Alex Marchant's Blog, page 27
September 10, 2018
Library visit
This year has definitely been a year of ‘firsts’ for me.
In three weeks time it will be a year since my first novel, The Order of the White Boar, was published, and it’s difficult to believe that the year has gone so quickly. My first sequel of course came out in May this year. And I’ve attended my first medieval festivals to sell the books, undertaken my first public talks and readings, my first video-recorded/podcast question & answer session, my first online Q&A for a reading group, my first school visits with my books.
This coming weekend, Saturday 15th September, will be my first library visit as a solo author. I’m delighted to be suporting a local community library, at Denholme in West Yorkshire, where I’ll be doing a short talk about King Richard, a reading or two, and a Q&A – and running a colouring competition for any children who come along (or indeed adults, if they wish! After all, who could resist the chance to colour in pictures of good King Richard, his lady wife, Queen Anne, or any of the other characters in my books? As usual at my events, pictures are courtesy the fabulous ‘The Wars of the Roses Colouring Book’ by Debra Bayani and Dmitry Yakhovsky: https://www.facebook.com/events/2261870310509060/?notif_t=aymt_upsell_tip¬if_id=1536411889320007)
If you are in the area, please do call in and say hello.
https://www.facebook.com/events/2261870310509060/?notif_t=aymt_upsell_tip¬if_id=1536411889320007
http://www.keighleynews.co.uk/news/16696037.meet-the-author-event-at-denholme-community-library/
September 7, 2018
Honourable Mention from #DiscoveringDiamonds #DDRevs for cover of ‘The Order of the White Boar’
Now I’m pleased to announce that the design of the cover of ‘The Order’ has been recognized with an ‘Honourable Mention’ in Discovering Diamonds’ Cover of the Month contest for August 2018.
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Very many thanks to Olly Bennett at MoreVisual for his stunning work and the Discovering Diamonds for the recognition.
Full details can be found at https://discoveringdiamonds.blogspot.com/p/cover-of-month.html
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myBook.to/WhiteBoar and mybook.to/TheKingsMan
Bosworth 1485 – Mark II
The joys of alternative history: my latest blog post for Mary Anne Yarde’s ‘Myths, Legends, Books and Coffee Pots:
https://maryanneyarde.blogspot.com/2018/09/bosworth-1485-mark-ii-by-alex-marchant.html
August 24, 2018
“Full of action and adventure…”
In the week in which the sad events of the Battle of Bosworth are remembered, I’m pleased to say the second book in my series telling the last years in the life of King Richard III has been reviewed in the Richard III Society Bulletin.
[Yes, this is June’s issue, not September’s, but I can’t find an image of the latter at the moment!]
The same reviewer who called ‘The Order of the White Boar’ ‘a wonderful work of historical fiction for both children and adults’, says that ‘The King’s Man’ is:
“full of action, adventure and determination to succeed … well researched, with lots of historical fact … beautifully suited to ‘children’ between 8 and 108 … The narrative unfolds swiftly and Marchant keeps the pace moving along, just as events at that time developed quickly … I look forward to the third book in the series…” 
Both books are available in ebook and paperback and on Kindle Unlimited – and ‘The Order of the White Boar’ has once again become an Amazon no. 1 Bestseller!
myBook.to/WhiteBoar and mybook.to/TheKingsMan
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August 22, 2018
#OnThisDay 1485
On this day, 533 years ago . . .
Matthew Wansford wakes on Redemore plain…
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“The moon was setting. Almost full, it rested a moment on a far-off hill. But it wasn’t the great gold coin of other nights. Its gleam was tinged red.
‘Blood moon,’ muttered one of the guards as it slid down behind the dark bulk of the hill and soon was lost from sight.
I shivered.
He spat on the ground.
‘Bad tidings for the traitor.’
A camp fire flared before a nearby tent, then another further off.
‘Not long till sunrise, I reckon,’ said the second guard.
He grasped my shoulder, turning me around and pointing. A thick grey line sketched the outline of trees on the other horizon. The tentative call of a bird broke the silence, another chirruping in answer. ‘Time to wake His Grace?’
Slipping back through the flap, I rolled up my mattress and blanket, then felt my way across the pitch-dark tent. At the table, I fumbled in my pouch for my tinderbox, and struck a light on a candle in its gilded holder.
I shielded the flickering flame with my hand and, with Murrey a lithe shadow at my heel, approached the King’s fabric-shrouded bed.
