Why didn’t JB warn us about this? Jonah wondered. Maybe it was just Jonah, but it seemed like it would have made a lot more sense for JB to tell him and Katherine they could yank Chip and Alex out of time “after Richard offers the crown back,” rather than “after Richard sees them.”
Before Chip could answer, an overwhelming wave of cheers and screams and gasps flew through the crowd, seeming to drown out all other sound. How could all those people have heard what Richard said? Jonah wondered. But they weren’t reacting to Richard’s proclamation. They were reacting to something that had happened out on the battlefield.
“That’s Norfolk. …”
“Norfolk is down. …”
“Norfolk is dead. …”
The news flew through the crowd, one update instantaneously replaced by the next.
Jonah remembered how it was Norfolk’s men that Richard had said he could count on; it was Norfolk’s men that Chip had said were fighting the hardest.
Richard looked stricken.
He scrambled up from his bent knee and back onto his horse. High above the crowd, he could probably see straight out to the battlefield now.
“My friend Norfolk, fallen,” he murmured, a quiver in his voice. “But now his son will take charge. …”
Even Jonah, who knew nothing about medieval battle tactics, could see that Norfolk’s men were disorganized and scattered, unable to forge on without their original leader. A group of soldiers behind yellow banners swept against them, pushing Norfolk’s army back and back and back.
Richard looked down at Chip.
“I must defend the crown I would give you,” he said. “This will be my last act as king. …” He spun his horse around and galloped off.
For a long moment Jonah lost sight of Richard in the chaos. Then the king reappeared in the center of the battle. He was leading a charge all the way across the field, through the thick of the fighting. It was easy to follow his progress because he’d crammed his crown on top of his helmet, and it gleamed in the sunlight. He was the only man on the battlefield wearing a crown.
Richard passed the yellow-bannered troops that had swept away Norfolk’s men; he passed deep into the heart of Henry Tudor’s men. It was an amazing breakaway—no one seemed able to touch him.
And then Richard reached the man carrying Henry Tudor’s dragon banner. The dragon banner plummeted to the ground.
“He killed Henry’s standard-bearer?” Chip murmured in amazement. “He’s that close to killing Henry?”
But a second later it was Richard tumbling to the ground. No, wait, Jonah thought. It’s not Richard who’s hurt. It’s his horse. The horse’s white coat seemed to have turned red. He lay on the ground, unmoving. But Richard was up on his feet, fighting back as Henry Tudor’s men surrounded him.
“That’s the line I remember from the Shakespeare play!” Alex said suddenly. “He’s supposed to say, ‘A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!’”
“Then what happens in Shakespeare?” Jonah asked.
Alex frowned, a contrast to the hopeful face of his tracer.
“Don’t know,” Alex said, but he was distracted, watching the battle.
Richard really did need a horse. He was fighting valiantly, but more and more of his enemies surrounded him, and he couldn’t escape. After a few moments Jonah could no longer see Richard’s helmet or crown or sword because of all the other helmets and swords flashing around him. And then a circlet of gold rolled out of the center of the fighting. Men just stepped back and let it roll.
It was Richard’s crown.
Richard was dead.
THIRTY-FIVE
An eerie silence hung over the battlefield, as if everyone was holding his breath. Then Jonah realized it was only his mind that had blanked out the noise temporarily. Swordsmen were still waving their swords; archers were still launching their arrows. In the thick of the fight they couldn’t see what had happened to the king.
But Chip had.
“My crown!” he screamed. “That’s my crown!”
He dashed forward, dragging Katherine along with him.
“My brother!” Alex yelled behind him, and took off running as well.
“No, stop!” Jonah shrieked. “We’ve got to get you out of here!”
Nobody seemed to hear Jonah, because all of the soldiers around them were surging forward alongside Chip and Alex, battle cries ringing from their throats. Jonah wasn’t sure if the soldiers really wanted to help Chip regain the Crown, or if they were just tired of standing around. But they were all rushing into battle, toward Henry Tudor’s men.
How soon will Chip reach his first opponent? Jonah wondered. JB’s words “You have a very narrow window of opportunity” echoed in Jonah’s mind. Chip and Alex had already been seen by Richard. Richard had had time to ride off into the battle and die. How much time did Chip and Alex have left?
Alex, running, tried to shake Jonah’s arm off his shoulder, the action momentarily separating him from his tracer. Stubbornly Jonah leaped forward, wrapping his arms tighter around Alex’s neck.
“You can talk to him,” Jonah whispered in Alex’s ear. “You can tell him he has to leave.”
“I’ll do what my brother wants me to do,” Alex said, and Jonah couldn’t tell which version of Alex was speaking. Jonah saw no flash of tracer light, but his eyes didn’t seem to be working properly as he jolted along, arrows whizzing past him, swords flying around him. Jonah didn’t think Alex could have progressed very far, weighed down by Jonah on his back; evidently the battle had come to them.
“Chip!” Jonah screamed. “Katherine!”
This was his worst nightmare: He’d lost sight of both his sister and his friend.
What am I going to tell Mom and Dad? he wondered.
Sunlight flashed off a sword several yards ahead of him, blinding him temporarily. The sword slashed the air—and crashed into a sword held by Chip.
“Go help your brother!” Jonah screamed in Alex’s ear.