An Unexpected Prince

Chapter 99: Tsar
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    Chapter 99: Tsar

    February, 1710


    Alexei, Tsar of Russia took a deep breath. He was finally a man, a married one at that. He had spent much of his time trying to balance his actual feelings with how he felt the state needed him to be. The impression he’d been given of his father, as an ambitious man who had a problem with drink, meant that he himself drank nothing but beer, and even that in moderation. He avoided anything else, and as such he knew most of the court did as well. His wife was someone he had known since childhood and he loved her dearly, his dearest Anna. But now, the time had come to assert his own authority over the council and remind her father who was in charge.

    “We have read through the reports.” Alexei said. “We are very impressed with the work that you have all done to bring about change to the Empire. Most especially you, Boris.” He saw his father by marriage smile. “The development of a proper road network and the improvement of the sanitation systems is no mean feat. We know the Boyars spent much time trying to prevent this work, and so that it has succeeded is a credit to you.” Well, perhaps that was not going to make reminding his father by marriage of who was in charge easier, but it was at least the truth.

    “Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty.” Boris said bowing his head. “Of course, none of this would have been possible without Your Imperial Majesty’s blessing.”

    Alexei nodded and then continued. “Now the important thing is that we maintain the balance of the roads and the sanitation system. We cannot allow for them to degrade, for if they degrade, what will that say about us? We want clear maintenance of each object within the system for both and we want regular reports on them.”

    “Of course, Sire.” Boris said.

    Alexei then turned his attention to another matter that had peaked his interest. “Now, we know that the Swedes had been considering waging a war against the Prussians, has this actually gone ahead?”

    Foreign Minister Gavril Golovkin nodded. “It has, Sire. It appears King Charles found his reason for war and the invasion of Prussian Pomerania began some weeks ago.”

    “Who is likely to win that war?” Alexei asked.

    “It is hard to say, Sire.” Golovkin replied. “The Swedes have a very good army, but the Prussians have experience in the type of fighting that will be needed in Pomerania.”

    “And what type of fighting is that?” Alexei asked.

    “Depending on where they fight, it will be a lot of hill fighting, which means infantry will be important and surprise attacks will be the main style for the day.” Golovkin said.

    “So, the Swedes could eventually be beaten?” Alexei asked.

    “It is a possibility, Sire. But not a certainty.” Golovkin said.

    “And if he is smart, King Charles will draw the Prussians out into the lowlands where his cavalry will be far more effective.” Boris said.

    Alexei considered this. He had contemplated moving on the Polish to assert his authority, but if the Swedes were busy killing themselves in Prussia then perhaps that was a decision best left for another time, instead he said. “There is a new Khan in Crimea, a man who holds his throne on the balance of the Sultan’s whim. We know from your reports Golovkin that he is not well liked by his own people, we are considering sending a force there to demand tribute.”

    Boris spoke then. “A wise decision, Sire. The army is well armed and prepared for dealing with the Crimean Khan. Furthermore, the Sultan is busy fighting an invasion from the Safavid Persians, therefore will not be able to truly deal with the crisis as it emerges.”

    Alexei nodded and said. “We shall want a list of possible commanders to take charge of this expedition before the day is over.”

    “Of course, Your Imperial Majesty.” Boris replied. Alexei would wait and see who the man put before him and if he wasn’t satisfied, he would lead the army himself.
     
    Chapter 100: Stair
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    Chapter 100: Stair



    May, 1710





    Major General John Dalrymple, 2nd Earl of Stair, commander of King James’ forces in the New World looked at the map that had been placed before him and his officers and took a deep breath. The situation seemed positive. They had the French on the back foot, and were even in with a chance of seizing some new land. But they were in danger of using up their funds and their resources, and with reports of how things were going back home, it didn’t seem as if they’d get the extra push they needed. Therefore, he took another breath and then spoke.

    “We have them on the back foot, lads. They’ve lost every battle we’ve fought, and the Indian tribes are slowly moving towards us. However, we need more munitions and we need more money. Neither of which London will be able to provide so long as the war in Europe is going against them. Therefore, we need viable solutions.”

    Lieutenant Colonel Robert Rich spoke then. “We’ve already got a steady trade link with the tribes due to taking Fort Richelieu and Fort Chambly. They know that the French lack sufficient manpower to prevent an assault on Fort Frontenac, and that the chances of us moving on Quebec grow with each passing month. They’d be foolish to go against us. So, we need not worry about them turning coat. I say we ignore the Governor’s orders about not using French munitions found in Richelieu and Chambly and go straight ahead and use them.”

    “The governor is acting on the King’s request. The King didn’t want anything to be done with those munitions in case the French use them as a pretext for seizing anything during the war in Europe.” John reminded him. He disagreed with the King, but not enough to openly commit treason.

    “And is the King going to know that we used them?” Rich challenged. “He’s in London, or in Brussels or wherever he is. We’re here. And we need to act.”

    Major Ligonier spoke then. “Lieutenant Colonel Rich is right Sir. The Governor isn’t going to know nor is the King. We have them in our possession, it would be idiotic not to use them.”

    John thought about that for a moment. He knew the diplomatic consequences could be bad if it came out, but they were munitions, and they needed them. The Forts didn’t need them and the French didn’t have the strength to retake the Forts anyway, according to their reports. If they wanted to take Frontenac and secure their western side, they would need them. Eventually, he sighed and said. “Very well, give the order for them to be taken and moved southwards. We will need to organise patrols to ensure the French do not know we’re moving them.”

    “Very well, Sir. I’ll do it.” Ligonier said.

    “And what of French dispositions?” John asked. “Where exactly are the main body of troops?”

    “In Quebec with the Governor General, Sir.” Rich replied. “The French are convinced that we will be going for an all out assault on the capital of New France to make up for losses in Europe.”

    “And how many men do they have?” John asked. If the majority of French forces were in Quebec, and they abandoned Chambly and Richelieu, the French would take them back in no time, and their northern border would be threatened again.

    “Our estimates put them between 10 to 15 thousand, Sir.” Rich said.

    John shook his head then. “Then we cannot allow Richelieu and Chambly to go without defence. Cancel my previous order, we’re keeping the munitions there.”

    “But Sir, we if don’t bring those munitions down we’re going to struggle with the objectives we have here.” Rich protested.

    “And if we do bring them down the French will retake Richelieu and Chambly and our northern front will be exposed. I cannot have that.” Jon said. “We will need to write to the governor once more to get him to send extra men and weapons.”

    “Will he do that though?” Rich asked. “The governor spends more time dressing up as a woman than actual governing.”

    John bit back a smirk, the governor was not well liked by the army, but he was still the governor. “He will if he knows how much it will benefit him.”

    “Very well,” Rich said. “I will send the letter.”

    “You write it, Ligonier will deliver it.” John said.

    “Me, Sir?” Ligonier asked sounding surprised.

    “Indeed, the governor likes handsome men, and you are very much a handsome man.” John said.
     
    Chapter 101: Queen of Hearts
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    Chapter 101: Queen of Hearts



    August, 1710


    “What did the doctors say?” Her husband, King James asked.

    Marie Louise, Queen of England, Scotland and Ireland took a moment to think and then she replied. “They said that the miscarriage was likely because of stress due to Charles’ illness. But they said that enough time has passed that I should be okay to try and conceive again.”

    “And what do you think?” James asked her.

    Marie Louise took her husband’s hand, and was relieved when he didn’t flinch back like he had done in the past. “I think that I would like my husband back in my bed. It has been nearly a year since George was born, and Charles is much healthier, we are working well together, James, we can do this.”

    “You are sure?” Her husband asked.

    “I am.” Marie Louise. “Why keep making ourselves miserable?” It was true, she knew her husband had been less happy since they’d stopped sleeping together and as far as she knew, he hadn’t taken a mistress in that time either. She missed him terribly, it didn’t feel right waking up without him by her side.

    James smiled. “Then we shall resume sharing a bed.” James raised their hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to them.

    Marie Louise smiled and then she asked a question she knew would change the mood of things. “How is the war going?”

    Her husband sighed. “Badly. We are losing in the Spanish Netherlands; the French are most likely to advance on Brussels before the year is out. Prince William refuses to give a substantial command to Marlborough despite the fact that the victories we’ve gotten have been when they’ve worked together. The only positives have been the naval dominance we now exert over the channel, and the fact that we’re winning the war in the colonies.”

    Marie Louise nodded, she knew very little about war, but she knew enough about politics and about her new home Kingdom to think that another solution could be put forward. “Why not change the focus of the war?”

    “How do you mean?” James asked.

    “Well, if we are winning the war in the colonies, why not push the advantage there?” Marie Louise suggested. “You, yourself have mentioned how the colonies are gaining ever more benefit as a source of trade compared to the Spanish Netherlands which is badly managed and defended. Would it not make sense to hit French pride by driving them out of their colonies?”

    Her husband looked intrigued by this, his free hand was stroking his chin. “I suppose you are right. It would certainly play to our advantage. Our naval strength means we can prevent any French aid from getting to their colonists, and Stair does keep saying in his letters that he wants to take Quebec.”

    “See,” Marie Louise said. “Why not commit and go all out?”

    “The cabinet and Parliament. Both are convinced that the war in the Spanish Netherlands can be won, and I do not want to take a sudden divergence for fear of looking weak in front of them. However, if they can be made to see the financial benefits, they might be willing to allow more funds to be allocated to the war in the colonies.” James said.

    “A way of showing that might be through using available good will to throw a ball? Surely people like Godolphin and Derwentwater would appreciate a good ball. I’m sure even the Whigs would be more than happy to attend such a ball that shows off the grandeur of the state. During that ball you could propose more investment in the colonies and suggest doing so would bring even greater riches.” Marie Louis suggested.

