Title: THE KING’S RETRIBUTION
Author: MERCEDES ROCHELLE
Genre: HISTORICAL FICTION
Book Blurb:
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.
Excerpt:
Her eyes fluttered open. "Richard," she said faintly. "Something is very wrong with me. I think I'm dying."
"Shh. Don't speak so."
She took an uneven breath. "Call a priest, my dear. Don't let me die unshriven."
"That won't be necessary. But don't fret. As you wish." He turned, beckoning to one of the ladies. "Summon the queen's confessor."
The maid ran from the room and he put an arm around her shoulders. "Now tell me, are you in pain?"
She nodded. "Down here." She put a hand on her lower belly. "I don't know what it is. Oh." A quick intake of breath alarmed Richard more than anything else. He stroked her hair. "Your priest is coming. He will pray for you."
"Listen to me," she gasped. "If I am gone, you mustn't lose your faith. I will be watching over you."
"Shh. You are not going anywhere."
The priest hastened into the room and knelt beside the bed. "Your Grace, I'm here." The king watched in disbelief while the last rites were given. As the minutes dragged on, her eyes got heavier and heavier, her breath even more labored; her voice shrunk to a whisper. The priest crossed himself, then kissed a crucifix, handing it to her. She placed it against her chest and closed her eyes.
"I thank you," Richard said. "I don't know why she thought she needed you. I will watch over her this night."
"God will watch over her, too, sire. I will pray for her."
Anne's breathing was even, so Richard leaned against the wall, prepared for a long night. She slept for a while then woke with a moan. Startled awake, Richard leaned over her.
"Hold me," she whispered.
Taking her into his arms, he murmured endearments. She put her hand on his cheek and sighed. But she didn't breathe in again.
Richard waited, terrified. He gave her a little shake and her hand fell to the pillow.
"Anne. Anne. Wake up." He shook her again and her head dropped to the side. "Anne. Don't leave me. Don't go." His voice was more insistent, but there was no response. "You can't leave me. You can't. I can't live without you." He held her tight, to no avail. Sobbing, he laid her back against the pillows.
Concerned, Anne's maids slipped into the room. He didn't notice them. Patting her on the face, Richard kept trying to revive her. "Wake up. Come back to me."
One of the ladies ran for the physician while the others gathered around the bed. Richard finally raised his head, tears streaming down his face. "It can't be. She can't be dead."
Master Pol stood in the doorway, unwilling to enter. "Come in, man," Richard growled. "You couldn't save her but at least you can determine whether she has fainted or has truly passed on."
The doctor knelt at the bedside and pulled a feather from his pouch, holding it in front of her nose. No movement. He lifted her eyelids, felt for her pulse, and turned to Richard with professional restraint. "God has taken her from us," he said sadly.
"It can't be true. You must bring her back. She can't be dead. We were just walking together in the garden."
By now, others had gathered inside the room. "Did she have the plague?" someone whispered.
"Who said that!" the king cried, whirling around. "Who dares speak so?"
The witnesses took a step back. Why else would she have died so suddenly?
"There is no one here with the plague!" Richard insisted. "No one!" Turning back to his wife, he took her hand in his. He could no longer deny what was obvious to everyone else. Throwing his head back, Richard let out a wail so chilling, that for a moment the others doubted his sanity. Then he threw himself on her body, taking her back into his arms and lifting her against his chest. "No! No!" he kept crying, over and over.
Nobody knew what to do. Richard had no one to console him. Everyone who had once been close to him had died, leaving the queen as his only companion. Queen Anne was his friend, his love, and his partner. She alone knew how to calm him when he was angry, to comfort him when he was sad, to laugh at his jokes and cry at his pain. And now she was no more and he was devastated.
Still weeping, he laid her back down. He knelt on the floor and leaned on the bed, burying his face in her hair. “My life is over,” he sobbed. “What am I going to do?” The others watched him in silence.
Finally Thomas Percy, his steward, came into the chamber. He slipped over to the king and put both arms around his shoulders, whispering into his ear. Richard nodded, allowing himself to be pulled away. The growing crowd parted for the two of them.
Thomas rowed Richard back to the palace. The king was mostly unresponsive, and Thomas knew the best thing would be to give him a quiet place to grieve. He attended Richard by himself, helping him undress and ordering a sleeping draught, which the king took unresistingly. Lying down, Richard put his hands over his face.
"Let this all be a bad dream," he said, his voice muffled. "Or let me never wake up."
Pausing at the door, Thomas looked into the darkened room. His heart went out to this unhappy king. Richard was only twenty-seven years old, and once again he was alone. Anne was unable to give him children. His father died when Richard was only nine. His grandfather was feeble at the end of his life and barely recognized him. His mother was gone these last ten years. Before Richard was even twenty the Lords Appellant destroyed what friendships he was able to cobble together. How does a man find consolation when he has no peers?
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What makes your featured book a must-read?
Shakespeare gives us the dramatic end to Richard II’s life in his play by the same name. But what prompted the infamous tournament between Henry Bolingbroke and Thomas Mowbray? There’s a fascinating lead-up to this climax which was never touched upon by the great bard, but it’s a story worth telling. Richard’s calculated retribution against the men who ruined his life was thorough, and might even have been successful had he not succumbed to his own fears that led him into tyranny and, eventually, his own usurpation.
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Author Biography:
Mercedes Rochelle is an ardent lover of medieval history, and has channeled this interest into fiction writing. Her first four books cover eleventh-century Britain and events surrounding the Norman Conquest of England. The next series is called The Plantagenet Legacy about the struggles and abdication of Richard II, leading to the troubled reigns of the Lancastrian Kings. She also writes a blog: HistoricalBritainBlog.com to explore the history behind the story. Born in St. Louis, MO, she received by BA in Literature at the Univ. of Missouri St.Louis in 1979 then moved to New York in 1982 while in her mid-20s to “see the world”. The search hasn’t ended! Today she lives in Sergeantsville, NJ with her husband in a log home they had built themselves.
Social Media Links:
Website: https://mercedesrochelle.com/
Twitter: https://x.com/authorrochelle
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Mercedes-Rochelle/author/B001KMG5P6