What if the backstabbing and skullduggery of the Age of Kings was happening today?
King Alfred II reigns over Great Britain.
Frustrated by the lack of real power of the modern monarchy, the King seizes back the power once wielded by his ancient ancestors.
But the world does not want to let him keep it...
In a history where Queen Elizabeth II never came to the throne, the British Royal Family turned out very differently.
This is my latest book, which I am serializing for you here on Steemit. You can buy this book on Amazon (clickable here) or any other online bookshop, both electronically and in print, or you can read it free right here.
I am also thinking of recording an audiobook of this title. Please let me know if you would like that.
I look forward to interacting with you. If you have any questions about the story, locations, characters, events, or background, please ask (though I will only answer them if it doesn’t require revealing spoilers!).
This book is the product of years of preparation, research, and writing. I hope you enjoy it!
Read on:
CHAPTER THREE - Rule (part 2 of 5)
Captain Roberts waited on the helicopter platform aboard the Duke-class frigate HMS Dominance. As the red-liveried Sikorsky helicopter neared the ship Roberts stood at attention, holding a naval salute.
Dominance rolled with the gentle waves, the pilot matching its movement to set the helicopter gently on the platform. At the edge of the landing surface a team of seamen waited with ropes and hooks in their hands.
As the aircraft’s tyres made contact with the helipad, the seamen went to work securing it.
Two men left the Sikorsky, approaching and saluting the Captain. “Permission to come aboard, sir?” the transferees said in turn, each greeted with the standard response, “Granted. Welcome aboard.”
Prince Adrian stepped out of the aircraft and saluted as he walked past the Captain.
“Granted. Welcome aboard, Your Highness,” Roberts said under his breath to the Prince’s back. He completed his salute. “Carry on, men,” he said, though one of the mechanics descending on the helicopter was a woman, and followed the Prince at a trot.
“Would you like to see your quarters, Your Highness?” Roberts spoke quietly and without enthusiasm as he caught up with Adrian.
“I’d prefer to see the bridge first. Might as well see where I’m going to be serving.”
“Of course,” Roberts said. “That would be this way.”
Winding their way through cramped corridors, stairs, and doors, they passed ratings and officers, each of whom stopped with some astonishment to salute the new captain and the old. The Prince smiled at each one as he returned their salutes, continuing to walk without breaking stride. For one particularly plain female rating he afforded a mere glance and a half-smile, but for the more attractive ratings he smiled warmly, slowed his pace, saluted with a flourish, and perhaps cast a second look at their departing figures.
“The Admiral has done me proud by offering me what must be the ship with the most attractive complement of female personnel.”
Roberts remained silent until he found opportunities for small talk, pointing out the functions of rooms on either side, and asking after the health of other members of the Royal family.
“Here we are, Your Highness.” The Captain stopped, and the Prince with him, in front of a door marked “BRIDGE”. There was no handle on the door, nor a pane of glass to allow outsiders to see in. Roberts pressed a domed palm-sized button set into the wall, and the door slid open with a whine of motors. “The nerve centre of this vessel. Have you been on the bridge on one of these ships before, Your Highness?”
“No, I earned my commission on the previous model.”
As they stepped through, a female voice half-shouted, “Captains on the bridge!”
All bridge personnel sprang to attention and saluted. Each one was dressed in a uniform of trousers, belt, and loose-fitting shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and a darker tee-shirt underneath, rank insignia in the centre of the chest and a name tape below the left shoulder, all in blue. The Prince smiled deliberately and returned their salutes.
“Welcome aboard, sirs,” the same voice said. Adrian looked at the speaker: a female commander, almost as tall as himself, with a slim figure, silky hair tied in a regulation ponytail, and a striking Indian face like that of a Bollywood starlet with less make-up. Staring at her just that moment too long, the Prince’s thoughts of this young officer were clear for all to see.
“Thank you, Commander,” Roberts said. “As you were.”
The Commander stepped forward. “I look forward to serving under you, sir,” she said to Adrian, her voice smooth with received pronunciation.
“‘Your Highness’ is the proper form of address,” Captain Roberts said, “for a member of the Royal family, Commander.”
“Of course. My apologies, Your Highness.” Colour added to her already sumptuous cheeks.
“Not necessary,” the Prince said. “‘Sir’ is a proper form of address for any officer, regardless of his family ties. I have no objection. Return to your duties, Commander…” He looked at the name tape stitched to her shirt. “…Indrani. The pleasure will be all mine.”
The Prince broadened his gaze to include all of the personnel on the bridge. “I look forward to serving with all of you.”
Indrani gave the Prince, at his request, a tour of the bridge, explaining the many technologies in view, and introducing the staff, whose names the Prince made a show of committing to memory.
Roberts glanced at his watch several times as the Prince asked questions, inspected screens, and leered at the Commander.
At length the Prince rejoined the Captain, and they departed the bridge to sighs of relief on both sides of the door.
“How do you find our ship, Your Highness?”
“I like the bridge immensely. And now, I’d like very much to see my quarters.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” The now-secondary Captain gestured with a quiet sigh for the Prince to follow him.
The two men made their way along corridors and stairways, the Prince continuing to eye the occasional attractive female crew member. Roberts stopped at a door.
“This is what used to be the officers’ conference room. The men have done an amazing job transforming it into my new quarters.” Captain Roberts stood with his hand on the door handle. “Would you like to have a look?”
The Prince shook his head. “Not necessary. Let’s move on.”
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
Presently they arrived at a door with a small plaque on it which read “CAPTAIN”.
“Ah! Here we are,” the Prince said, opening the door with excitement.
The ceiling was low and the space ungenerous. But the few furnishings and trappings were elegant. A desk with an old world appearance set the tone for everything else, including the bed, bookshelves, vanity stand, and a wood-panelled wall with a yacht’s wheel mounted on it.
“Well, it isn’t Clarence House,” Adrian said, “but it’ll do for now.”
A seaman arrived, carrying two leather-trimmed Mulberry cases, and behind him another seaman wheeling a matching medium-sized trunk held shut with gold-buckled leather straps.
“Your luggage, Your Highness,” the seaman with the trunk said.
“Oh, good,” the Prince said. “Now, you’ll need to unpack these quickly because I have a lot of work to do in here this afternoon. And take care not to disturb the creases.” The Prince nodded to the Captain and smiled, continuing under his breath, “Good thing I don’t have to tip the staff.”
Roberts smiled back. “That isn’t how we do things nowadays, Your Highness. Everyone, from top to bottom, handles his own gear.”
“Ah.” Adrian glanced from the Captain to the seamen who were waiting to see whose will would win out. “I suppose I mustn’t upset naval culture. Hundreds of years of tradition, hey?”
Captain Roberts gave the seamen a nod. They left without any delay.
“With your permission, Your Majesty, I’ll leave you to get settled in and get on with your work. If there’s anything else you need, just call your orderly.”
“If there’s anything I need, Dickie,” the Prince said, “I shall call you. You will be acting as my exec. After all, a ship doesn’t need two captains.”
Roberts narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips. “I see. In that case, what are your orders, Your Highness?”
“Is there any hope,” the Prince said with a sarcastic smirk, “that my orders will actually be obeyed? I mean, if you can’t even second a rating to unpack my things for me…”
“Oh, they’ll be obeyed, sir. Immediately, and to the letter.”
“I trust they will. Then we sail for the Port of Edinburgh.”