He was sleeping still, his head upon an embroidered linen pillow, an arm outflung across the fine cloth of his coverlet. In the pool of candlelight his face was younger than I had ever seen before, the lines smoothed away by sleep.
For the briefest moment the face of his son, poor Ed – not glimpsed for two years – swam before my eyes. Then my dream came back to me.
My hand shook and the candle flame quivered. Murrey whined, her dark eyes liquid in the candlelight as they gazed up at me. The fingers of my free hand twined themselves in the tufted fur of her head.
The King’s eyes opened, then narrowed at me, bending over him.
‘Matthew?’
‘My lord, it is time to rise.’
I drew back, pulling Murrey with me.
He eased himself off the bed, then reaching for a thick fur mantle upon a nearby chair, swung it around his shoulders and strode towards the tent’s entrance. As he tugged the flap aside, the guards stamped to attention. He bid them a quiet good morning as he passed.
I trailed after him, still clutching Murrey’s collar. The metal fleur-de-lys stitched there was cold against my hand. I recalled old King Edward buckling the leather strap around her neck as I stepped forward to stand beside his brother.
We gazed out at the camp as it began to stir.
Before us, grey ranks of tents marched down the dark hillside, swallowed up by the pool of mist gathered on its lower slopes. In the distance only the tips, their pennons limp in the windless air, poked above the milky depths.
Among the nearer tents, ghostly figures glided, their calls, laughs, greetings to their fellows floating to us above the wreathing mist. Here and there the comforting glow of camp fires. I could see cooking pots hung over the hot coals of the closest.
Far to our right, men were busy among rows of horses, feeding and watering. Again the clang, clang, clang of hammer on metal, but this time I did not heed it. Instead I watched King Richard as his gaze swept across the awakening camp.
A chill still cut the air. As the King gathered his fur cloak about him, I longed for my blanket but did not move to retrieve it.
A serving man scurried up and knelt before the King.
‘Your Grace? Do you wish me to waken your chaplains?’
‘Aye, and my lords Norfolk and Lovell, if they are still abed. Also Lord Strange. We shall take Mass together this morning.’
The man hurried off and we were silent once more.
Rooks cawed in distant trees. Above our heads, the last sparks of the stars were fading as the greyish light grew in the east.
Then the King spoke.
‘Well, Matt, what do you think of your first battle camp?’…”
Requiescat in pace Ricardus Rex
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August 21, 2018
#Bosworth2018 – and King Richard wins!
What a remarkable weekend! I think the Bosworth Medieval Festival 2018 will go down in history. Well, at least in my personal history. It certainly was memorable for those who were able to attend. Perhaps particularly as it was the first ever time that the event had staged an alternative to the usual straightforward battle re-enactment.
Alternative history isn’t to everyone’s taste. But I got the impression that very many people at the festival this past weekend would prefer that history had actually gone the way that it was portrayed on Saturday and Sunday mornings from 11 o’clock.
Headline news: King Richard III has won the Battle of Bosworth… twice. Huzzah!
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Not for the purists perhaps, but the cheers for King Richard’s victory over the craven pretender Henry Tudor were as loud as the boos that usually accompany his more ‘traditional’ defeat when it’s staged in the afternoon. I suspect Ricardians and Yorkists outnumber Lancastrians and Tudorites at this and other festivals – as I’m sure they do in real life! Who wouldn’t rather support the dashing York brothers, and the maligned, ill-fated King Richard, rather than the cowardly, miserly Tudor and his traitorous allies?
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King Richard fighting manfully in the front line
Uncertain quite what to expect – would Northumberland actually show up this time? Or would the Stanleys charge to King Richard’s assistance as he advanced on Tudor to end the battle? – we watched with anticipation. As the King mustered his troops ready to advance, the Earl of Northumberland sauntered up with a stool and jugs of drink and various comestibles – a veritable picnic to accompany what he intended no doubt to be a fine view of the coming battle … which he had no intention of joining, of course.
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Until the Stanleys had a moment of collective insanity, which brought the spectators new hope. They started to advance their troops on . . . none other than the Earl of Northumberland’s men.
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Chaos ensued of course, and in the fierce fighting (I guess the Earl abandoned his repast quite quickly), Sir William Stanley was felled – fatally (cue cheers!).
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The clash of the armies at last left Henry Tudor exposed – well behind the main body of his troops of course (that was one thing the ‘alternative’ version didn’t change – it didn’t somehow make Tudor into a warrior who was going to fight on to his last breath in his attempt to steal the throne from King Richard).
