The wind soared and sobbed around Alnwick Castle, whistling falling notes like a horn blowing retreat. At the head of the dining table, Henry Percy had grown darker and darker, his face swelling like a child holding his breath until he fainted.‘Lord Percy, we have common cause,’ Derry reminded him. ‘The queen must find her army where she can, if we are ever to see peace restored.’‘But, the Scots! She might as well deal with the devil himself!’ Henry Percy said. His mouth stayed open as he shook his head, giving him a foolish aspect that made Derry want to smile. He merely waited for the young earl to find calm. To his surprise, it was Somerset who spoke then, a man who could hardly understand the ancestral resentment of those who guarded the borders.‘My lords, Master Brewer, I would accept any force of men, aye, even the French, if it gave us a chance to right these wrongs. I accept my part of the blame for Northampton. If I had known York’s supporters would come north, I would have been there to break them.