    James smiled. “I quite like the thought of that. I shall speak with Waldegrave and Harley about beginning organising such a thing, and I shall of course give you free reign over particulars.”

    “How kind.” Marie Louise replied smiling.

    James then changed the topic to something else. “I saw your account books earlier and I saw that you’ve received a request to name one Abigail Masham as a lady in waiting.”

    “Yes…” Marie Louise said. “The suggestion came from Lady Churchill, she recommended her.”

    “You mean John’s wife?” James asked.

    “Yes,” Marie Louise replied. She knew her husband didn’t like the Countess of Marlborough, especially after the woman had made the Dowager Duchess of Cumberland leave her husband’s side during his illness. “I was considering granting the application. The girl is quite smart and has helped Lady Churchill improve her finances considerably.”

    “That is a benefit, but she is also a cousin to the Countess.” James pointed out.

    “True, but that just means we have leverage over her.” Marie Louise said.

    “Very true.” Her husband acknowledged. “Well if you’re in favour of it, I see no reason not to.”

    “Thank you.” Marie Louise replied with a smile.
     
    Chapter 102: Godolphin's Farewell
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    Chapter 102: Godolphin’s Farewell



    November, 1710



    Sidney cleared his throat and took a sip of wine. He knew that this conversation would be painful, but it needed to be had. His doctors had made it clear that he would not survive into the next year if he continued as he was. Therefore, he took another sip of wine and put the cup down, then looked up to find the King looking at him intently. The King was a young man at twenty-two and filled with energy, he had secured the succession and had brought innovative reforms to the Kingdoms, and Sidney was proud of him, but he also knew that he needed new blood.

    “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Your Majesty.” Sidney said. “I know you are busy.”

    The King waved a hand dismissively. “Not at all, we will always make time for you, Sidney. So, tell us how can we assist you?”

    This was just one way in which the King was different to his father and uncle, he never demanded service, but always wanted to offer it. “This is more about how I might assist you, Sire.” Sidney replied.

    The King raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

    Sidney took another sip of wine and said. “As Your Majesty knows, I suffered from some ill health earlier this year, as such I have spoken with my doctors and they have told me that it would be best for my health if I retired from government business and from court. They have said that the stress of everything has caused my body to slowly disintegrate, though quicker than it normally would have. Therefore, in the interests of myself and of the state I am offering Your Majesty my resignation from the roles of Lord High Treasurer and Secretary of State.”

    The King’s expression was unreadable, somewhere between shock, disappointment and acceptance. Sidney waited for a long time before he eventually got a response. “Whilst we are disappointed and sad to see you go, we understand your decision and we accept it.” The King said. “We will need you to formally hand over the staff of office before the next council meeting.”

    “Of course, Sire.” Sidney said. “And thank you for being so understanding.”

    The King nodded. “Though, perhaps before you go you can give us some advice.”

    “Of course, Sire.” Sidney replied.

    “Who would you recommend we name as your replacements?” The King asked.

    Sidney didn’t have to think long on this, seeing as he’d thought about it much before. “For the position of Lord High Treasurer, I would recommend Robert Harley, Sire. He has done a good job as Speaker of the Commons and commands suitable influence there in order to keep it loyal, furthermore, he has a fine knowledge of numbers as shown by his growth in wealth investing in the Bank of England and the East India Company.”

    “Very well, and for Secretary of State?” The King asked.

    “I would recommend the Earl of Derwentwater, Sire. He is young, but he has demonstrated far more nous and understanding of the complex affairs of the realm than men twice his age.” Sidney said.

    The King nodded. “Two choices we quite agree with, thank you.” Sidney bowed his head in recognition of the praise and then, the King added. “There was one more thing we wished to seek your advice one.”

    “Sire?” Sidney replied.

    “The war with France. Do you think it wise to continue pursuing a policy that has seen us only win three of the battles that have been fought in that war?” The King asked.

    Sidney hesitated, a part of him understand the King’s concerns, they might control the waves, but their army was being humiliated on land by the old enemy, and the longer the war continued, the harder it would become to truly maintain an image of strength on the continent. On the other hand, they could not concede an inch to the French if they wanted the King’s image to remain strong at home. Though perhaps there was a way out. “Sire, I think that the war in the Spanish Netherlands will continue as long as the French King perceives a threat. It would be more ideal if we were to begin negotiations between all sides, and then try and reach a compromise. Additionally, I would focus more on the colonies, because they are a potential source of embarrassment for the French, and success there could force them to the table here.”

    The King considered this. “Do you think that truly could work?”

    “I think with the right prodding, anything can happen, Sire. Man, is the most malleable of all God’s creatures.” Sidney replied.

    The King grinned. “This is very true, thank you, Sidney, you have been good friend and mentor.” With that the King rose, and Sidney with him, they shook hands and then the King departed, leaving Sidney feeling both relieved and sad.
     
    Chapter 103: Mother
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    Chapter 103: Mother

    February, 1711


    Anne took a deep swig of brandy, and then looked at her son. James, 2nd Duke of Cumberland, he’d grown taller and more handsome compared to when she’d last seen him, and he’d been named Secretary of State for the Northern Department as well. Anne was proud of him for using his natural skills, but she was upset. Upset because he never told her what was discussed in council meetings in his letters to her. That was why she had summoned him here, hoping he would be more open with her in person.

    “I wanted to congratulate you on being named Northern Secretary, dear, it is quite the honour.” Anne said.

    “Thank you Mother.” Her son replied.

    “You must be very busy with the war on and needing to keep a handle on Parliament.” Anne asked.

    “Something like that. Harley is useful in that he controls the Commons with a whip hand.” James said.

    Anne hummed in acknowledgement, Sarah had said that Harley was someone who they couldn’t control, but who through his greed might well come to them in the end, and thus she was hoping she could perhaps find out more through her son. “So, is there anything that has happened in the council that you wanted to discuss? I know that I often found it helpful to talk with your father about it.” Anne said lightly.

    Her son stiffened. “I cannot speak about council business with non-council members, Mother, I am sorry.”

    Anne felt as though she’d just been slapped, and not for the first time she wondered why she had agreed to step back from the council when her brother had come of age. “I am merely offering my services as a listening board, son, that is all.”

    “I know, Mother, and I appreciate it, but I cannot do it.” Her son replied.

    Anne’s temper surged forward, she took a hefty swig of brandy and then said. “I am your mother, James, but I am also the senior Princess of the family, by tradition and right I could make you tell me what has been discussed.”

    “No you couldn’t.” James said.

    “What do you mean I couldn’t?” Anne replied. “I am the one who wrote the damned rules on this.” It was true she’d sent a whole booklet around the palaces for the staff to read, instructing them on who had precedence and who didn’t.

    “The brandy must be clouding your thoughts, Mother.” James said. “Under the rules you wrote, I as Duke of Cumberland have seniority over you. I am the senior Prince of the Blood, and as such outrank you. Therefore, you cannot make me do anything.”

    Anne slammed her fist down on the table, causing the brandy glass to rattle. “I am your Mother, James, and I demand to know what is happening!”

    Her son remained calm as he replied. “And unfortunately I cannot tell you. Maybe if you made up with the King and were restored to the council I could tell you. But until then I cannot.” Her son made to get up. “Now if that is all you wanted to talk about, I am going to go.”

    “No, please don’t go!” Anne pleaded. She quickly thought of another topic to speak about that would make her son stay. “How are your children?”

    Her son smiled. “They are good, James has begun talking quite excitedly about things.”

    Anne smiled sadly, she had only met her grandson once, and that was when he was christened. She could not go to Whitehall to visit her son, not whilst the Queen was there, and nothing she or Sarah seemed to have thought of had worked. The King and Queen were as close as ever.

    As if sensing her thoughts, her son said. “You know you should go and speak with the King. He wants this breach between the two of you closed.”

    Anne sighed and took another deep sip of brandy. “I wish it were that simple, but it is not.”

    “Why?” James demanded. “He cares for you, and you care for him. What is stopping you from going to Whitehall and talking to him?” There was a long silence as Anne filled up her glass and continued drinking, her son then gasped. “It’s her isn’t it. It’s Lady Marlborough. She’s been whispering poison in your ear this whole time.”

    Anne stopped drinking and looked up at her son. “What are you talking about?”

    James looked at her, and his face had changed, it was no longer sympathetic, if anything, he looked deeply angry. “You two have always been close, and she’s been your lady in waiting for many years. But you never do anything without talking to her anymore. And she doesn’t like the Queen and Elisabeth for some reason, therefore you haven’t come to Whitehall.” Anne wanted to protest, but she knew deep down that her son was right. James snorted in disgust. “You know what Mother? Maybe get rid of the evil in your home first before trying anything.”

    Anne looked at her son and said. “I cannot dismiss her.”

    “Why?” James demanded.

    “Because she is my friend.” Anne said, though she wanted to say Sarah was so much more to her.

    “Then you will not know your grandchildren.” Her son said he got up, and stalked out of the room.

    Anne watched him leave and then she burst into tears.
     
    Chapter 104: Dauphin of Power
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    Chapter 104: Dauphin Of Power

    May, 1711


    Louis sat down and looked at his father, the man seemed tired, more so than usual. His face was lined and his eyes looked as if they’d not seen the light in months. He would’ve voiced his concerns, but he knew his father didn’t like it when he did that, so instead he kept silent. He waited as was usual for his father to speak first.

