“Your Majesty! Relinquish the Boleyn whore, save your soul!”
All eyes turned upon him. His voice was desperate, sincere, but his message was unacceptable.
“Save your mortal soul. Leave the whore and repent!”
The guards reached him before he could utter any more, and he came not within stone’s throw of the king, but everyone had heard his words. In her seat, Anne remained motionless, chin lifted. Her father put a steadying hand upon her arm, but she did not move or acknowledge it. She was still as a statue, as if the words had not touched her.
Catherine, on the other hand, let out a snort. “I do not imagine this was part of the entertainment.”
The young man was dragged away, still shouting. Henry gestured to the trumpeters, who took up their instruments and drowned him out.
“I have never seen anything like that before,” whispered Ellen.
Thomasin couldn’t help wondering whether it was related to the speech the king had given, inviting people into Bridewell from the streets. He had brought the common people intothe discussion about Anne, and now here was one of them, expressing an opinion.
“What will happen to him?”
“Whipped or branded, probably,” said Lady Essex from behind, “if it is his first offence. Otherwise his tongue will be cut out or he’ll lose his right hand.”
Thomasin shuddered at the barbarity of it. This was exactly what the king had hoped to avoid by making his statement. But what if by confronting the situation head on, he had simply brought it into the open, and there would be more of this? He could not expect to make such huge changes, rejecting his wife, rejecting the Pope, and for his subjects merely to accept them.
Henry was preparing to joust again. The trumpeters announced him, then fell silent as he began to thunder down the track. His opponent, preparing to meet him from the opposite direction, lowered his lance, pointing the tip at the king. There was a clash of wood. The riders parted and continued, both still in the saddle.
“What did that man mean?”
Princess Mary spoke with a loud, clear voice. Thomasin realised she had forgotten about the girl, sitting beside her mother, who had witnessed the entire event.
Catherine was quick to respond. “It was a madman. Nothing more. People say the strangest things about kings and queens; it is of no matter.”
But Mary was thinking. “Of whom did he speak? Who is the Boleyn whore?”
“Hush now, child. He has things muddled in his brain, do not concern yourself over it. Watch, your father is about to ride again.”
For now, Mary obeyed, but Thomasin could tell the thought troubled her. She was a shrewd, intelligent girl despite herchildish appearance, and would not be content to forget about this.
Movement opposite caught her eye. Anne had risen to her feet, as if to leave the platform, although her father appeared to be trying to persuade her to stay.
“Look at that,” whispered Ellen, having noticed the same. “Someone has taken it to heart after all.”
As they watched, Anne shook off her father’s hand and left the stands. Her sister Mary rose and hurried after her, both disappearing from sight.
“So she has run away,” said Ellen.
For the first time, Thomasin wondered about events from Anne’s perspective. Her service to Catherine left her in no doubt about her loyalty to her queen, and she had witnessed the terrible suffering that this heartbreaking situation had inflicted. But she admitted, grudgingly, it could not be easy for Anne. Forever waiting, unable to move forward, the subject of gossip and scandal. If she truly loved the king, truly believed the royal marriage invalid, it must be torture for Anne, too. Thomasin shook her head, as if she could shake away the thought. Enough! It would not do to feel sympathy for the woman. Anne had walked into this situation and could walk away again if she chose. The queen, married for almost twenty years, was involved through no choice or fault of her own.
The trumpets sounded and the jousters rode again.
After the final bell had sounded, prizes had been awarded and the jousters had ridden their lap of honour, Queen Catherine rose to her feet. With Princess Mary at her side, she made her way off the stands, in the direction of the king. Thomasin and Ellen joined those hurrying after her.
Henry was removing his armour inside one of the tents. The attendants bowed and moved aside for the queen and princess.Charles Brandon, standing in the doorway, called to the king, who emerged still in his breastplate, his face flushed and his eyes invigorated.
Catherine made a deep curtsey. “My lord, we come to offer our congratulations on an excellent entertainment. I have never seen you ride so well, and it touched my heart, because you did so for our daughter. Mary was thrilled to see you compete in her name.”
It was a clever speech, designed to build on Anne’s absence and tug at his heartstrings.
Henry nodded, caught off guard. He spoke directly to the princess. “I am glad you enjoyed the entertainment.”
“Ever so much.” Mary smiled.
