by Derek Gorman
“You really are too easy to wind up,” said the King. “I know all about your loyalty and I value it. Now pour me another.”
And with that, Lord Sinclair had a slight grin on his face. A bead of sweat dripped off his forehead, which he wiped clear before pouring themselves an extra whisky.
The King then continued, “The fact that some people don’t understand their love for me is down to the vipers on this planet but what really worries me is necromancy.”
“What is necromancy?” interrupted Lord Sinclair.
“Necromancy is the prediction of the future by communicating with the dead,” replied the King, surprised that Lord Sinclair didn’t know. “Nostradamus is the worst. He pretended that his predictions were all because of astrology, but what a load of crock. The only way he can predict the future accurately is by communicating with the dead. They are on the other side and have access to things we can only dream of. I fear the other side. Homer unlocked this passage when Odysseus travelled to the underworld and now we have demons roaming alongside us with these witches, communicating with them and causing ghastly things to happen.”
“I too fear them. The power of these witches needs to be curtailed. Why England repelled the Witchcraft Act for a few years before reinstating it is beyond me,” said a puzzled Lord Sinclair.
The weather suddenly turned, and storms appeared on the horizon.
“Witches, even thinking and talking about them can conjure up some dangerous events,” said the King. “Look at that storm. Some witch somewhere has brought that on the people of this area. That they can fly invisibly too means they are a threat to the land. I also don’t like the celebrations with the chanting and dancing. They induce sexual deviancy in people. Who knows what goes in those potions?”
Suddenly a lightning bolt shot through in the distance, crashing through with a sound of thunder.
“Enough talking about these witches, let’s get back to the party. I fear we are making things worse,” said the King.
They then both headed downstairs back to the rest of the guests who had now re-convened in the banqueting hall.
Upon entering the hall, the King was still shaken by the discussion on witchcraft and the weather outside wasn’t helping. He therefore had a bit of fun and beckoned the gentlemen to him, saying it was time for Noddy. He then headed back upstairs to his quarters with the Lords and the Ambassador following behind him. There was no place for Andrew, a reminder that whilst he might have been invited to this event, he wasn’t one of them. The poets, whilst highly enjoyed by the King, were not aristocracy and were rarely treated as such.
Noddy was a popular card game at the time, where the aim of the game was to score 31 points and therefore get the noddy. A noddy was a fool or simpleton. The game was played in pairs.
“Come, you’ll play with me,” instructed the King to Lord Sinclair. “We’ll take on Maitland and the Ambassador. Good luck chaps.”
“Servant. Come,” bellowed the King. Immediately a servant ran into the room with a cribbage board. A way of keeping score of the game.
“Right, let’s begin. Usual stakes,” said the softly spoken King. Usually this meant £100 to the winning team and if the King lost, then he would fail to pay up, promising to send a servant with the cash in a day or two but then conveniently forgetting to ensure this happened. The King was famous for wagering on card games or on Golf but rarely paid out any losses.
The first part of the game was to see who would go first, so they would each cut the deck to see who chose the lowest card. First up was the Ambassador. He picked a King. Everyone chuckled. Then it was Lord Maitland’s turn. He drew an eight. Lord Sinclair drew a nine. It was then the King’s turn who picked a four and would therefore start the game.
Lord Sinclair dealt hands to everyone. Each player ended up with three cards each. There was one card in the centre which was a seven of hearts. The aim of the game was to get as close to 31 without going over. There was much commotion as players swapped cards and then the scoring begun. The King had 30. Lord Maitland had 27. Lord Sinclair 29 and the Ambassador refused to show his cards.
“First,” began the Ambassador. “I must inform you all that whilst you may think of me as someone who has already seen their best days. My luck is just ahead of.” He then guffawed as he threw down his cards. He had 31.
Everyone sighed and gesticulated wildly, as only the finest gentlemen could do after a few drinks of beer that were served during the round.
“Your majesty, I ask not of the £100 prize money but merely a two minute audience with yourself,” enquired the Ambassador.
