King of Storms

Chapter 1

Edinburgh Castle Royal Apartments, Tuesday, June 4, 1381
The Earl of Fife, effectively ruler of Scotland, sat comfortably at a table before the fire in his favorite chamber in David's Tower, preparing documents for his father's signature and royal seal. Fife enjoyed ruling Scotland and saw no reason to anticipate anything but that he would continue to do so for many years to come.
Tall and lanky with dark hair and stern features, he wore all black as was his custom, and although well into his fortieth year, he was a fit man and one with few illusions. As great-grandson of Robert the Bruce and third son of the High King of Scots, Fife was politically astute, ruthless, affable--when affability proved useful--and eminently competent. He understood power, wanted more of it, and for the past few years had been taking more and more of it into his own long, slender hands.
Fife knew he was more capable of ruling Scotland than his aging, half-blind, rapidly failing father, the King, or his incompetent, disinterested elder brother, the Earl of Carrick. But, thanks to a foolish notion of Robert the Bruce's that the King's eldest son must succeed him, Carrick was presently heir to the crown.
Before Bruce altered the process, Scottish nobles had chosen their kings. They did not believe, as the English and French liked to pretend they did, that kings were divinely ordained. The King of Scots was merely the preeminent clan chief. He did not possess a royal army or navy but was completely dependent on the goodwill of his nobles to produce ships and men in support of his causes.
Had Bruce not decreed that the eldest son or nearest male kinsman must succeed, no Stewart could have become King of Scots, because too many noblemen considered the Stewarts upstarts. Even their name was new, derived from his father's previous position as High Steward to the King. Robert the Steward had become Robert II only because he had been David II's nearest male kin when David died childless.
But the way in which the Stewarts had come to power did not concern Fife now. The past was the past, and he knew he would be able to control Carrick as easily as he now controlled their father, but he hoped instead to succeed to the throne himself. He knew that leaders of the Scottish Parliament, given a choice, would always support a strong man over a weak one. More importantly, given sufficient cause, they could legally override Bruce's succession order.
The fact was that both his father and brother were too weak to rule a country rife with noblemen who wielded vast power over their clansmen, knew their own minds, and heartily resented any outside authority. Fife believed he had already shown himself strong enough to rule them and that he therefore deserved to be King. What he did not know was how far he would have to go to seize that right.
He believed he was capable of doing whatever he deemed necessary, but he preferred to produce tangible proof of his greater abilities, proof so clear that the leaders of Parliament would be unable to resist it. A year ago, he had thought such proof lay nearly within his grasp. But foully betrayed, he had failed to capture it.
Still, it was his experience that one could always create new opportunities. One merely had to keep one's eyes open to the omens and prepare for eventualities. His new ship, the Serpent Royal, was such a preparation.
As he finished the last document, a minion rapped to announce a visitor.
"The Chevalier de Gredin, my lord."
Stunned to hear the name, especially in view of the path his rambling thoughts had taken, Fife nodded permission, pushed the documents aside, and watched narrow-eyed as the chevalier entered and made him a sweeping bow.
Etienne, Chevalier de Gredin, ten years younger than the earl, was more colorfully if not as richly attired, and clearly fancied himself a dashing fellow.