I am excited to welcome Mercedes Rochelle to my blog with news of The King’s Retribution: Book 2 of The Plantagenet
Legacy. I thoroughly enjoyed A King Under Seige and The King's Retribution is on my tbr list!
If you read A KING UNDER SIEGE, you might remember that we left off just as Richard
declared his majority at age 22. He was able to rise above the humiliation
inflicted on him during the Merciless Parliament, but the fear that it could happen
again haunted him the rest of his life. Ten years was a long time to wait
before taking revenge on your enemies, but King Richard II was a patient man.
Hiding his antagonism toward the Lords Appellant, once he felt strong enough to
wreak his revenge he was swift and merciless. Alas for Richard, he went too
far, and in his eagerness to protect his crown Richard underestimated the very
man who would take it from him: Henry Bolingbroke.
Here is an excerpt to whet your appetite:
Funeral of Robert de Vere
There was another matter weighing heavily on Richard's mind. Sparing no
expense, the king had brought Robert de Vere's embalmed body back from Belgium.
Exactly three years after his beloved friend had been killed in a boar hunt,
Richard put him to rest in his family crypt at Colne Priory, in Essex. He
staged an elaborate funeral, though many of the great lords were conspicuously
absent. The Lords Appellant—with the exception of Mowbray—harbored rancor
toward Robert de Vere that extended far beyond his death. Richard's uncles
chose to ignore the king's eccentric loyalty toward a declared traitor. Even
Thomas Arundel, his own chancellor, had sent his apologies. There was no
mistaking the disrespect: the king noted the absence of every one of
them.
On a late November evening, services began just at the cusp of twilight.
Church bells tolled and swirling black clouds threatened rain. Two by two the
funeral procession wended its way through the narrow streets of Earl's Colne,
spaced perfectly in a seemingly endless column. Each man wore a black robe with
a black hood drawn forward to cover his face. Every one of them carried a torch
with a tiny shield bearing de Vere's arms below each flame. The torches cast a
soft glow as the mourners walked past silent citizens lining the street.
Finally the Archbishop of Canterbury and six other bishops brought up the end
of the cavalcade, swinging incense burners that filled the air with
sweet-smelling smoke. Their appearance signaled the presence of the king, also
robed in black, though instead of a hood he wore a gold crown. He was followed
by five knights: his nephew Thomas Holland, Earl of Kent, his cousin Edward
Earl of Rutland, his half-brother John Holland, Earl of Huntingdon, Thomas de
Mowbray Earl of Nottingham, and John de Montacute Earl of Salisbury. These five
supporters of the king were worthy of note; they were destined to be among his
closest advisors and friends, carefully marshaled to help support his throne.
Never again would Richard be accused of elevating unworthy favorites; only
earls and dukes would grace his inner chamber.
The silent participants filed into the church where the cypress coffin
lay on its bier next to an open grave in the floor near the altar. A row of candles
on tall iron stands threw a circle of light onto the deceased. An unseen choir,
placed behind a curtain, filled the space with soft tones.
As the king entered the church the tolling ceased. He took his place in
a stall topped by a crown and listened while Archbishop Courtney began the
services, echoed by his bishops. The Matins for the Dead were followed by
Nocturnes and Lauds. Then there was the Prayer for Absolution and the
Celebration of the Mass. The candles had burnt to a nub and the air of the
church was cold before Richard was finally able to approach the funeral
bier.
With an expression of tenderness, Richard looked down on his dear
friend. The king had paid for the best embalmer in Brittany, and Robert seemed
to be sleeping before him, his face betraying no evidence of his violent death.
The king gazed at Robert for a long time, toying with a sapphire ring on his
own hand. Blinking rapidly, Richard drew off the ring and lifted Robert's
wrist, pushing the band gently onto his friend's finger. He bent over the
coffin and whispered something for Robert's ears alone.
"Mine eyes have longed to see your face," he said. "I
will never forget you, nor will I rest until we are avenged on those who drove
you from my side. Fear not, dear Robert. My resolve is firm and I would have
you rest in peace."
Although everyone nearby strained to hear what Richard said, no one—even
his closest friends—could decipher the words. But it didn't take a great leap
of faith to guess the meaning of his gestures. Richard's enemies would later
dismiss the legend that had grown from Robert de Vere's funeral services, but
those who witnessed it were never able to shake a sense of foreboding.
All the king lacked was a pair of wings to complete the picture of an
avenging angel.
You can find the books here:
Mercedes
Rochelle
Born in St. Louis MO with a degree from University of
Missouri, Mercedes Rochelle learned about living history as a re-enactor and
has been enamored with historical fiction ever since. A move to New York to do
research and two careers ensued, but writing fiction remains her primary
vocation. She lives in Sergeantsville, NJ with her husband in a log home they
had built themselves.
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