“Hey! What about my share of the £100?” asked Lord Maitland.
The rest of the gentlemen sniggered. Even one of the servants in proximity found it difficult to control himself.
“Nonsense, you will have the £100 but I will grant you a two minute audience regardless,” said the King.
Whilst this was a generous gesture. Everyone knew that the money would not be forthcoming. The rest of the group therefore headed back down to the banquet, leaving the King and the Ambassador. The servants had left as well.
“Your Majesty, many think of me as an old fool, but the New World is the future. Mark my words, in times to come it will be an empire and frontier that will pave unlimited riches for he who is brave enough to conquer it.”
This peaked the King’s interest.
“Whilst the recent expeditions by the English have been unsuccessful,” continued the Ambassador. “There is untapped potential. Previous issues have been the strategy taken. Guns or butter has been the problem. Previous expeditions have either been too focused on either the military side or the trading side. The solution requires balance. That way the indigenous people will respect and fear your armies but will welcome them for all that they can bring.”
“Thank-you for bringing this to me, Ambassador. I know you have been mocked for your investment opportunity, but I think the Kingdom of England and Scotland will be the world’s superpower. This Kingdom has been descended from God and I, like Banquo’s descendants, will sit upon its throne. The world will then be ours.” And with that the King went off back to the banqueting hall, leaving the Ambassador scratching his head. Banquo was part of Holinshed's Chronicles, a comprehensive description of English and Scotland’s history published a few years earlier. In history, Banquo was a supporter of Macbeth helping him become King at the expense of King Duncan. The Ambassador wasn’t sure why this was relevant. He figured that it was King James’s belief that as a descendent of Banquo, the throne was rightfully his. And with that thought he eventually rejoined the main party downstairs.
It was now time for the part of the evening that the King particularly enjoyed. It was customary for an auction to be held before enormous events such as marriages, entries to positions of state, or baptisms. However, this wasn’t a normal auction where Lords battled over paintings of landscapes or memorable war battles. It was a wedding auction. This is where the guests would battle over who would have the honour to provide, or pay for, certain items that would be used on the occasion.
King James was famous for being extravagant and spending all of his annual budget plus borrowing on top so occasions such as this that allowed him to gain further resources was a highlight for him.
Lord Sinclair gathered all the guests to the front of the banquet hall, where they stood with Lord Sinclair on a makeshift platform overlooking everyone. In his hand was a hammer which he banged against the edge of the table. He would be the auctioneer for the evening, a wise move as it meant that he couldn’t take part in the auction himself. Although, there was an expectation that Lady Sinclair would bid on his behalf. This could have gone either way - she could be too feeble and therefore lose out in the bidding saving themselves a fortune or the complete opposite by not wanting to offend the King she may overbid and they will be significantly out of pocket.
“Lords, Ladies, and Gentleman,” bellowed Lord Sinclair. “In honour of
the King’s impending marriage to Anne of Denmark, we will now hold an auction to allow people the privilege to either provide or pay for items that are required for the wedding. The first item is transportation. An important part of any wedding is the manner in which the bride and groom will reach the church. And a King and future Queen must travel in the manner they are accustomed to. Who will cover the cost of transporting Anne of Denmark and the King on the day of the wedding?”
“I will offer 2 horses,” shouted the Ambassador, getting the bidding going.
“Do you expect the King and Queen to ride themselves to the Church?” Replied auctioneer Lord Sinclair mocking the bid. The Ambassador realising the error of his ways blushed with embarrassment,
“I will offer 2 carriages and 4 horses,” offered Lord Maitland. A much better offer and more than sufficient for the travel.
“I will offer 2 carriages and 6 horses,” responded Lady Sinclair. This was more generous, although carriages didn’t need so many horses - it was a status symbol to have excess horses on one’s carriage.
“I will offer 2 carriages, 6 horses, and 2 footmen,” countered Lord Maitland. This would have been the clincher, thought Lord Sinclair.
