthralled in the charisma of the man to think properly; too quick to jump on the bandwagon of hate, not that it bothered me. The loud man drew himself up taller as his face contorted into one of disgust.
"I said what taxes?" I repeated. "I am of the King's table. So tell me what taxes and I will explain the necessity of their implementation..." I smirked; I knew this would stump him. "Not speaking much now are we speech giver?" The state of impending silence told me I had taken over the speech.
"And who may it be that I am speaking?" Rattled the man through clenched teeth. The whole Inn turned to face me, keen to hear my response.
"I am the King's son. From what I gather, the reason the taxes are being raised due to your crime rates and false marketing... just as this speech... a false market for people to fund a non-existent cause." I did care much for the King, nor did I care if his kingship was failing, I only intervened so I had a place in the palace to go back to. The King had spies everywhere, none thinking twice before mentioning to him that his bastard had failed to defend his reign. I could tell that it was only a matter of time before people would rise to attack my father's careless expenses. The longer I could delay it, the better for my sake. I smiled to myself while I proceeded to the bar; I had done what I needed to and made it look convincing enough.
"Usual please James," I said while nodding to the man behind the bar. I sat down on a pew to hear the whispers people spoke of my recent presence in the Inn. Mentioning being the son of the King always brought a shock to people; then, of course, followed the whispers of the word 'bastard'. I should count myself lucky really. It was very rare for a King to even recognise a bastard of his own, let alone to allow them to champion that fact such as I just did. But that was what I still was at the end of the day: a bastard; the son of a whore with a King for a father. I couldn't do anything about what I was but use it as a gateway to business and women, which is exactly what I did.
"Well, what a surprise. The King's bastard has graced us with his almighty presence." Boomed the voice of the speech giver. He made an effort to sit next to me and attempt to converse. In fear of what could arise from such seating, the inn's numbers quickly began to dwindle henceforth.
"My name," I started, "is Richard. Not the King's bastard. And I dare say you must be quite successful within your business; had I been a regular commoner. Your word would have fooled me" I complemented into his gaunt face.
"We both know that deep down I am not wrong about the King." The man stated. He took my silence for agreement. "After all..." he continued "I am a Stanley. Let's just say I know what it is like to be a bastard." He stated bitterly. I almost laughed when he told me his name. This situation would not be as hard to manipulate to my benefit as I thought.
"Stanley..." I tested the name out on my tongue. "What a name." I couldn't help but be amused at the proudness in which the man in front of me said his last name. Who could be proud of a name like that?
"You have noble blood I see. It is such a shame then that your family linage is founded on traitors. I must say, you seem to be carrying on the family tradition very well." I tormented.
"I am not a full Stanley. I am sure my father, Sir Thomas Stanley, had no idea that I exist. And never will, as you know, he has been dead rather a long time."
There was no doubt. I did indeed know. So, did everyone in the realm. The brothers were all about living life without loyalty, taking risk purely for their own selfish gain. Their most well regarded 'risk' was turning toward the Tudor side on the final day of the Battle of Bosworth Field. They were painted as heroes by my father and grandfather, but I could see them for the turncoats they were. Men in search of the best outcome, regardless of the treachery and betrayal they left in their wake. Nevertheless, I thought to myself, his history and talent for public speech could come in useful to me. I like to do most of my business here in the capital anyway. I already possess five underground businesses including harlot houses and alcohol. This man could prove a very worthy investment.
"Say, Stanley," I began, knowing his weakness already. "We are both nobles, don't you agree? Let's erase the bastard title for both of us and do some business together." I proposed smugly. Ideas were already racing through my head.
"Business you say?" Stanley contested, hanging onto my every word. I knew already he would agree, I had him exactly where I wanted him.
"Let's just say you have potential, and I can use that, you can get money, even perhaps live up to that noble title of yours. Work with me and it will be an early retirement." I chose my words carefully. His eyes wandered around the room as he thought about the offer. It was clear he was already going to agree, but the logical side of his brain had to ask to satisfy his mere curiosity. The man's eyes wandered around the room, making sure there was no one listening.
"Forgive me but this is rather unexpected, I mean to say you are the son of the King, why would you want to run a business on the side?" Stanley thoughtfully challenged me. At least I can come to the conclusion this man is no fool, even if easily tempted.
"Do you really think a bastard get much from a King apart from a superficial noble job? I am so sick of working with his taxes, his arguments and not even having a say in the matter. There is no reason to even have me there." I added, even though I knew exactly why the King kept me under his employment. "I have watched business my entire life, been trained to negotiate and know damn well what can make a favourable profit. As you say, the King is somewhat of a fool. I know this best. I can pull anything under his nose, and he would be none the wiser." I added, encouraging his decision.
"I dare say you have sold it to me, I suppose I haven't much to lose. What do I need to do?" Questioned Stanley; I smiled.
