One Last Session Before The Race | Wednesday early morning

[Francis Kirke]

Instead of Lord Kingston's yacht being in the forefront, it was the yacht which had been sailed there for Brandenburg's use which waited close to the water landing for Windsor this morn.

 

It was the last session they would have to practice before the big race, though the German was welcome to take her out another morning without Francis to gain his own measure and employ his own tactics with the crew. 

 

As the other morning, Francis and Tom were awaiting the Margrave's arrival sparring with swords on the deck, a usual morning routine.

 

Francis had stealthily brought a bottle of the much talked about Barenfang aboard. He was not one for getting drunk in the morning, but a quick glass to take away the morning chill was a different sort of a thing for a sailor. And if the Margrave did not wish to partake that early, the German would have a full bottle for later.

[Douglas FitzJames]

The boat from the North was small, light and fast. It had carried him to Aberdeen quickly on the King's business, and early on Wednesday morning it slipped quietly in to Windsor's landing. The Kelpie and her captain were known to the King's men, and in any regard the single figure who jumped from her deck to the landing as she briefly kissed it was dressed in Life Guard scarlet. A duffel bag was tossed after him, and the Kelpie continued on up the Thames, likely to moor and the crew rest until the tide turned and they could head home once more. 

The morning air was brisk, but after four days in the north it felt positively balmy as Douglas leapt ashore, grabbing up his duffel as it landed next to him and tossing the Kelpie's captain a quite salute of acknowledgement as the ship slipped away up the river. It had to manouver past a larger yacht to do so, and Douglas regarded the boat for a moment with the vague admiration but uneducated regard that most non-boat people had for the big, sleek ones. Someone's plaything. His preferred toys were a horse and a rare rifle, but he could see the appeal. 

Figured moved about on the ship's deck, sparring with swords in the pre-dawn gloaming, and as the first rays broke along the line of the river, he thought he caught a glimpse of blond curls. Kingston. It had to be, the man was all about boats. Kingston, the young rising star at court. Buckingham's bastard if Douglas was any judge, with good looks, natural charm and just enough courtly refinement combined with a certain apparent innocence to endear him to all, or so it seemed. It was a similar horse that Langdon had ridden in on, but Kingston had ridden it further. He'd even been cordial and friendly to Douglas until, head turned by a pretty girl, he had royally fucked it up. It was neither the first, nor the last thing that the Scotsman had fucked up; he lacked both of the necessary refinement and any appearance of innocence to get away with such, and wasn't of the right bloodline, whichever side of the sheets. Court loved Kingston, it tolerated Dundarg.

Well, he might be a bit slow but one was truly a fool if one did not learn from one's past mistakes. As the breeze turned the boat slightly on it's mooring and likely brought the landing more into the view of those aboard the vessel, Douglas said "Kingston," loud enough to be heard over the water, and gave an acknowledging wave before shouldering his duffel, lest he be seen to be ignoring the man. 

[Francis Kirke]

The Margrave had yet to arrive, so Francis was still sparring with Tommy when he noticed a boat drop someone off, thought not letting it distract him from what he was doing. It was quiet at that hour, so he heard his name called out clearly.

 

"Let's take a break," Francis said to the boy, before he leaned over the side of the ship and looked down toward solid ground.

 

"Dundarg, good morning," He greeted. "Never took you for one who travels by boat. I figured you preferred the speed of horseback and the threat of pesky thieves on the road to chasten." 

 

Francis had by no means forgotten, but he had previously decided to be civil, if only for Cat's sake, so long as there were no other issues. 

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas had not forgotten either, indeed it had often played on his mind. Things might have been very different, but if he'd learned one thing it was that you couldn't change the past, you could only learn from it. 

It was indeed Kingston and the words which floated down as the man leaned over the side of the boat to reply drew a laugh from the big Scotsman, for the other had pegged him perfectly. "Ye arenae wrong!" He called back with a grin. "But whin His Majesty commands aw speed an' nae distractions, his man obeys."* Even if it meant travelling by boat, which was definitely not his preferred mode of travel.