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Henry Tudor, waiting at the back, with a couple of French mercenaries. A somewhat elderly gentleman in this version….
It was a doddle for King Richard and his loyal companions then. No need for a cavalry charge this time – they simply strolled across the field to Tudor on foot, past the otherwise occupied Stanley forces.
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In minutes the craven pretender was surrounded. A few of his troops dropped back to try and protect him, but most didn’t seem very interested – perhaps not particularly devoted to his (now lost) cause – certainly not enough to risk their own lives.
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It wasn’t long before the banner of the Dragon of Cadwallader had fallen. Tudor was taken alive. He didn’t fall fighting manfully in the thickest press of his enemies. Not that you would have expected that, of course…
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Tudor is defeated. Long live King Richard!
The traitor was last seen being herded off the field by King Richard himself, to languish in the Tower of London, presumably until he could be tried and beheaded for his treacherous crimes.
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And what of Lord Stanley, traitor extraordinaire? He was given a good kicking by the victorious troops (cue more cheers!)
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Stanley grovelling as the boot goes in. The Earl of Northumberland saunters off, his job well done (for a change).
Ever magnanimous in victory, good King Richard refrained from topping Lord Stanley on sight (but he did also land a stealthy kick when he thought no one was looking….)
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A right regal kick for Stanley
After all that the ‘real’ battle was always going to a bit of a downer. But it was still worth watching. But I don’t need to offer the details here as they’re pretty well known. I’ll just offer up a few representative photos and some others from around the festival.
To read more about good King Richard, and the story of the real Battle of Bosworth, go to: myBook.to/WhiteBoar and mybook.to/TheKingsMan
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Three Ricardian authors: Alex Marchant, Marla Skidmore and J. P. Reedman
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A happy young buyer and soon-to-be-Ricardian (hopefully!)
The eve of battle…
21st August is a solemn day for supporters of King Richard III. The final day before the fateful Battle of Bosworth.
He will have known the battle was imminent. His scouts and spies will have tracked the movements of Henry Tudor’s army through the English Midlands to Merevale and the plain of Redemore. After mustering in the town of Leicester, the King will have led his own forces out towards the pretender’s advance, aiming to cut off his route towards the capital.
Matthew Wansford, of course, being ‘keen to serve and so full of youthful foolishness’, follows his King to Leicester, catching up with the royal army at its camp on the evening of the 21st. And there, using the silver boar badge that King Richard gave him in thanks for his service and the excuse of a letter sent by his new master in London, Matt finds his way into the King’s presence.
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The Bosworth Boar badge
To the boy’s surprise, Richard dismisses his gentlemen, and Matt is left alone with his King.
“He stood before me, his hand out-thrust.
I fumbled in my pouch for Master Ashley’s letter. As I drew it out, a sudden pang of guilt griped at me. How dare I, a mere apprentice, lie and cheat my way into the presence of my King?
I dropped to my knees, passing the small square of parchment to him with my head lowered.
He murmured his thanks and moved away to the table. The tiny crack of the wax seal breaking reached my ears, then the crackle of unfolding parchment.
A short silence. Then,
‘But this is to Master Kendall. Why are you wasting my time, boy?’
His voice was sharp.
I hung my head still, waiting for his rebuke. Why had I been so stupid?
But then came his familiar bark of a laugh.
‘And just asking that you be found a job here.’ Relief washed through me at his change of tone. ‘Away from any danger, of course.’
My cheeks burned again and my fists curled into balls. Despite my earlier self-reproach, I leapt to my feet, ready to protest.
The King was leaning back against the table, watching me levelly, a half-smile on his lips.
‘Nay, boy, do not be so quick to anger. Your master asks John to find you a job wherever you may be useful to me – as you are so keen to serve and so full of youthful foolishness. But, for himself, Master Ashley asks that you be kept from harm as he has many uses for you.’
I was not so used to his gentle mocking ways as I had once been and I jibbed at the words.
‘Do not heed him, Your Grace. I want to serve you in the battle – I know it is coming.’
‘Yes, it’s coming. Tomorrow – did you know that?’
‘Tomorrow?’
I swallowed, but found my throat dry. I had seen the camp, the soldiers, the weapons, but had no idea the battle would be so soon.
The King, however, appeared untroubled.
‘Aye. Tudor and his forces are just a few miles from here, at Merevale my scouts tell me. Tomorrow we shall meet face to face with our armies at our backs.’”
