is that, milord."
"Does the drink still loosen his lips?"
"Aye, milord, and that's not the worst of it."
"What do you mean?"
"Sometimes, in his cups, milord, I've heard him say that the Lord Chamberlain is, begging your pardon, milord, 'a worse tyrant than Herod.'"
"The impudent cur."
"Worse is yet to come, milord."
"Speak man, speak."
"I don't like to say, milord."
"Speak."
"Well, milord. After a great many drinks, milord, I have heard him cry out that he is sworn to kill the Lord Chamberlain."
"Kill me?"
"Aye, milord and to send to hell any who try to stop him."
-:-:-
Alone in his office, Burghley worried about Edward. In the early days, it had amused him to play a cat-and-mouse game with his ward, but, of late, Edward's antics had ceased to be a laughing matter. As the unruly youth approached his majority he was becoming harder and harder to control. All Burghley's efforts at discipline had failed. Now he had to endure this latest insult, public threats against his own life.
What if word of Edward's drunken mouthings or disguised wanderings reached Elizabeth's ears? Bested in his own house by his own ward! Such news could easily damage the Lord Chamberlain's reputation. He might have to relinquish his lucrative post as Master of the Wards. Even worse, it could cost him the Queen's respect. After all, how could she trust him to run a country if he couldn't even tame one headstrong youth?
The Lord Chamberlain began pacing nervously. There was an additional consideration; when Edward reached his majority, he would slip even further from Burghley's grasp. He might even develop an interest in finance. For years, Burghley had been quietly moving the bulk of Edward's estates into his own careful, covetous hands. What if the Earl began studying his accounts?
He could voice the discrepancies publicly. This would alert the other noble wards whose estates had fallen into his care. They might begin poring over their finances. What if Edward took his complaints to the Queen? This scenario disturbed the Lord Chamberlain greatly. Burghley decided it was time to rid himself of his troublesome young ward.
The opportunity he had been seeking arose when several northern lords allied themselves with Scotland to usurp Elizabeth's throne. The Queen hastily convened the War Council.
Inside the packed Council Chamber, Burghley addressed the assembled lords, arguing that an army be dispatched north to the border country with all speed.
-:-:-
As usual on security matters, Elizabeth was quick to see the wisdom of Burghley's advice. With her nodding approval, he quickly appointed Lord Sussex head of the army and ordered him to smash the rebels so hard that they would never again threaten England.
As the Council meeting ended, Elizabeth spoke to Burghley privately.
"Are you aware that Sussex's own brother has joined the rebel forces?"
"Yes, Majesty."
"Is it wise to appoint Sussex our Commander-in-Chief when his brother fights against us?"
"Indeed it is, your Majesty. Sussex's appointment assures us a speedy victory."
"Why?"
"He'll fight like a barbarian, intent on atoning for his brother's disloyalty to your Majesty as quickly as possible."
"I see. Thank you, Burghley." The Queen turned to leave the empty Council Chamber.
"If your most gracious Majesty would kindly grant me a moment of your time, there is another pressing matter that I would like to discuss."
"What is it, Burghley?"
"Walsingham's spies have reported that Mary, Queen of Scots, is fomenting this rebellion, Majesty."
"Damn that interfering hussy's eyes!"
"'Tis said that young Thomas Howard, the Duke of Norfolk, is favorable to her cause, your Grace."
"Does he even know her?"
"They may have met secretly at Carlisle last May, Majesty. I am awaiting confirmation of that rumor. My men tell me that he is highly vulnerable to the Scottish Queen's charms..."
"But she has none, Burghley!" snapped Elizabeth in a sudden rage.
"Of course not, Majesty," Burghley agreed. With a polite bow, he began backing away towards the door.
"Wait. What do you counsel?"
"I see no reason for Norfolk not to be called into your Majesty's service in these latest troubles..."
"And die fighting?"
"Or fall prey to some battle camp sickness. We can have Sussex keep a careful eye on him."
"See that he is involved in the hottest part of the fighting, Burghley."
"Of course, Majesty. One final thought, if I may..."
"Yes?"
"His cousin, Oxford..."
Elizabeth nodded. "I met the Earl, years ago, an exceedingly learned lad. He's one of your wards, isn't he Burghley?"
"Oxford was the first boy kindly entrusted into my care by your most gracious Majesty. He and Norfolk are very close. Like his cousin, Oxford's only nominally a Protestant."
"You suspect him of aiding Norfolk?"
"I do," Burghley replied, nodding gravely. "Despite all my efforts, I fear that he is misusing his great learning in defense of the Old Faith."
"How long must we endure such heresies?"
"You may recall that we had the same problem with his father."
"Yes, of course. Does Oxford have a suit of armor?"
"Not yet, Majesty, although the lad is fully grown."
"See that he is fitted with one at once. Then send Oxford to aid his cousin on the battlefield."
"As you wish, Majesty."
-:-:-
In 1570, Edward rode through Aldersgate, the City of London's North gate, and turned his horse's head towards Scotland. His cousin, Thomas Howard, now the third Duke of Norfolk, accompanied him. They rode at the head of 80 gentlemen in livery and 100 yeomen. Each soldier wore Edward's crest, a silver five-pointed star, embroidered onto his tunic. Lumbering wagons loaded with supplies followed behind.
The cousins joined Lord Sussex in the border country between England and Scotland. They found his army camped