Cornflower blue eyes regarded the man and his ship in the growing dawn light. "Yer up early." He observed, eyeing the ship thoughtfully. "New boat?"** He'd seen Kirke's ship when the man had first arrived at court; the Enterprise if he recalled correctly, and this wasn't it. He remembered because he'd quite admired it, both the ship and the name. Fitting for a man who was a jumped up trader, just as Douglas was a jumped up soldier. How things had changed, for both of them. 

Subtitles
* "You aren't wrong! But when His Majesty commands all speed and no distractions, his man obeys."
** "You're up early. And I'm thinking that isn't your usual vessel. New boat?"

[Francis Kirke]

"As do we all," Francis replied to the comment about the King's orders.

 

His blue eyes looked to the side at the yacht for a moment, and then he answered, "No, I cannot upgrade my yacht with that sort of frequency. His Majesty ordered his older craft for the Margrave Brandenburg-Ansbach and asked me to accustom him to the craft and the Thames for the race on Friday."

 

He gestured back to Tommy who was standing by with his rapier. "Just passing the time until he arrives."

[Douglas FitzJames]

Douglas tipped his head in acknowledgement. Of course they all did, Kingston especially since he was now one of the men of the King's chamber. He understood. 

So it was the King's craft. Was Douglas surprised to hear that Kingston couldn't just buy a new boat? Perhaps a little. Kingston's rise had been so meteoric in his eyes that it felt natural to assume that he had money. But apparently not. He was a baronet in his own right, and held the Kignston title for his mother. His father had apparently had an unfavourable reputation though Douglas didn't know the details. And yet... and yet he was the King's man, and about to give a visiting German Margrave - presumably some relative of the Queen - a sailing lesson. Rumours even linked him to a German princess. If there was something in Douglas that was changing over time, it was his impatience. Instead of just being irritated over the apparent unfairness, the question of how begged genuine thought. Kingston was handsome - all the young girls at court talked about him the way they talked about Langdon - and he had good courtly manners, which seemed to have only grown more polished over time. And he had a patron. Whether or not he actually was Buckingham's bastard, the man had taken Kingston under his wing. Buckingham was powerful, wealthy, influential and the King's best friend. What better stepping stone could Kingston wish for? 

No doubt Kingston repaid the relationship with service that Douglas wasn't even aware of, but still; the realisation was like a bolt from the blue, a sudden moment of clear insight. There but for the grace of God... Kingston clearly understood the system, and he worked it. Or was being taught how to work it. The question of whether the chicken or the egg had come first was irrelevant. The favour of the powerful could achieve things nothing else could, and Kingston had that favour in the form of Buckingham. A patron could do much for one who had little. 

Which begged the rather sour question of which powerful man might want the service of a bastard Scotsman?

Something to ponder another time. Kingston said 'the race on Friday' like it was going to be a big event, so clearly this was something he should know about. "Och aye? An' weel ye be racin' as weel?"* He asked, interested. In his mind, Kingston was to boat races what Langdon was to horse races. 

His gaze moved to the red haired lad that Kingston gestured to. A young fellow at that awkward age, but clearly being trained for good things. He nodded in the lad's direction. "Weel, I hope ye dinnae hae lang tae wait." He said, thinking that they'd had a very civil conversation and it probably wouldn't do to overstretch things. "If either o' ye e'er want tae practice wi' a sinister fencer, jus' say the word."** He added politely. There weren't that many left handers at court, and facing one could throw people, something Douglas tended to use to his advantage. 

Subtitles
* "Oh yes? And will you be racing as well?"
** "Well, I hope you don't have long to wait. If either of you ever want to practice with a sinister fencer, just say the word."

