They think that they can race back up, hit the line of Yorks, be like a new army. They'll terrify the Yorks. But what they don't know, as they charge up through the mist, is that they hit Lancaster, not York.
In the mist, the Lancastrians see not Oxford's Streaming Sun banner, but the Sun in Splendour of the Yorks. By the time, they realise who it really is, Oxford has killed many men.
The Lancastrians try to fall back, regroup and see see Oxford.
"Treason, treason!" they call. "You have turned your coat. You fight for York now, not Lancaster. Traitor, treason."
And they kill Oxford and as many of his men as they find.
The mist only gets worse, terrifying worse; men run in all directions. Well, the York men don't, but the Lancastrians do. They run as fast as they can. Many as killed, or drown in the river. Barnet, that night, was a sea of blood, of bodies.
Among them is Warwick's. He will make no more Kings.
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I am Richard III
Historical FictionRanked #562 and #729 in historical fiction Richard III, murder, tyrant, evil and the very meaning of Chivalry. You know him, right? A man who Henry Tudor had every right to take the throne off. Well no, that's just the rumours you know. Richard ha...
