Volunteering the Dark: a story

(This story was written in response to a challenge to write something with a title created by selecting random verbs and nouns. The three titles on offer were "Volunteering the Dark", "Feeding the Cottage" and "Running the Zoo".)

Volunteering the Dark

Conversations in the afterlife tend to be a mixture of “if onlys” and “wasn’t I greats?” That is certainly the case when Richard III and Henry V get chatting, as in the instance related here.

Richard was bemoaning his fate, as he had done ever since his despatch at the Battle of Bosworth in 1485.

“And the ignominy – the disgrace – of having my remains dug out of a council car park in Leicester. A council car park!”

“To be fair”, said Henry, “it wasn’t always a council car park, on the grounds that for most of your centuries of incarceration there weren’t any cars.”

“That’s true”, said Richard.

“It was probably a council horse and cart park before then”, Henry offered, although this didn’t seem to do much to calm Richard’s mood.

“And look at you”, the latter said, “buried in a magnificent tomb in Westminster Abbey, alongside all the great and the good. That’s where I should be. Nothing wrong with Leicester Cathedral, of course, but it’s not Westminster Abbey.”

“On the other hand,” said Henry, “my mortal remains have to share the same building as your old sparring partner Henry VII. God – how he goes on and on about getting the better of you. You’re better off where you are, I can tell you.”

“And another thing,” said Henry, “When his son Henry VIII came along, some vandal stole the head of my effigy. If only you could have won your battle, I’d still be in one piece.”

“I would love to have won my battle”, said Richard. “Just like you did at Agincourt.”

“Do you want to know why you lost and I won?” asked Henry. “There’s one simple answer to that.”

“Which is?”

“Intelligence”, said Henry. “Something I had and you didn’t”.

“There’s no need to be insulting about it” said Richard.

“Oh, don’t take it the wrong way, “said Henry. “I’m not being personal. I meant military intelligence.”

“Oh that”, said Richard. “What do you mean, exactly?”

“I knew what was going on before my battle started and you didn’t. That’s because I sent out spies to get me the information about what I was up against.”

“So did I”, said Richard.

“And how many came back alive?” asked Henry.

“In round numbers?”

“Round numbers”.

“In round numbers”, said Richard, “approximately none.”

“Exactly”, said Henry. “None. So you hadn’t a clue what your enemy was up to. And you knew even less about what side your supposed allies were on, either.”

“Point taken”, said Richard.

“Your main problem”, said Henry, “was the way you recruited your spies. Presumably you asked for volunteers?”

“Of course”, said Richard.

“And how many came forward?”

“In round numbers?” asked Richard.

“Oh, not that one again”, said Henry. “You mean none, don’t you?”

“Indeed”, said Richard.

“So presumably you tried the line that I did, and every leader of men has done from time immemorial?”

“You mean”, said Richard, “I want three volunteers – you, you and you”.

“Precisely”, said Henry.

“I’ve always wondered why we bother asking for volunteers at all”, said Richard. “Why don’t we just grab the first three idiots we find and tell ‘em what to do?”

“It’s so that we can tell their widows that they died heroically rather than just as cannon fodder”, said Henry.

“Oh yes”, said Richard. “I’d forgotten that.”

“But”, he went on, “that doesn’t explain why your volunteers succeeded and mine did not.”

“Describe the men you sent as spies”, said Henry.

“Oh”, said Richard. “They were fine upstanding young men, dressed in bright tunics that showed they were proud ambassadors of their king, ready to do their duty to their rightful monarch.”

“That’s where you went wrong”, said Henry. “My volunteers were nothing like that”.

“How so?” asked Richard.

“I sent my men out at night”, said Henry. “I made them blacken their faces with mud – there was plenty of that at Agincourt – and dress in dark costumes. Nobody saw them as they approached the enemy camp and they were able to take as long as they needed to make a full assessment of the French forces before slipping away and reporting back to me. Your spies, on the other hand, would have been spotted a mile away and promptly despatched. Do you now see why I won and you didn’t?”

“I’m beginning to”, said Richard.

“You see”, said Henry, “when you volunteer your spies the secret lies not in volunteering the bright young things in your army but in volunteering the dark”.

© John Welford