    When the man did so, his voice sounded hoarse. “We have summoned you here today to discuss the war and the part you are to play in it.” The King cleared his throat but his voice still sounded hoarse. “The war is currently going well for us; the allies only hold the Brussels-Ghent line and that in of itself looks as though it might fall. Our spies report that the commanders of the alliance are at odds with one another, with the Earl of Marlborough desperate for more control, and the Prince of Orange refusing to give it to him. However, the English have control of the seas and therefore were able to get more soldiers to their allies under the command of the Duke of Cumberland.” The King stopped speaking then and coughed.

    Louis took that moment to speak. “I already know all of this Sire, why are you repeating it?” He knew speaking like that to the King was dangerous and he would never have dared speak like that to his grandfather, but his father was not the same sort of man as the Sun King. He was weaker.

    “We wished to ensure that you understood the circumstances with which you are being met here today.” The King said. “Our cousin of Orleans has done an able job as the representative of the Crown in the field, but he is needed here, and therefore we wish for you to take up his place.”

    Louis wanted to cheer in happiness, he’d been waiting for this for a long time. However, he kept his expression neutral as he replied. “I am honoured that you have considered me for this role, Sire.”

    The King nodded. “Understand that you will be instructed by those with greater experience than you. Mainly the Duke of Vendome, and as such you are to defer to his advice, unless you truly think that something needs to be done.”

    Louis nodded, he bit back a protest. He knew his father was only doing what his own father had done for him before, and therefore he had to appreciate it. “Understood, Sire.”

    “The objective is to break through the Brussels-Ghent line and fracture the Anglo-Dutch alliance. If you can capture the Prince of Orange even better.” The King said, before he broke down coughing. As he wiped away some of the spittle, Louis could’ve sworn he saw some blood on the King’s handkerchief.

    “Understood, Sire. Is the Prince of Orange more important than the Duke of Cumberland? It is my understanding that Cumberland is the King of England’s closest advisor and friend, not to mention his nephew.” Louis said.

    “Orange is the Commander of the Alliance army; he is the more dangerous threat. Remove him from the field and the alliance will crumble.” The King said.

    Louis nodded. “Yes, Sire.” He waited to see if there was anything more that his father wished to talk about, but the King seemed to have nothing more to say. Louis waited and then got up when the King waved his hand.

    As Louis got to the door, his father started coughing something fierce, and then he stopped. Louis asked him. “Are you well, Sire?”

    “I am fine, now go.” The King barked.

    Louis bowed his head, called out and walked out once the doors were opened, but as he did so, he saw his father’s wife appear-she’d clearly been listening close by- and saw them talking, and all he could think to himself was that his father did not look well, not at all.
     
    Chapter 105: Drummond's Entail
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    Chapter 105: Drummond’s Entail



    August, 1711


    James Drummond, Duke of Perth and former Secretary of State for Scotland looked around the room. The main meeting room in Holyrood Palace-which as governor of the city had been given to him by the King- was quite large, enough to fit a small army in, if he were being honest. However, there were only three other men in it with him. They were his brother, John Drummond, Duke of Melfort a former Lord Chancellor, James Hamilton Duke of Hamilton and William Gordon, 2nd Earl of Aberdeen and the current Secretary of State for Scotland as well as Lord Chancellor of Scotland. James had asked for this meeting to discuss matters he considered to be of great importance, and as such he wasted no time in getting to the point.

    “My lords, thank you all for coming. The most pressing matter that I wished to discuss with you all today is the current Darien Scheme. As you are all aware the funding for the scheme was increased only recently, and the focus has changed toward a more northern direction in the new world. However, there still remains no sign of improvement, and therefore we must consider changing the direction of our focus.” James said.

    “Where would you say we look to?” William Gordon asked.

    “I would recommend that we begin preparing for a taking over of what is currently in French hands.” James replied.

    “How?” Gordon asked. “The war is not over, and even if the Forts to the West of New York have fallen, there is no guarantee that they won’t be returned to the French at war’s end.”

    “If we show the King that we wish to make something of ourselves in the New World and focus on an area that has potential for growth, I see no reason why he won’t agree to our suggestions that those Forts taken remain in our hands. After all, we need to show the investors that they are making a return on their investment.” James said.

    He could tell that Gordon was seriously considering his argument by the way the other man’s fingers tapped the table. He had come to figure out that Gordon only did that when he was in great thought. Eventually the man replied. “I will consider it and present the choice to His Majesty at the next council meeting. But how will you convince the investors that this is a worthwhile cause? They have invested quite a lot of money into the scheme so far.”

    “And they have seen little reward. We all know that the French have never supplied their colonies in the New World with enough man power to make anything of them. That would be different in our case. We know where to learn from their mistakes, and we have the manpower there to protect the investment. We would simply need to recall those already in the Darien lands and send them northwards.” James said.

    “Such a scheme would take months. We might not have such time.” Hamilton said. “The annual reviews come up in a few weeks. We need a clear solution before then.”

    “Then you will have one.” James said, he would get his son to write it up and he’d have his brother Edward look through it.

    “Good.” Hamilton replied, and then the man said. “There was something else that I wished to talk about since we are all here.”

    “Go on.” James said.

    “We all know that increasingly the King is focusing on matters relating to England, which is fair enough, England is the richer Kingdom, but we are lagging behind and that is not acceptable. Scottish men are fighting and dying in the Spanish Netherlands, and a Scottish Commander is fighting for the English in the New World, if this is to continue we must take our place at the table and ensure that our voice is fairly heard.” Hamilton said.

    James expected Gordon to protest, but instead he simply said. “I agree with you.”

    “What do you propose then?” James asked.

    “I propose that we meet with the other great lords in Scotland and begin hammering out a proposal which we can put before the King asking for a union of the lands and Kingdoms of England and Scotland.” Hamilton said.

    James thought on this for a moment and then said. “It would work, I am supportive of it, but it would face stiff opposition from the Highlands and from some on the Eastern side who still adhere to the old alliance.”

    “That shouldn’t matter too much, we can handle those.” John said, speaking for the first time.

    James nodded, that was true, and then another thought came to him. “Before he died, the King’s father tried to integrate the Irish more into the administration of the Isles, perhaps if the King can be convinced of its merits we can also bring the Irish in. We all know how much they hate being left out alone.”

    There was some laughter at that, but then Gordon asked. “How will you convince the Irish of its merits?”

    “I’ll speak with Arran, he’s got some sense in his head, he’ll make the others see sense.” James said.

    “Very well.” Gordon said.
     
    Chapter 106: Devonshire
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    Chapter 106: Devonshire



    November, 1711


    William Cavendish, 5th Earl of Devonshire smiled at the serving girl who put the cups of wine before him and his guest, and then dismissed her with a wave of his hand. He took his cup and raised it. “To the Earl of Marlborough to celebrate his great victory against the French.”

    “Hear, hear.” The lady said, they clinked their glasses together and then took a sip of wine.

    William tasted the bitter wine, and then put it down on the table and said. “You must be happy with how much your husband is being feted, my lady. I have heard the King intends to raise him to a Dukedom.”

    Sarah Churchill, Countess of Marlborough merely smiled. “I believe the King is waiting to see what else happens. John has managed one victory, and that only because the Prince of Orange was ill.”

    “Still,” William replied. “It is an impressive feat and one that has humiliated the Dauphin.”

    “This is very true.” The Countess acknowledged. “But enough of the war, how are you doing, William? It has been quite some time since you were in London. You were missed at the last grand ball the King held.”

    William nodded, he had not deigned to attend knowing that his family were still seen as tainted due to his father’s ill-judged actions. He had worked hard to show his loyalty to the Crown though, since assuming control of the estates. Sending six Tory MPs from Derbyshire and the surrounding lands, and ensuring that none of the Whig filth was printed in Derby itself. “I did not think it appropriate to attend, with my wife so recently having recovered from an illness.”

    “Quite.” The Countess replied. “How is Lady Rachel faring?”

    “Well enough, thank you.” William said, his suspicions were growing now, the Churchills had never cared for his wife before, indeed they had done a lot to sully his wife’s family’s name with first the Princess Regent and then the King.

    “And the children?” Lady Marlborough asked.

    “They are well, thank you. William has developed a fascination with regalia.” William said, smiling at the memory of how excited his son had been when his brother James had sent through some books with sigils of houses from Europe.

    “Ah, excellent.” Lady Marlborough replied. “I can ask John junior if he would be able to send some books from Brussels when he gets the chance, if you would like?”

    “That would-be kind of you, thank you.” William replied. His suspicions truly heightened now.

    The Countess nodded and then a silence fell over them for a time, neither of them said anything though William knew that the Countess was plotting something. He’d heard from friends at court that the King regarded the Countess as a corrupting influence on his sister, and that he’d prevented her from attending most events, unless he needed something from her husband or son, at which point she was allowed to attend. And he had also heard that the Duke of Cumberland had broken off all contact with his mother as well. He wondered just what the Countess could want, but felt that he could wait to see if she would speak first.

    Almost on cue, the woman did speak. “My lord, I know that this might seem like a rude request of me, but I have a feeling that your family and mine should be allies.”

    William feigned confusion, though he knew exactly what she was talking about. “Allies? My lady, is there some war going on within the Kingdom that I am not aware of?”

    The Countess did not seem impressed. “Come now, my lord, we both know what I refer to. Your interests and our interests are aligned.”

    “Are they?” William replied.

    “Yes. We both know that some of the influences around the King are not good for the safety of established interests. Derwentwater and Harley are new men who have risen far above their stations, and thus must be dealt with.” The Countess said.

    William was intrigued by this, he had met Derwentwater once, the young man had shown some smarts and was intelligent, much more so than many people were at his age. Harley, William did not know. “What do you propose?”