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August 20, 2018
Coming soon….
With my apologies to anyone waiting for book 3 of The Order of the White Boar, this isn’t an announcement of its imminent arrival! Rather it’s to share notice of the forthcoming biography of King Richard III by Matthew Lewis.
To be published on 15th September, it’s entitled Richard III: Loyalty Binds Me, and is the first full biography of the King in years that isn’t afraid to challenge the myth that was created in the decades after his death. If Matthew’s blogs over the years are anything to go by, this book will leave no stone unturned and no source unquestioned.
I’ll be clearing the decks of books to make sure I can start reading this the day it arrives. (And if you could see the state of my desk, you’d know that’s going to be a mammoth task – but it’ll be worth the effort.)
Full details can be found on Matt’s Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/MattLewisAuthor/
and on Amazon at: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Richard-III-Loyalty-Binds-Me/dp/1445671549
August 16, 2018
Two days to go… #Bosworth2018
Just two days to go until the Bosworth medieval festival begins, and this will probably be my last post before heading off back into the fifteenth century – away from all this newfangled technology…
This will be my first visit to the battlefield, and the festival, since I finished writing and then publishing The King’s Man. My last visit was in 2015, when I was very moved to see the commemoration of all the men killed at the battle by so many people, laying roses of both white and red.
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I was also touched by the reading of Carol Ann Duffy’s poem Richard by Philippa Langley, to whom it was dedicated after King Richard’s reburial earlier that year. (See below.)
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That poem inspired a particular scene in The King’s Man which occurs not far from the site of this reading, and also prompted a leit-motif that occurs throughout both books of Matthew’s story. It also provides the foundations for a significant event that will happen in the third book…
Three years ago I had to leave before witnessing the re-enactment of the battle. (For family reasons, not because I couldn’t face it – after all, it might have been very useful for deciding how to depict the battle in my book!) But it turned out to be a particularly memorable re-enactment. Spectators cheered on King Richard’s final charge – knowing as always that, sadly, their support couldn’t change the outcome – and as the King was unhorsed, lightning flared and thunder resounded around the battlefield, before the heavens opened and torrents of rain poured down.
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(Thanks to Matt Lewis for the pic.)
Some people saw it as some sort of sign. Particularly in the year of King Richard’s reinterment. Whatever the case, I was sorry to have missed it.
This year, of course, something different is planned – not only a ‘What if?’ discussion of what might have happened if Richard had won his victory that day, but also an enactment of the battle as though he had. That will be worth missing the earlier version. And I know which outcome I’d rather be witness to.
A York, A York! For Richard and England!
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Richard by Carol Ann Duffy
My bones, scripted in light, upon cold soil,
a human braille. My skull, scarred by a crown,
emptied of history. Describe my soul
as incense, votive, vanishing; your own
the same. Grant me the carving of my name.
These relics, bless. Imagine you re-tie
a broken string and on it thread a cross,
the symbol severed from me when I died.
The end of time – an unknown, unfelt loss –
unless the Resurrection of the Dead …
or I once dreamed of this, your future breath
in prayer for me, lost long, forever found;
or sensed you from the backstage of my death,
as kings glimpse shadows on a battleground.
August 15, 2018
Three days to go… #Bosworth2018
If you’re visiting Bosworth this weekend, be sure to track down this clutch of Ricardian authors waiting patiently to regale you with their tales at various points during the days!
Hope to see you there!
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The programme of talks/readings is as follows:
FREE 15 Minute Book Readings in the Cabins.
Saturday 18th August:
10:00 am – Harry Tomkinson: Treachery on Bosworth Field (Boar Cabin)
1:00 pm – Alex Marchant: The Order of the White Boar (Eagle Cabin)
2:15 pm – Marla Skidmore: Renaissance (Eagle Cabin)
3:45 pm – JP Reedman: A Man Who Would Be King (Eagle Cabin)
Sunday 19th August
10:00 am – JP Reedman: I, Richard Plantagenet (Eagle Cabin)
1:00 pm – Marla Skidmore: Renaissance (Eagle Cabin)
2:15 pm – Harry Tomkinson: Treachery on Bosworth Field (Boar Cabin)
3:45 pm – Alex Marchant: The Order of the White Boar (Eagle Cabin)
A valid Bosworth Medieval Festival ticket is required for these talks.
Spaces are limited and are on a first come, first served basis.
