Read Ravenspur: Rise of the Tudors for Free Online Page B

buried in a churchyard, but instead to suffer alive and in hell for all eternity, damned in this world and set afire in the next.’
    The threats were all for the men who glared through the doorway at Elizabeth. When she was certain they would not dare to follow, only then, she turned and left, vanishing into the gloom. The pangs of birth began before she had gone a dozen yards and she had to stifle a cry before they heard.
    ‘I will not forgive Edward for this,’ Elizabeth hissed as her mother took her arm and tried to support some part of her weight. ‘Where is he, the cursed fool?’
    ‘Shh, my hen. Your husband will be doing all he can against these armies, you know it. Such a fine man! You are safe now; that is what matters.’
    Her mother had been resting a palm on the bulge of Elizabeth’s womb as they walked deeper into the fortress of Sanctuary. With a gasp, she pulled it back as if she had been stung.
    ‘Is the child … ?’
    ‘Coming? Yes, I think so. It was the running, wrenching at him.’
    To Elizabeth’s surprise, her mother chuckled.
    ‘Your big husband
deserves
a son. I pray it is a boy. Now, I will send that monk for the Abbot. We will need a midwife and a private room for the child to be born.’
    ‘I am afraid,’ Elizabeth said, her voice breaking.
    ‘Why? Have I not had fourteen children born alive? I know as much as any midwife, my pigeon.’
    ‘It is the strangeness of this place. It is so cold and dark.’
    They had reached a door and Jacquetta guided her daughter through it, not caring what they would find as long as there was more light than in the corridor. The noise of Elizabeth’s daughters grew as they entered a wood-walled study, comfortable and smelling of polish, tallow and sweat.
    ‘This will do, I think,’ Jacquetta said. ‘And this place is not so strange. Remember it is consecrated ground, my love. To be born in Sanctuary must be a very great blessing.’ Elizabeth gasped as another tightening came, giving herself over to her mother’s care.

3
    With bustling market crowds on either side, Jasper Tudor jumped down from his horse and walked away without looking back. A red-faced butcher shouted that he couldn’t just leave his horse in the middle of the bloody road, but was ignored.
    ‘Follow me, lad,’ Jasper called over his shoulder. ‘Quick now.’ Henry tossed his reins to the butcher, seeing the man’s small eyes swim with confusion and bad temper.
    ‘Oy! You can’t … Hey!’ Henry dismounted quickly, determined not to lose his uncle in the crowds. Jasper was already getting ahead, his long-limbed stride and grim expression parting the early-morning traders of Tenby. They were everywhere as the sun rose, carrying trays of hot bread or baskets of fish brought in from the first catch of the day. They seemed to sense Jasper would go through or over them if they didn’t move sharply.
    Henry heard new shouts behind him, different to the traders’ cries, rising in excitement as if hunters had him in sight. He ducked his head and hunched his shoulders, making himself small. He had assumed they were safe in the crowds. Cobbles were no help to trackers, after all. He felt his stomach twist in fear when he looked back and saw the bobbing heads of men in mail with swords drawn. Cries of outrage and a clatter of falling stalls seemed close on his heels. Henry imagined he could feel the first hand clapping him on the shoulder and bringing him to a halt.
    There was still a very good chance they would both be killed, he forced himself to admit, just as he had begun tofeel they would escape. With his life in peril, there was no room for wishes and fantasies. He could not allow that form of weakness, that had poor men dreaming of justice even as they walked up the steps to the scaffold, even as the rope rasped against their necks. He would not be such a fool. Those chasing them were brutal, remorseless men. He knew they would rather go back to the earl with a broken body