The events of chapter 7 align neatly with early 1478 of our history; this is confirmed both by the child marriage of Edward's son (p184) and by George's execution (p195). And chapter 10 occurs nearly two years after that (p276), which places it in late 1479.
Chapters 8 and 9 each span the two-year period of 1478 and 1479, as Dimi and Gregory run around Scotland, and Hywel and Cynthia run around Wales. Those chapters have few cues to their length; it is clear they each last at least half a year, but not that a full two years go by. However, this chronology is the only way to make chapters 7 and 10 consistent.
Morton began his spell on Halloween of 1479, but it did not afflict Edward for "a little time" -- p258. And then the King might have lingered for a few days before dying, as he did in our world. His death was after Albany's, which was in November (p210), but not much later (p268-269). And he didn't live till January, because it is still December in chapter 11 (p289). Thus, Edward died in late November or early December of 1479.
Gregory von Bayern watched from the side of the hall [...]
"Lord Hastings states," Richard said, holding the letter with its heavy seals dangling, "that he has sent word to Earl Rivers, with Prince Edward in the Marches of Wales, persuading him to show good faith in the public peace by accompanying the Prince to London with no more than a thousand men... a force which Hastings further says he is confident we can match or exceed."
Individual fealty versus collective loyalty: Gregory had seen them in tension wherever he had gone.
Suddenly pleased he had thought of it, he pulled half a dozen pins and stuck them inside his baggy sleeve. [...]
He was at the center of a whole little economy of pins.
"Elayne?" he said, for her benefit; he could see her clearly. She was wearing a clean apron and cap over her gown and kirtle, cloth slippers on her rather large feet.
He wondered again which of Richard's horsemen had cast her off, left her crying in the kitchen; she would not give his name, fearing one man's wrath, or the other's. Doubtless Dimitrios would know, but since the Scottish disaster Dimi had been too busy for conversation.
The Minnesänger whined that love was a hunger, and men perished from its want. That was shit, Gregory thought. Blood was his hunger, and if he wanted for it long enough he would not pine away but lose his reason, probably kill, until he was fed.
Minnesingers are a German troubador tradition, of songs about love. See p173.
Gregory's narrative voice is uncharacteristically bitter and emotional here. Presumably it is a note of self-contempt coming through, as he confronts his hunger.
He took a pin from the sleeve of his coat, thinking, Here are two commodities whose markets I control.
Pins, that is, and blood. See p266.
Another required three repetitions of the message before saying "Well, fancy that of the Duke of York, an' un so young... So wise so young da'n't live long, they say."
He unknowingly foreshadows the deaths of Edward's children.
[...] he looked toward the center of the city, at the dome of the Pantheon. It was not a spherical dome, such as that of the Eastern City's Kyklos Sophia, but a cone of twelve triangular panels.
This Pantheon would be the equivalent of the Cathedral of York in our world. Ours, however, does not have a dome.
Richard and all his company were beneath the dome just now, swearing oaths to faithfully serve the new King Edward the Fifth. That was why Gregory was out here alone with his sore eyes and lame excuses: the oath, it was specified, was to be taken in blood.
He wondered if [Tyrell] was aware of the differences between Fachritterschaft and the sort of knighthood he knew; if he would even call von Bayern "sir" if he were. Then, of course, in England it was not necessary that an engineer have formal rank before a baron would take his advice.
An explanation of the existence of the title "Fachritter" in German society.
Gregory thought that he had been very careless, very stupid. He considered how he might disable Tyrell without killing him; he had no dislike for Tyrell, and certainly none for Richard, and the man was only protecting his master.
From the moment Tyrell brings up vampirism until he rides away, Gregory thinks solely of survival: whether Tyrell will attack him, whether he will have to flee England. The respect Tyrell offers, and his friendlier words on p272, go right past Gregory. And this without any shift of narrative tone; even before the subject arose, Gregory's attitude towards Tyrell was impersonal curiosity, not friendship.
Gregory was thinking earlier (p266) of personal and collective loyalty; but he is now displaying no sign that either concept means anything to him personally. His earlier moment of concern for Elayne's happiness (p269) he now repudiates as "careless, stupid."
"An she were sick, t'would be Tyrell's job of surgery," he said, with his more usual roughness; then, just a little more softly, "Not a task I wanted, Sir Knight, but there it is. [...]"
Tyrell disposes of vampires for Richard. This mirrors his role in Shakespeare (and in our history, according to some stories) -- the murderer who killed the Princes in the Tower, at Richard's word. (And he will fall into that role in TDW as well; see p330.)
Harry was a handsome man, hazel-eyed and clean-shaven, running to stoutness but not fat. [...] His swagger was as natural to see as a duck swimming.
Introduces Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham...
...but his name does not appear until the end of the scene. The tension, of course, is because it was Buckingham's men who assaulted Hywel and Cynthia (p260). He thus was part of Morton's scheme to assassinate King Edward.
"You know what you would do on a Council, Richard: you'd count Woodville votes against you."
"I don't... like that," Buckingham said nervously.