[Francis Kirke]

"Indeed, the entry fees and a percentage of the gambling shall benefit the Navy," Francis explained. "Entertainment and charity. I am slated to race, yes, but not with my usual crew as I had to give those up to the Margrave too so that he would have a crew who knew what they were doing on the Thames. I pieced together some other sailors from my ships and warehouse, but they do not habitually function as a yacht crew. Such is service. I might look rather foolish." He shrugged it off. If His Majesty wanted to gift Francis' help for the Margrave, Francis would give it to the best of his ability, even if it put himself at disadvantage.

 

"We shall keep it in mind," He added to the offer of sword practice. 

[Douglas FitzJames]

"Aye, such is service." Douglas agreed. If the King wanted the Margrave to have the upper hand, then Francis would give it. It was the duty of all of them to arrange things as the King wished. "Still, ye ken yer boat an' the river; I doobt ye cuid luik foolish on it. T'soonds like t'weel be an excitin' race."* And definitely worth watching. All for a good cause of course. But having Kingston with an unfamiliar crew, whilst the Margrave had the use of his, would definitely even the odds.

It occurred to Douglas that he had an inside scoop on the upcoming race, since Kingston seemed to be feeling agreeably chatty. Perhaps it was simply because he really did have a passion for his work. Douglas could relate to that. "D'ye ken hou mony weel be racin'?"** He asked. With the proceeds going to the Navy, it would be worth placing a bet. 

Subtitles
* "Yes, such is service. Still, you know your boat and the river; I doubt you could look foolish on it. It sounds like it will be an exciting race."
** "Do you know how many are racing?"

[Francis Kirke]

"It will be a series of races, one on one, since the river cannot accommodate that many across."

 

Not hearing correctly, Francis thought FitzJames was asking about money. He wasn't sure about money racing. "There will be many bets certainly, so coin will be moving."

 

Then he caught on that it was many, not money.

 

"Unless there are late entries, it will be His Majesty, the Duke of York, the Duke of Cumberland, the Margrave, Buckingham, and myself. It will be an entertainment, to be sure."

 

 

[Douglas FitzJames]

It hadn't occurred to Douglas, who was in no way a sailor, that the river wasn't wide enough for more than a couple of boats to race together, though once Kingston said it, it seemed obvious. And there would be betting on the heats. Well, there usually was, but that sounded like it would be formalised, which was how the crown could gather it's share of the take. Fairly standard, really.

The line up however was quite something. The King, the three most powerful Dukes in the Kingdom, the German Margrave... and Kingston. He really was moving - well, sailing - in very high company. "Aye, t'soonds like a richt fun efternuin; I'll be int'rested tae watch." He observed, thinking that there would be plenty of expensive boats on the water, and expensive people out to watch them. "Weel, best o' luck tae ye fer Friday."* He called with a wave, thinking he'd best be getting on and leaving Kingston to it. 

Subtitles
* "Yes, it sounds like a very fun afternoon, I'll be interested to watch. Well, best of luck to you for Friday."

[Hope]

John Frederick tipped chin upward in a nod to young Thomas Spragge as he bridged the final distance to Francis. 

"Good Morning Kingston..." he hailed in guttural accent that betrayed his German heritage even more than the oversized collar of his costume, which by English (and French) standards it was so last decade.  His costume was however very new, and spoke of many many silver thalers*.  

His sharp gaze turned to take in Douglas also, "... you have brought me more crew, this is good. I shall win."

 

 

[Francis Kirke]

Francis bowed as the German arrived. 

 

"Good morning, Your Highness," he greeted.

 

His light brow furrowed for a moment about the comment of more crew. Then he realized the man was talking about Dundarg below on the platform.

 

"Oh, no, that is Captain FitzJames, recently returned from an errand up north. He is not a Navy man, prefers his battles on solid ground. Trust me, Sir, I've given you the best crew possible for the race, they've raced this before together."

 

Was one supposed to do introductions yelling down the side of a yacht? Francis did not think so. Etiquette rarely favored yelling. It was a different sort of situation.