    “That you return to Cavendish House and meet with your allies in the Lords and the Commons. Get your MPs to frustrate various measures that Harley tries to propose. Make it seem as though Harley has lost his touch.” The Countess said.

    “I control ten MPs, my lady, not fifty. I will need some help in that regard.” William said.

    “Then you will get it. I know that Francis Godolphin is with us, as is the Duke of St Albans and the Duke of Grafton also.” The Countess said.

    William highly doubted that the King’s cousins were against him, but he let the woman before him think that. “Very well, and what of Derwentwater how will you bring him down?”

    The Countess smiled. “Derwentwater is young and he has a fondness for various things shall we say. Bringing him down will not be hard, but bringing down Harley is what you should concentrate on.”

    William nodded and then asked. “And what is in it for me?”

    The Countess smiled again, a dangerous smile, and in that moment William could understand how a man like Churchill had fallen for her. She was positively dangerous, and alluring at the same time. William waited for her to respond and she did so, her response did not disappoint. “A place on the privy council and one of the main offices of state. The King will need someone with clout and power to replace Derwentwater when he falls.”

    William raised an eyebrow, though he was truly intrigued by this offer. “And you think he will turn to me?”

    “Yes.” The Countess said.

    “Why?” William asked.

    “Because it would suit his sense of irony. Your father was his greatest enemy, and now you are to be his greatest ally. And in that position, you can bring about the reforms this Kingdom needs.” The Countess said.

    William had to admit, it was an appealing offer, a chance to come out of the wilderness and restore his family to its rightful place in the centre of politics. He didn’t trust the Countess, but she didn’t need to know that. He looked at the woman and said. “Very well, I agree to this alliance.”

    “Excellent.” The woman got up then and said. “Now I must depart; it is a long way to the Godolphin residence.”

    “Indeed.” William said. He walked with the woman to the entrance of the house and watched as she got into a carriage and departed, but the moment she was gone, he turned to his footman and said. “You got all of that I trust?”

    “Yes, my lord.” the footman said.

    “Good.” William replied, he turned and walked back inside. He had a lot of letters to write.
     
    Chapter 107: Oranges Die
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    Chapter 107: Oranges Die

    February, 1712


    William bit back a cough and felt the stinging sensation in his chest. This was becoming a regular occurrence now and he knew he didn’t have long left to live. He took a sip of wine and then spoke in what he knew was accented English. “You all know why you are here. This war has been going on for quite some time now and we must find a way to finish it.” He coughed, and this time when he put his handkerchief to his mouth, and wiped his mouth, blood appeared on the chief. He sighed. “I am willing to hear proposals on what should happen next.”

    Almost immediately, James Fitzjames, Duke of Berwick and brother to the King of England answered in English. “I think that we must attack the French at once. They are stationed south of the Scheldt, in great numbers. But they are in disarray, with their King ill and the Dauphin having returned to Versailles, they are having to readjust. Consequently, if we strike now and in great numbers we can push them back and keep pushing until they are thrown out of the Spanish Netherlands.”

    “I agree with His Grace.” Arnold Von Keppel, a friend of William’s and a leading general in the Republic said. “We cannot let them regather and regroup, we must strike immediately.”

    “And in what order?” The Earl of Marlborough and victor of the first and second battles of Scheldt asked. “How are we to structure this, when our own army is facing illnesses?”

    “We must consider the limitations of what we can do and then go from there.” Berwick replied. “But I still believe that we can indeed push this through and achieve a victory.”

    “A victory yes, but it would be costly, and the French would be expecting us to pursue this strategy.” Marlborough said.

    “What makes you say so?” William asked. “If we were fighting King Louis’s father I would agree with you, but we are not. The generals around the French King lack the sense of those who served his father.” The fact that they’d managed to be defeated twice by Marlborough was example of that.

    “Even so, it is the most sensible solution to what issue we are facing.” Marlborough said. “They would expect us to come for them where they are gathered. And as such they would plan accordingly.”

    “What would you suggest we do then?” William enquired, he started coughing again, and had to put the handkerchief to his mouth once more, this time when he pulled back, it was completely covered in blood. He closed his eyes and felt a spasm of pain in his chest.

    Marlborough didn’t reply immediately, instead he looked at the map, and William got the feeling that he was coming up with a strategy then and there. Eventually the man did respond, and William’s suspicions were confirmed. “We must attack the cities where they have garrisons. We have the guns to do it. I suggest we start with Ghent. Ghent is lightly guarded, and intelligence reports suggest that the populous there are not settling well under French rule. Once part of the army has left for Ghent, another part must depart for Alost to ensure that the French do not get suspicious. The part at Alost must engage the French and buy time.”

    It was a sensible suggestion, William had to admit. Their reports indicated only thirty men from France’s army garrisoned Ghent, and the populous there was mainly being held in check through fear of retaliation of the bigger French army at Alost. “How many men would you send to Ghent?” William asked.

    “Three thousand. One thousand to take the city, and another two thousand to head onwards.” Marlborough said.

    “Onwards?” William asked, though he knew what Marlborough would say before he said it.

    “To Ostend and Bruges. Those two cities are crucial to French control, if we take Ostend we free up another port for the ships of the Royal Navy to provide supplies to.” Marlborough said.

    “You are counting on the enemy not thinking that men would be sent to these places.” Berwick said to the man who William knew was his uncle.

    “Indeed, I am. But I am also counting on them thinking that the biggest concern would be Ghent. They will try and get passed the army at Alost, and when they fail to do that, or if they succeed, Ghent will have already fallen and they will be stuck trying to take it again, and this time we will be prepared.” Marlborough said.

    “You would send the majority of the army to Alost then?” William asked.

    “I think that would be sensible, Your Highness.” Marlborough answered. “It would ensure that nothing had been left to chance.”

    William thought on this and due to lacking a better option said. “Very well, you shall command the force that heads to Ghent. Arnold, you shall command the army to march on Alost.”

    “Yes, Your Highness.” Both men said.

    His nephew Johann Wilhelm Friso then spoke. “And what of you, Your Highness?”

    “I will ensure that Brussels remains ours.” William responded. And if I am lucky, I will not die before we have achieved victory.
     
    Chapter 108: Finance and War
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    Chapter 108: Finance and War

    May, 1712


    James picked up the paper and then put it down again. “Ghent has fallen.” He said simply, that drew cheers from the members of his cabinet.

    “That is excellent news, Sire.” Robert Harley, Lord High Treasurer and Chancellor of the Exchequer said.

    “Indeed it is, it gives us more access to the Spanish Netherlands. However, there is negative news as well.” James replied. “The allied army lost at Alost and has been pushed back to Brussels, thus meaning that Marlborough is now stranded in Ghent.”

    “Which means that the French will no doubt move to lay siege to Ghent to try and take it back.” James Radclyffe, Earl of Derwentwater said.

    James nodded. “Indeed, if there is any sense in the heads of their commanders that is what they will do. However, our nephew writes that he has heard tell that the French intend to move on Brussels instead.”

    “They want to bring a complete end to this war then.” Derwentwater suggested. “After all we know the Spanish are now on the back foot in Navarre.”

    “That leads me to the point I wished to make, Your Majesty.” Harley said. “The Commons is growing restless. The war has been going on for some time now, and the results have until now been minimal. Whilst we have assumed naval dominance, the Spanish Netherlands has fallen on hard times and our army has not been granted the chance to show itself off until very recently. I do not think the Commons will want to grant more money for the war should it be asked to do so.”

    James nodded, he had suspected as much and as such he asked. “What type of peace proposal do you suggest we make then?”

    “There are three choices as far as I can see them.” Harley responded. “Either we recognise France’s claim to the Spanish Netherlands in its entirety, which nobody would accept due to the damage it would do to our trade. Secondly, we could give the Spanish Netherlands back to Spain, with some other agreement being reached by the French and Spanish. But again, that would likely not happen. Spain is in no position to make any deal like that. Finally, we could propose that what France has conquered so far remains French, and the areas we hold including Ghent, become an Anglo-Dutch governate.”

    James considered the choices before him, the first option was completely unacceptable to him and would no doubt strengthen French power, something he could not abide. The second option was fairly ridiculous. The Spanish despite their good showing in Navarre had been shown as incompetent and behind. Only the third option protected England’s interests, and consequently that was the one James was in favour of. “Write to our ambassador in The Hague let us see what the Dutch say when we propose option three to them. We shall write to our nephew Cumberland and tell him to broach the topic with the Prince of Orange.”

    “Sire.” Harley said.

    James had had a letter from his nephew indicating that the Prince of Orange was near death, and that the man’s cousin Friso would soon inherit everything in the Netherlands. Whilst James thought the information useful, there were more pressing concerns for them to handle at the moment. Including finance. “If the Commons is reluctant to fund more war, then we are going to have to find a way to move ourselves away from dependence on them.” James said. “The Bank of Albion has done a good job in providing loans and credit, but we must expand its services. The investment from senior nobles will only last as long as they are convinced of stability.”

    “What would you recommend, Sire?” Harley asked.

    “When we were young, we read about the Bill of Exchange that the Dutch issued, and how well that was received. Indeed, during the reigns of our father and uncle, the Dutch were able to gain so much leverage due to those Bills of Exchange.” James said, he saw Harley nod his agreement which encouraged him to go on. “We should introduce such a thing, and ensure that our traders and bankers are able to fully use them.”

    “It would make sense, Sire.” Harley said. “It would enable our merchants to trade freely without fear of being caught short handed during times of war, and it would also give the Bank of Albion more to deal with and thus increase their sense of importance.”