Buckingham was just arguing that Richard should move to capture Prince Edward. Now he is hesitating at the idea of a meeting at Northampton. Since we know Buckingham was involved with the murder of King Edward, this is a suspicious hesitation. But his real goal remains unclear.
"My father died at Northampton."
It is unclear whether this discrepancy is deliberate.
"[...] Well, blast, Stafford, my father died not a year afterward, trying to make a king. And when they killed your sire, they didn't cut off his head and stick it on a pike, with a paper crown to suit the bitch-goddess's fancy. Nor was your brother's head on another spike beside it... so don't you tell me what places are ill-omened."
"We'll go to Northampton. But we will not set an ambuscade, not for the rightful King of England. We'll hear what Anthony Woodville has to say for himself. [...] Any objection to that, my lord of Buckingham?"
These events are consistent with our history.
"About Sir Anthony Woodville--"
This line enables us to place chapter 10 as occurring roughly two years after chapter 7.
Dimi is reminded of his own childhood, and his friend Charles (chapter 2).
"No," Dimi said, but he was beginning to understand.
"He's one of the sons of Morgaine the witch, you see. And Anthony's mother Jacquetta was a witch -- really she was; everyone knew it. [...]"
Balin and Balan were brothers and knights of King Arthur. They died at each others' hands, not recognizing each other. Their story appears in part 2 of Le Morte d'Arthur.
Rivers said "The schoolroom has no walls, and the pupil is always in it."
Richard seemed to be struggling with a thought. Dimi's own mind was clouded. Of course there were things that doctors could not cure -- he needed no more proof of that. But this man seemed to be saying that Hywel and Cynthia had not even tried.
The reference to incurable diseases is a recollection of Cosmas Ducas (chapter 2).
More than that: he was saying she had cut a child, for nothing. [...]
And Dimi would not believe she had gone so cruelly mad; not if there was anything like a god in the cosmos. He found himself not even believing the story about the white horse. Rivers did not look like a man who had been slapped.
"[...] It's not just treason, Anthony, it's vomitous. Even Scotsmen let us drive back the cattle they fail to steal; they don't kill them in the road for spite."
And this is purely a non sequitur. If Edward is ill, Rivers didn't hurt him; if Rivers inflicted some sort of poison on him, then Richard would have to accuse Cynthia of lying, which he has not. If the entire story is a fabrication, and Rivers is threatening to kill Edward before delivering him up, then he would be speaking of an illness measured in days, not months.
Again, the most likely explanation is that everyone is being influenced to distrust Rivers.
Unclear which deity this refers to. Possibly Ra.
"We'd have given you a battle," Buckingham said clearly, "but we thought you'd prefer the tiltyard."
"Don't let him cry out!" Buckingham said, coming around the table very rapidly. There was a brandy bottle in his hand; he smashed it over Rivers's head, spraying brandy and potsherds everywhere and thickening the air with fumes.
Dimi removes the rings for fear that they are magical; see p279.
It is no longer plausible that Buckingham is merely suspicious of Rivers, as Richard and Dimi are. He is acting to silence Rivers before he can explain himself. (And Rivers is making no attempt to defend himself physically, as Dimi notes.)
Ratcliffe had appeared, with men behind him, backing him. "Dick," Gloucester said, "take the Woodville lord to a room with no windows, and lock him in. [...]" They led the staggering Earl away. Richard said "Dimitrios, you stay."
"The King's at Stony Stratford. We're riding there now, to fetch him out before anything can be done to him. [...]"
Events proceeded much as they did in this chapter, minus the sorcery. Rivers sent Edward on to Stony Stratford, and then met with Richard and Buckingham in Northampton. Buckingham was an ally of Richard at this point, and they decided to arrest Rivers. No plot or deception seems to have been involved; simply the long-standing political tension between the Woodvilles and the Plantagenets.
The meeting occurs offstage in Richard III. A messenger describes the arrest briefly in act 2, scene 4.
[Edward] wore a sword and dagger as well, sized to a ten-year-old boy.
Tyrell came into the room, which had been already crowded with four. "My lords Vaughan, Grey, and Haute are accounted for," he said to Richard, as if no one else were present. "If there was a wizard, or a black doctor, they've slithered off."
"Tyrell and Ratcliffe will be taking our friends somewhere for safekeeping... Pontefract, I think, James; it's rather above the woods line. No questioning, but not too much comfort, either. Dimitrios, you'll come with us to London."
Vaughan, Grey, and Haute -- see p285.
"Above the woods line" is probably a pun, not literal topography: territory far enough north to be loyal to Richard, as opposed to the Woodvilles.
"[...] I do not ask you to love us for what we do; but I do ask you not to hate us, not until you have learned a little more about the world."
"Yes, sir. Do I take him to Pontefract?"
This is a direct and bitter codicil to Richard's earlier plea (p286). If Edward is not to hate Richard because he is too young, then when he is grown, it will be time to hate. This is not what Richard meant, and they both know it, but it is what he said.
Edward is pointing out that, no matter how good Richard's intentions, they are his intentions and not Edward's. Edward is not old enough to rule unaided, but he is mature enough to care that he is being treated as a pawn. And he is intelligent enough to say so indirectly.