    “Another reason for peace then.” Derwentwater said. “We cannot introduce this measure if we are at war.”

    “Indeed not.” James agreed. “We also believe we must begin investing more within the East India Company and create a new company to take advantage of Spain’s decline.”

    “Sire?” Harley asked.

    “Spain is declining, soon it will be little more than an irrelevance. We must take advantage of that and try and expand our Empire. To do that we must have a company that can deal with the merchants on an unofficial basis. A company that can bring them some certainty, certainty that will be guaranteed if it is granted a monopoly on trade in the South Seas.” James said.

    “It would certainly be advantageous, Sire.” Harley said.

    “And would be aided by the union of the Kingdoms, Sire.” Aberdeen said.

    “This is true.” Harley agreed.

    James nodded, then turned to Aberdeen. “What progress has been made in terms of the union?” He had named Aberdeen as Lord Chancellor of Scotland as the head of discussions for the union of the Kingdoms. He wanted this union and he wanted it now. Two fewer Parliaments to deal with would be all for the best.

    “The Commissioners from Ireland have expressed great support for the venture and are happy with the representation they would receive in both houses. As are the Scottish Commissioners. Some of the English commissioners have expressed doubts, but if the South Seas Company is founded then I am sure they can be bought off.” Aberdeen said. “There has only been one main concerted effort to prevent the motion going forward.”

    “And who has that come from?” James asked, he was surprised that things had gone quite so well, he had expected more resistance.

    “A group of nobles led by the Earl of Mar and involving mainly lords from the Highlands, Sire.” Gordon said. “They fear their traditional rights will be ignored under this union.”

    “And why would they think such a thing?” James demanded perplexed.

    “It seems the Earl of Mar has convinced them that their rights and privileges will be eroded under a system where control is in London, not Edinburgh. He it seems has taken it into his head to convince as many people as he can that the government will prevent the Highland way of life from continuing.” Aberdeen said.

    “Why?” James asked. “We have not said anything of the sort.”

    “It seems that he was quite offended at not being named to any high position in the government in Scotland, Sire.” Aberdeen replied. “He thought that he would get something and got nothing.”

    James looked at the man in shock. “So, he is spreading chaos and confusion, out of spite?”

    “It appears so, Sire.” Aberdeen responded.

    James wanted to bang his head on the table. People could be so petty sometimes! He took a deep breath and then said. “Send a letter to the Clan Chiefs who are protesting, invite them to London and tell them we wish to speak with them.”

    “Yes, Sire. And what of Mar?” Aberdeen asked.

    “We will deal with Mar.” James said, an idea beginning to form in his mind.
     
    Chapter 109: Queen For A Day
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    Chapter 109: Queen For A Day



    August, 1712


    Marie Louise watched as the Doctor looked over her husband and then as he stepped back and made some notes before moving forward again to examine the King. Guy Crescent Fagon, physician to the King of France had been appointed during the reign of her uncle the Sun King and kept on by her husband breaking with custom, and as such, he was the only person Marie Louise actually trusted to tell her whether her husband would recover or not.

    Eventually Fagon stepped back and closed his little book before turning to her. “Well?” She asked.

    “Your Most Christian Majesty,” Fagon began. “I am afraid the symptoms have gotten worse. From what I can observe I think that His Most Christian Majesty has the black lung.”

    Marie Louise felt her eyes widen, and she glanced to the corner where the Dauphin was sat, he had leaned forward at that. “You are sure?”

    “Yes, the shortness of breath, the coughing up of blood, the sweating and the dizziness are all signs of it.” Fagon replied.

    “So, there is nothing that you can do to help him?” Marie Louise asked.

    “No, unfortunately not. There is no cure for the black lung, only patience and a willingness to keep going until the end.” Fagon replied.

    “Do you know how he could have gotten it?” Marie Louise asked. “He has not been anywhere near the battlefield nor has he been anywhere near those who might be unwell.”

    “It is possible that it is a pre-existing condition, I am not sure, Your Most Christian Majesty. I would need to study other patients before I could tell you.” Fagon said.

    “Very well, thank you.” Marie Louise indicating that Fagon was dismissed. “And remember, do not tell anyone about this.”

    “Of course, Your Most Christian Majesty.” Fagon replied bowing once before departing.

    Almost at once her step son got up and walked to her and said. “We cannot keep this hidden for long. The King has already been absent from court for two weeks, people are beginning to talk.”

    Marie Louise sighed, her step son was right, but there was no way that she was going to allow her husband’s health to deteriorate further, just so that some stupid ceremonial niceties could be observed. “You will have to take his place at the head of the Council, and as leading representative at the Court.” She replied looking at her step son.

    “That will just increase the rumours.” The Dauphin replied. “People are already convinced the King is dead. If word of this gets to the front, then the army will be demoralised.”

    “Bugger the army.” Marie Louise said in a most unladylike manner. “We have bigger things to worry about. The Kingdom needs stability; you must go and represent the King at council and court.” She said it in such a manner to make it seem like a request whilst they both knew it was an order.

    “And what will you be doing?” The Dauphin asked.

    “Looking after the King and the girls.” Marie Louise replied. Their daughters were very young and they were going to lose their father so suddenly, it didn’t seem fair.

    The Dauphin looked like he wanted to protest but eventually he nodded, as he was about to leave however, the King grabbed his hand and gestured for him to lean down. Marie Louise looked away, not wanting to interrupt the moment between father and son, though she overheard the King say something about Brussels. She heard the Dauphin grunt in acknowledgement before bowing and leaving.

    When he was gone, Marie Louise asked her husband. “What did you say to him?”

    Her husband cleared his throat and said. “I told him to accept the peace terms that the English were offering.”

    Marie Louise nodded, a sensible decision and one that would end a pointless war.
     
    Chapter 110: Navarrese Problems
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    Chapter 110: Navarrese Problems

    November, 1712


    James Sobieski, King by marriage of Castile and Aragon and a whole host of other realms that made up Spain took a deep breath and bit back the desire to scream. Sometimes he wondered why in God’s good name he’d agreed to marry Maria Antonia, why he’d decided to drag himself all the way to Spain to experience something that was close to hell. The Spanish nobles were intransient, they refused to accept change and guarded their privileges jealously, they ensured that his wife’s life was made difficult, and they ensured that he never felt like he could ever measure up to their ridiculous standards. He had few friends at court, and he was beginning to miss Poland, something he had never felt before. He shook his head and tried to suppress the negative thoughts. He had a war council to lead and couldn’t afford to be down on himself.

    “What is our status?” He asked the room at large.

    “We have lost two thousand men since the campaign started, Sire, and we have currently accumulated perhaps fifty miles of territory.” the Duke of Linares said.

    “Fifty miles for two thousand men?” James said, the tone making it sound like a question whilst in reality he was despairing. “And this is all land we’ve had to get back from the French, yes?”

    “Yes, Sire.” Linares responded.

    James felt a bottomless bit of despair begin to envelope him and he had to try and fight back against it. God, he missed Maria and their children, he wanted to be anywhere else but here. “And how is morale amongst the troops?” He’d been out to visit them as often as he could, showing his face where needed and shaking hands. He wanted the troops to respect him, to know that he hadn’t forgotten them.

    “Morale is good, all things considered, Sire.” Linares said. “The troops know that things are improving, they know that the French army’s attention is elsewhere and they are willing to keep pushing onwards.”

    The French army had mainly been focused on fighting England and the Netherlands in the Spanish Netherlands and had barely sent anyone to fight in Navarre, and yet they’d still managed to overrun most of it before James had gotten an effective response together. He knew their victories were more down to French laziness than anything else. “Do we have the funds for that?” He asked, acutely aware of just how much debt they were likely accruing to fight this damned war.

    The Marquess of Lede, one of the few men in Spain that James could consider an actual friend spoke then. “Yes, Sire. From the accounts, we have enough money to last us another three months, and that includes paying the troops.”

    James nodded. “Very well. I will write to the Queen and request some extra funding. I highly doubt that the French will end this war in just three months.” Knowing the French even the death of their King likely wouldn’t stop them.

    “If I might make a suggestion, Sire?” Lede asked. James gestured for him to continue. “Perhaps it would be better for us to send someone to request the beginning of talks with the French. It would ensure that we are seen as being proactive and allow us to set the terms. Especially as we are currently in the dominate position.”

    “I agree with Lede, Sire,” Linares said. “We have the advantage here.”

    James considered it, perhaps he had been too hasty to suggest another prolonged war. He didn’t want to worsen the debt situation and they did have the advantage for now. His wife had told him that she cared more about preserving the integrity of Spain than the far away Spanish Netherlands anyway, so perhaps all would not be lost. “I will send a letter to Her Majesty and get her opinion on the subject.” Was what he said in response.

    The commanders around him made noises of agreement, and slowly but surely they got up and left the tent, after James had dismissed them. He remained where he was though, wondering just what to do, and fighting back the urge to take the knife that was at his side and use it. He couldn’t let the dark thoughts win. Not this time.
     
    Chapter 111: No Peace Without Brabant
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    Chapter 111: No Peace Without Brabant

    February, 1713


    The Lord Chancellor banged his gavel and spoke. “For the government the Right Honourable Earl of Derwentwater.”

    James Radclyffe, Earl of Derwentwater and Secretary of State stood up and moved to the podium. He took a moment to get his thoughts in order and then spoke. “My lords, we are here today to vote on a bill that could ensure that the war with France ends in such a manner as to ensure that we benefit from its ending. The terms of the Treaty which this house has seen are simple. In return for the cessation of hostilities, a protectorate will be set up between ourselves and the Dutch over the area stretching eastward from Ghent all the way to the border with the Dutch Republic. Meanwhile the French will get everything westward of Ghent.”

    He took a breath and continued. “This treaty is common sense. It ensures that we are now in control of the region that brings us a lot of trade and thus keeps it out of French hands. It also ensures that we do not have to rely on a failing Spanish Empire to keep defending itself anymore. From now on we will have access to the Brussels Market and its fortune. The French have those areas they consider essential to their defence; it is a win for all. I urge the Lords in this chamber to vote in favour of the Treaty and to honour the sacrifices made by the soldiers of His Majesty’s army.” James sat down.

    From the corner of his eye, he saw the King nodding his head approvingly, this was the first major debate the King was attending in his reign, having usually delegated to his ministers. James knew that the King had decided that this bill was too important to miss and thus he’d ventured from his wife’s side-the Queen was heavily pregnant and was due to give birth at any moment- and was now here.

    “Lord Nottingham.” The Lord Chancellor said.

    Nottingham was a fat old man, but he could speak quite well, that he’d sided with the opposition was surprising to James, the man and his son were renowned Tories. “Thank you, my lord.” Nottingham paused and then looked around the room before settling his eyes on the King briefly before turning to glance at James. “This treaty claims to be a surety of peace; it claims to be a way of ending the struggles over the Spanish Netherlands. I do not believe that for one moment.” A murmur of discontent broke out over that.

    Nottingham spoke again when the room had calmed. “King Louis is not like his father that is true, I doubt King Louis the Sun King would ever have bothered trying to seek terms for something like this. But, the man is still a French King and the French have long demanded the Spanish Netherlands as compensation for the failure of Spain to pay Queen Maria Theresa’s dowry. Consequently, I see no reason why they will not renege on this treaty in a few years’ time. They have sacrificed much, too much some would argue to see it go to waste.”

    There were some murmurs of agreement coming from the other side of the House, James saw the King’s brow furrow in concentration. Nottingham continued. “And then there are the Dutch, for now our interests are aligned it is true, but we are diverging. The Royal Bank of Albion and the reforms that His Majesty has introduced have made the City of London a burgeoning financial hub, one that could well challenge Amsterdam. This treaty gives us access to Brussels and direct control over the financial levers of its market. That is a huge threat to the Dutch and would no doubt make them nervous, giving them every reason to break the treaty. I think that the only true safeguard is a returning of the Spanish Netherlands to Spain.” Nottingham sat down to some murmurs of approval.

    “Lord Derwentwater.” Came the call from the Chancellor’s seat.

    James got up, swallowed and then replied. “Lord Nottingham raises some valid concerns. Yes, there isn’t a guarantee that the French will hold true to the letter of the Treaty, but they are alone in that regard. We have received reassurances from the Stadholder and the Grand Pensionary that the Dutch will stick to the treaty and that they are more concerned with their own internal matters than anything else. That will give them reason to comply to avoid another war. As for France, King Louis is not his father, Lord Nottingham is right, he has kept his word and pulled troops back from Alost and other towns within our area of the treaty. As such we must put faith in him keeping his word.” James sat down, not entirely happy with what he had said.

    Nottingham clearly knew that for the man had a smile on his face and shook his head when asked if he wished to reply. If James were being honest the treaty didn’t sit well with him, it relied too much on people sticking to their promises and the realm of politics had consistently shown that politics did not treat people who stuck to their principles kindly. As such he expected the treaty to be broken, but he couldn’t say that here.

    He blinked when the Lord Chancellor banged his gavel and said. “And now we begin the vote. Those in favour of the Treaty raise your hands.”

    James raised his hand, as did the Duke of Cumberland and the rest of the government who were in the Lords, as did the King, which prompted several members of the Whigs to raise their hands also. The counters did their job and then handed the number to the Lord Chancellor. He looked at it and put it to one side.

    “All those against the Treaty, raise your hands.”

    Nottingham raised his hand as did a fair few others, men who James knew he should know the names of but didn’t. Once the counting was done the papers were handed to the Lord Chancellor. He looked at them and then put them down.

    A tense silence descended upon the Hall as they all waited for the results. James hoped he’d gotten the result in his favour, otherwise he had a feeling the King would replace him with Harley, and that was something he could not stand.

    Eventually the Lord Chancellor opened the first set of papers and said. “403 in favour of the Treaty.” James didn’t relax indeed he tensed some more.

    The Lord Chancellor put those papers to one side and picked up the other papers. “397 against the Treaty.”

    James sagged down in relief, he’d won.

    “The ayes have it. The treaty passes.” The Lord Chancellor banged his gavel and a cheer went up from his side of the room, James glanced at the throne and saw the King smiling at him.
     
    Chapter 112: Quebec
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    Chapter 112: Quebec

    May, 1713


    John Dalrymple, 2nd Earl of Stair took a deep breath and then looked at Earl of Clarendon and said. “The French have agreed to the initial proposals that we put before them. In exchange for their recognition of our capture of Quebec and Fort Richelieu they want us to recognise the establishment of a fort in Acadia and other such defensive structures that border the colonies.”

    Edward Hyde, 3rd Earl of Clarendon nodded. “A good development, but one that will perhaps not sit very well with what the King wants.”

    John raised an eyebrow. “And what does the King want?”

    “French recognition of our capture of Quebec, Fort Richelieu, and the handing over of Fort Duquesne.” Clarendon said.

    John nodded. “I can understand why the King would want Duquesne, but we wouldn’t be able to hold it anyway without more men being sent over. The colonials might understand the need for a greater militia presence, but we need trained men, which will need investment.”

    “I am due to visit London soon,” Clarendon replied. “I can speak to His Majesty when I attend Whitehall.”

    “That would be beneficial.” John said. “In the mean time we need a way to get what the King wants and find a way to meld it together with what the French will agree with.”

    Clarendon looked at the map and pointed at a few forts. “These two, Chambly and Frontenac are ones which we know the French aren’t garrisoning properly, and which they know we know. I think they’d be willing to hand those over.”

    John glanced at the map. “Those structures are nearly decrepit. Are you sure they are worth asking for?”

    Clarendon sighed. “I think that that is the best we can do. We won the fight here, but the French hold the advantage over there. We both know the King has become more concerned about developing the colonies, if we can pitch right, then I think we can both make the French think we are fools whilst convincing the King of the benefit of taking those forts.”

    John looked at the man and found himself wondering how someone who could dress up as a lady and flaunt it in front of his own wife, could be so politically shrewd. Then again, he found himself thinking, what did he know about anything other than how to fight. “I suppose you are right. I will leave the politicking to you.”

    “Naturally.” Clarendon replied with a small smile.

    “When do you head over to London?” John asked.

    At that question, Clarendon’s face took on a slightly less favourable appearance, John wasn’t sure whether it was because he would need to adopt the court protocol or because he would need to see the son who seemed to despise him-John had read one of the letters- but Clarendon didn’t seem too happy. “In a few days’ time. The ship is being escorted by a small fleet of ships commanded by Admiral Byng.”

    “I see. So, we should have some time to truly prepare for what needs to be said and done.” John said.

    “Yes, I will ensure that my secretary knows the details.” Clarendon said.

    John nodded. “Very well.” He shifted slightly and then said. “If there’s nothing else?” Clarendon shook his head so John got up nodded to the man and then walked out of the room, making his way back to his own chambers, and to a soft bed. He found himself wondering how much longer he would need to remain here. He didn’t mind the colonies, but he wanted something more from his life than just fighting the French in the dirt and grime.
     
    Chapter 113: Begin Albion
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    Chapter 113: Begin Albion

    August, 1713


    James looked around the room and had to bite back the urge to sigh. It was damnably hot and the number of men in this room meant the odour and the sweat of all these men was mingling together to make everything even more unbearable. Still, he had to focus and keep everything under control. He was the King and thus he needed to ensure the world functioned as he wanted it to. Once this was one he’d go and meet with Marie Louise and the children and then venture to Hampton Court for a retreat.

    “Gentlemen,” he said simply. “you all know why we are here. The discussions of a union between the Kingdoms of England, Scotland and Ireland have raged for a year now and the time has come to settle the matter once and for all. We shall ask that the Lord Chancellor of England speak first.”

    Simon Harcourt, Baron Harcourt spoke then. “Thank you, Sire. The discussions have been very fruitful and as such myself and Lord Aberdeen have come to an agreement in terms of what we feel the legal code should be.” Harcourt paused and then continued. “Furthermore, in agreement with the Lord Chancellor of Ireland we have decided to include various provisions to safeguard some of the traditional safeties that were enjoyed in all three kingdoms before.”

    James nodded, the Lord Chancellor of Ireland was gravely ill, and had written to James to let him know that whatever Harcourt said, he agreed with. James had taken that into consideration and then informed the Duke of Ormonde that as Lord Lieutenant he would be the senior representative of the Irish delegation. “And what are those provisions which you have decided to safeguard?”

    “There are three, Sire.” Lord Aberdeen said. “Firstly, the preservation of the rights and liberties of the City of London as found in the Magna Carta.” James nodded he had expected that. “Secondly, the right of all those who require assistant to be given that assistance within Scotland.” James nodded once more, that made sense given the grave distances there were between settlements. “And thirdly preserving the first Wednesday of every month for fasting and prayer in Ireland.” Again, James nodded he had expected this.

    “We see no reason to object to those laws, they are sensible ones.” James replied. “Now, as for the other laws on the statute books, from the time that this union is codified into law, there will be one law that will range across the Kingdom. There can be no Scots Law, no English law and no Irish law. There will only be the law of the Crown passed in the Parliament of our United Kingdom.” He saw the Duke of Hamilton about to protest and thus continued. “You cannot have a United Kingdom if there are so many different laws in place that they contradict one another. One need only look at Spain to see how that hinders the effective running of government. No, from this day forth there shall be only one law.”

    As if to prevent Hamilton or even the Duke of Norfolk from raising a problem with this, the Earl of Aberdeen who was Lord Chancellor of Scotland spoke quickly. “As such, myself and Lord Harcourt and the Lord Chancellor of Ireland have all discussed how to adapt the laws in all three Kingdoms to be suitable for use within the new Kingdom. The system will be as follows, where one law is decidedly more humane than another it will be used and where another law is more appropriate for a crime than another, it will be used. For example, the Treason Act of 1351 shall now be used in England, Scotland and Ireland. Whilst the Endeavours Act of 1692, shall be used in Scotland, England and Ireland.”

    There was some murmuring at that, and the Earl of Sutherland spoke then. “How do we know that the process for choosing which laws apply and which laws don’t is fair?” The man shifted slightly as James looked at him. “It is one thing to talk about humane and appropriate, and another to really think about what suits an agenda.”

    There was some angry muttering in response, but James ignored it and instead kept his gaze fixed on Sutherland. “The decision making is fair because we are the one making that decision, Lord Sutherland.”

    Immediately Sutherland blanched. “I meant no disrespect, Sire, I merely wished to raise a query.”

    “Quite.” James replied. “Now unless there are any other objections to this, shall we move forward?”

    When nobody else voiced an objection, James turned to the Duke of Perth who smiled and said. “After much discussion and argument we have finally reached an agreement in how many MPs shall be elected from Scotland and from Ireland to this new Parliament.”

    The man’s brother, the Duke of Melfort continued. “99 MPs will be elected from Scotland using the current constituencies.”

    “99 MPs will be elected from Ireland using the current constituencies.” The Duke of Ormonde said.

    “And the remainder shall come from England.” The Earl of Derwentwater said.

    “Are there any objections?” Lord Harcourt asked, when nobody said anything he smiled and turned to James. “Then there you have it, Sire. All that needs to be decided now is the name of the Kingdom.”

    “That answer is simple enough.” James said. “We have thought long and hard about the name and have decided upon one which heralds our illustrious past and our glorious future. We shall name the Kingdom Albion.”

    “An excellent name, Sire.” Harcourt said.

    The Duke of Perth raised his cup then and said. “To His Majesty the King and to the glorious United Kingdom of Albion!” the cheers echoed across the room and James smiled, pleased that he had succeeded where his ancestor and namesake had failed.
     
    Chapter 114: Princess In Orange
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    Chapter 114: Princess in Orange

    December, 1713


    Anne, Princess of Orange and wife to the Stadholder of the Dutch Republic looked at her aunt and felt pity. The woman had outlived her husband and was now confined to irrelevance. Prince William had lived just long enough to sign the treaty which ended the war with France before he had succumbed to his illness, that had been a few months ago, and in that Anne, had been completely overwhelmed with new responsibilities, such that she’d not had the chance to speak with her aunt. Well, now the woman was here in her chambers and she would speak with her.

    “I know this must seem a foolish question, Aunt, but how are you doing? Truly how are you doing?” Anne asked.

    Her aunt looked at her and smiled sadly. “I am as well as can be in such a position. I am simply happy that William is no longer suffering.”

    Anne nodded, her uncle Prince William had been suffering from some sort of infection in his lungs, he should have died a year ago, but sheer strength of mind had kept him going. At least that’s what Anne thought. She was sure that there was some medical explanation for it. “And your needs are being met? You don’t want for anything, do you?” She asked.

    Her aunt shook her head. “No, I am well looked after, thank you.”

    “Good, that is good.” Anne said. She found herself struggling to come up with things to talk to her aunt about, which was odd. Usually they were quite close and would talk freely about anything, but that had been when she had been the junior member of the family, now as Princess of Orange she was the senior member, and her aunt had long been a stickler for the rules.

    “You need not worry too much about me, Anne. I will be heading to Albion soon to meet with my sister and brother.” Her aunt said.

    Anne raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

    Her aunt laughed. “Yes, I am very sure. I do not wish to be a burden on you and Johann. I know that my time here would only serve as a painful reminder of what was passed. It is time for the present to take over.”

    Anne was both relieved and nervous. Relieved in that she was happy her aunt had decided to make the decision before she’d been pushed, and nervous in that it might well reflect badly on her for allowing her aunt to go. It was a confusing feeling, but she still answered in a positive manner. “Well, if you are sure then I will not stop you.”

    Her aunt smiled in a manner that indicated that even if she had wanted to, Anne would not have been able to do that. “And what of you? How are you finding being Princess of Orange?”

    Anne wanted to lie and say everything was fine, but the way her aunt was looking at her, made the words come tumbling out. “Some days it is a real struggle. Some days I do not know what I am doing and I feel awful.”

    Her aunt took her hand. “That is normal. Sometimes I didn’t know my right from my left. It happens to us all.”

    “But why do so many of the nobles want us to know things that are so strange that not even they know them? Like one day Lady Keppel asked me if I knew what happened on 3rd May 1270, and I had to think about that for a good moment before realising nothing had happened.” Anne said.

    Mary laughed. “Some of the ladies are full of themselves. They wish to test your resolve, but they do not have the guts to actually ask pressing questions.”

    “How long will that last for?” Anne asked.

    “For as long as you let them ask such questions.” Her aunt said. “You must reply by asking them a suitably difficult question, only then will they stop and respect you.”

    Anne considered that and then nodded. “I will remember that.”
     
    Chapter 115: Bobbing John
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    Chapter 115: Bobbing John

    March, 1714


    John Erskine, Earl of Mar rubbed at his chin, feeling the stubble there and grimacing. He hated having stubble, he always had. He wanted something a bit more loose and free, stubble was far too constrictive. But he knew if he grew a beard he’d look wrong, and if he shaved he’d look like a boy, so he kept the stubble. It was a minor inconvenience he supposed and it did enable him to feel more at ease with the men he was with. Simon Fraser Lord Lovat, Robert Munro Baron Foulis and Kenneth Grant Laird of Grant. All three were hard men, who had lived and fought in the Highlands, and no doubt they saw him as some common lowlander, a softie. He would prove them wrong.

    He took a sip of his wine and then spoke. “We all know why we’re here. What has happened since the Act of Betrayal was passed has ensured that all of our standards of living and our freedoms have been reduced. The King has done what he can to limit the damage but his councillors particularly Perth and Melfort are most greedy and pernicious. We must have a redress of grievances.”

    “Here, here!” Simon Fraser said.

    “Perhaps it would be best if we addressed what our grievances are then?” Munro asked.

    “The restoration of Scots Law in Scotland,” John said. “we cannot abide by sharing the same laws with the English and the Irish, our customs have been developed over a thousand years since the days of Kenneth MacAlpin, you cannot just remove that in a blink of an eye. We must have our feudal rights protected, and we wish for our Parliament to be returned.”

    “Do not forget that the Act of Betrayal removed our right to tacksmen. It has removed the very thing that we need to keep afloat.” Kenneth Grant said. “We cannot abide by that.”

    John kept his thoughts on the primitiveness of that measure to himself and made a note of it. “Indeed.”

    “Truly, the King must be made to see the sense of what we are suggesting. We are not trying to suggest that he is in the wrong, merely that his advisors are wrong.” Munro said.

    “Agreed,” Simon Fraser said. “His Majesty did what he thought was right based on the advice that his advisors gave him. That that advice was wrong well, His Majesty could not have known that because of how secluded he was from other voices.”

    “So, we must petition for the removal of Perth and Melfort.” John said. The fact that at their advanced ages both Perth and Melfort had managed to become important ministers in the King’s council baffled John. It angered him as well, especially when he remembered how he had convinced the Duke of Hamilton to agree to the Union, in return for the Earl of Aberdeen promising him an office of State when the Union went through.

    “Petition for their removal and achieve what? The King will just replace them with two new men who are just as useless as them. No, what we need to do is show the King that we are willing to back up our words with actions.” Kenneth Grant said.

    John shifted slightly, he was not very comfortable with where this was going, but he knew he had started this whole thing, and so he asked. “And what would you suggest?”

    Grant grinned then. “There is a regiment under the command of Louis Drummond, Marquess of Forth heading to garrison Stirling Castle. The young man has a claim of misadventure hanging over him, especially as regards Lord Macleod’s daughter. We push for Macleod to push for that, gather our own men together and attack the regiment, dressed as bandits, capture Drummond and demand that in return for our demands being met we will release Drummond.”

    John looked at Grant and said. “You are not a thinker are you, Lord Grant? Capture Drummond and then issuing our demands will ensure the King refuses. No, what we must do is send Macleod after Forth and ensure that they fight one another. We can then come in with our men, hit Macleod hard and then use the King’s gratitude to get what we want.”

    Grant didn’t look convinced, but Munro did. The man asked. “Do you think that will work? Truly?”

    John nodded. “I think so. I think we must give it a try and we all know Lord Macleod is not a quick thinker. He will use the information we give him to his own ends, and create a mess for himself.”

    Lord Lovat spoke then. “I agree with Lord Mar. I have someone within Macleod’s household who can make the tip, let Macleod decide to take action and when he inevitably messes up, we will be there to clean it up.”

    “Very well.” Grant said, though he didn’t look pleased.

    “I will have my secretary write the letter that will be sent before we make this incursion.” John said, still feeling slightly uneasy about all of this but knowing it was necessary.
     
    Chapter 116: Perth's Revenge
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    Chapter 116: Perth’s Revenge

    June, 1714


    “King Louis showed more sense than his father and agreed to the new Treaty, Sire. Therefore, I can happily confirm that Quebec is now ours.” The Earl of Derwentwater said.

    James Drummond, 1st Duke of Perth nodded along with the other ministers, noting the King’s joy at receiving this new and he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of annoyance. There were more important matters within the Kingdom that needed to be addressed. It was always going to be a formality that the French King would agree to cede Quebec, he didn’t have the military might to not do so. Not in the colonies anyway.

    Still, the King seemed well pleased with that news, and James had to admit if the King was pleased, then everyone would be pleased. “That is fantastic news, we have your hard work to thank for that James, you will be remembered for such.” The King said to Derwentwater.

    “Thank you, Your Majesty.” The man replied.

    The King then looked at him and said. “You said you had news regarding the incident near Stirling, Lord Perth?”

    James nodded. “I do, Your Majesty. After doing a lot of searching and using my contacts in the region, I’ve discovered that there were six men who were identified as leaders of the group that attacked my nephew the Marquess of Forth and his regiment. These six men are also responsible for his disappearance.”

    “And who are these men?” The King asked leaning forward intently.

    “Minor clansmen from Clan Erskine, but their leader is the Earl of Mar, Sire.” James said. “The soldiers who survived the attack and were able to see the leaders’ faces close up confirmed when looking at a portrait of the man, that Mar had led the bandits.”

    “Why would Mar risk so much?” Was the question that Derwentwater asked. “He has a lot of privileges being Lieutenant of Mar and Moray. Why would he risk that?”

    “Several reasons.” James said, glancing briefly at Derwentwater and then at the King. “From what my sources have gathered, Mar thought that because he played a role in getting the Duke of Hamilton to agree to the Act of Union, he would get a position in the Council of State. That he did not has left him feeling bitter. Secondly, the fact that he has not been given a prominent position in the army has left him feeling as though he is not appreciated, despite his supposed efforts in keeping the men of Mar pacified.” James smiled when the King snorted, it was well known the men of Mar had been pacified long ago and that Mar had bungled more than he had helped with that. “Finally, it seems that he might have genuinely been concerned by the changing of the legal code within Scotland. Though that seems to be a lesser concern.”

    “And he managed to get most of his Clan to support him in this endeavour?” The King asked sounding surprised.

    “Some of them yes, Your Majesty. The members of Clan Erskine have a deep loyalty to their Clan Chief and as such are willing to do much of what he asks, but the assault on the Marquess of Forth has caused a great deal of concern for many of them.” James said, at the King’s raised eyebrow, he continued. “My aunt was married to an Erskine; I have family ties within the Clan and not every one of them are willing to go ahead with an assault on a King’s man.”

    “Can Mar be attainted for this blatant disregard for the law?” the Duke of Cumberland asked.

    “Only if there is sufficient proof that he ordered the attack on Forth’s regiment. That would need to take the form of statements which could be submitted to the Lords, Your Majesty.” Simon Harcourt, Lord Chancellor said.

    The King looked at James then and said. “You know what you need to do then, Lord Perth.”

    James nodded. “I do, Sire. And I will not let you down.”

    “Good.” The King said. “Now it has been a long meeting, we are sure you are all tired, you are dismissed.”

    James rose with the others, bowed his head and then departed, and as he left, he could feel a grin appear on his face. He was going to destroy Mar, and if he was lucky, use his son’s marriage to the man’s sister to claim the Earldom of Mar and increase his influence there.
     
    Chapter 117: It Grows
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    Chapter 117: It Grows

    September, 1714


    “Sire, there is good news from the treasury.” Giuseppe Spinelli, a member of the treasury said. “We have seen an increase of thirty percent in yields as a result of good harvests.”

    “Good.” Philippe replied, he answered in the French of his homeland, and not the barbaric Neapolitan that his subjects spoke.

    “What does this mean for the reforms that the King wishes to implement?” His wife Elisabeth asked.

    “It means that there is much more money available for the grand projects, Your Majesty.” Spinelli said. “We now have finance available for the grand road building projects that Your Majesties wish to institute, alongside the finance needed for cleaning up the sewage systems also.”

    “Good.” Philippe replied, he shifted slightly in the bed and felt Elisabeth’s hand on his leg, immediately he calmed, wondering if perhaps they would be able to produce another child today. “We want the reforms to continue at full speed now. Money should be moved towards those projects and nothing else.”

    “Very good, Sire.” Spinelli replied. “I shall inform the treasury of that.”

    Philippe nodded and then turned to look at his senior minister, Archbishop Pignatelli, a man who had served as Archbishop for a great many years and had been Philippe’s chief minister for as long as he had been King. “Your Eminence, you said that you had important information that needed to be shared?”

    “I do, Sire.” Pignatelli said. “There has been a letter from Versailles. It seems that the King of France is looking to arrange a marriage between a member of the Royal dynasty and His Royal Highness the Duke of Calabria.”

    Philippe leaned forward, he knew how important maintaining good ties with France was. His father may have died, but his brother Louis now sat the throne, and Louis was looking to completely change the way things were done. Philippe loved his older brother even if he didn’t always agree with his methods, and therefore if a marriage was being proposed he would seriously consider it. “Who is it that our brother of France is offering?”

    “A choice between his daughter Maria Anna Victoria and a daughter of the Duke of Orleans, Sire.” Pignatelli.

    “Why would the King of France offer both his own daughter and a daughter of Orleans?” Elisabeth asked then. “Surely it would be obvious to all involved that Madame Royal is the preferred option.”

    Philippe nodded. “He must be doing it to placate Orleans. After all, the mess that his daughter caused for our brother Charles no doubt means that Orleans is trying to find some way of providing a good marriage for his remaining daughter.” That had been quite the scandal and Philippe had mourned for his brother when he had died, he had been settled with a harridan of a wife, who had made him a cuckhold many times over and even given him the illness that had killed him.

    “I would not want our son married to a daughter of Orleans. They are all of a disagreeable temper.” Elisabeth said then.

    “Do not worry, dear wife,” Philippe replied. “I would never consign our son to such a fate.” He looked at Pignatelli and told him. “Send word to the French ambassador, we will betroth our son to our niece the Madame Royal.”

    Pignatelli bowed. “Sire.”

    “Now unless there is anything else you are all dismissed.” Philippe said waving a hand. The ministers bowed and departed, leaving Philippe alone with his wife. He looked at her then and asked. “Are you going to move your hand higher or keep it on my leg?”

    “Is that your wish, Sire?” His wife asked coyly.

    “It is my command.” Philippe replied, he groaned as he felt her slide her hand right over him.
     
    Chapter 118: An Emperor's Chosen
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    Chapter 118: An Emperor’s Chosen

    December, 1714


    “Gentlemen, thank you all for coming. We know that we summoned you here on short notice, but the reasoning behind this meeting is to solve a question that has caused us some concern over a period of time.” Azam Shah said. “We have finally reached a decision on who we wish to succeed us.”

    Azam saw that that had the desired effect, immediately the members of his council including his sons Bidar and Jawan were alert. “This man has shown great skill and courage in dealing with the most treacherous of circumstances. He ably put down a rebellion led by our cousin two years ago, and he has also aided us in bringing great change to the Empire. He is a paragon of princely virtue and a man known to you all. We have chosen to name our eldest son Bidar as our successor.”

    Bidar’s face was a blank mask as he took the congratulations from his brother and the other advisors. They both knew that this was a formality, the real test would come when Azam was dead, but for now Azam was confident his son would succeed. Eventually, Bidar looked at him and said. “Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty. I am most honoured.”

    “Continue in your good works, Bidar, and you will with time surpass even Akbar as the finest Emperor we have ever had.” Azam said truthfully.

    “To Prince Bidar and the Emperor!” Syed Abdullah Khan said then raising his cup in toast. The toast was repeated a great many times and there were many who sang and drank for some time, before eventually things settled down.

    When normalcy had returned, Azam spoke once more. “We have looked through the reports you have written Jawan, and we find ourselves concerned by how easily the English and the Marathas are at loggerheads. Who is it that has the right of way in that sea channel?”

    His second son, Jawan, who had a head for the legal game, spoke slowly and assuredly. “The English, Sire. They were granted the rights during the exchange of land between them and the Portuguese. As such they have the right to sole usage of the passageway between the Seven Islands and the mainland. The Marathas are merely claiming it as their own as they wish to have access to a stream independent to what we have given them.”

    “We see.” Azam said. He despised the Marathas, they were nothing more than upjumped stewards who dared to think that they could rule. If they weren’t as powerful as they were, he’d have crushed them himself long ago. But unfortunately, they had power and kept the peace with the Rajputs, therefore he had to placate them. “Decide in Rajaram’s favour and send word that in exchange for this we want his grandson sent to Delhi to be raised alongside your own grandson.”

    “Sire.” Jawan said making a note of it.

    “Then there is the issue of the Portuguese and the French.” Azam said looking at Bidar then.

    His eldest son and heir got right to the point. “The dispute there is little more than some technically dispute over political decisions that their Kings have made, Sire. The French are in the right and as they are providing a far more beneficial service to the army and navy I would recommend siding with them.”

    Azam nodded. “Very well, then that is what we shall do. Is there anything else?”

    When nobody else spoke, Azam rose, forcing the others to rise also. He nodded to each of them and then strode out of the chamber and towards the gardens. He knew he didn’t have much longer left, but he wanted to enjoy the things he loved one last time.
     
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