“Right,” said Lord Sinclair. “Do we have any more bids? Going once. Going twice. Sold. Well done to Lord Maitland, who has the honour of providing the transportation!
Now we move onto the next category, which is jewellery. As any female knows, a bride on her wedding day has dreamed of the moment she gets to drape herself in jewels from an early age. Just imagine the dreams that a member of the Danish Royal Household would have had as a young girl.”
“I will offer to provide both rings,” said the Ambassador, again being careful to be seen to be bidding but realising that he couldn’t really afford to bid too much.
“You may have misheard me, Ambassador,” said Lord Sinclair. “The King is marrying into the Danish Royal Household. Not a wench who served in the Nags Head pub on weekends.”
Everyone sniggered at the lowball bid by the Ambassador and Lord Sinclair’s merciless teasing of him.
Someone at the back chipped in and was heard sniggering saying “I don’t think bronze rings are eligible.”
“I will offer to cover both gold rings and a diamond for the bride,” said Lady Sinclair. Lord Sinclair was pleased with this. It was an excellent offer but was likely to be outbid so saving them a hefty bill.
“I will offer to cover both gold rings, a diamond for the bride and jewellery for all the maid of honours,” offered William Fowler. The hall gasped at this offer. It was an enormous surprise that a poet could offer so much but poets were lauded as the superstars of the day so this would naturally have come from his admirers, maybe some of it from the King himself.
“Well. What an offer! Ambassador, are you paying attention? That is how it is done. I doubt we’ll see any more bids? Going once, going twice. Sold!” said Lord Sinclair.
“Now we move onto the last category, the one we all love, which is Whisky and Wine. As we all know, you can’t have a wedding celebration without some lubricant to make the evening go quicker. And on a momentous occasion, it won’t be some swill bought from the Nags Head Pub that will be served. We need the quality stuff.”
“One case of wine and one case of whisky,” said the Ambassador, again being careful to be seen to be bidding but realising that he couldn’t really afford to bid too much.
“Ambassador, you’ve made the auction,” began Lord Sinclair. “I appreciate your bidding and thank-you for accepting the polite ribbing in the right manner.”
The Ambassador didn’t appreciate being patronised in this way, but he just bit his tongue and grinned politely.
“I will offer three cases of wine and three cases of whisky,” said Andrew Melville, getting involved for the first time. Not a poor offer for someone who was an employee in the Royal Household.
Then it was the moment for Lord Maitland to get involved. He felt that William’s offer in the last round had made him a star, which he didn’t appreciate so he would not hold back.
“I will offer ten cases of wine, ten cases of whisky including one case of the Guild of Surgeon Barbers, Dundee, and five hundred thousand pints of beer - for the wedding and all of Scotland.” said Lord Maitland to a stunned audience.
The King immediately came over to Lord Maitland, shook his hand and patted him on the back. It really was a very generous gesture, and one that cemented his status as one of the richest men in Scotland and one of the most influential men in the King’s court.
“Well, unless the Ambassador has a counter offer, then I think we may be done. Ambassador?” asked Lord Sinclair.
The Ambassador shook his head, slightly annoyed that he was still the focus of people’s amusement.
“That concludes the auction everybody. Please take your seats for dinner, which will begin shortly,” said Lord Sinclair invitingly.
Everyone took their places on the benches, except for the King, who sat in his throne-esque chair. The music was playing, creating a warm atmosphere, and the audience were conversing amongst themselves. There was a hive of activity behind them with servants rushing all over the place. The weather outside had also improved with storms now just a distant memory. Stomachs could be heard rumbling, so the food arriving shortly would be perfectly timed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE MEAL
The servants were scrambling all over the place running from the inner courtyard up the stairs to the banqueting hall delivering knives and spoons. Each guest bought their own cutlery for an event such as this. It would have been an incredible faux pas to have forgotten or expect the host to provide one. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the poet Mark. In front of him was a fork.
“What on earth is that?” asked Andrew who was sitting opposite him.
“Why, it is a fork. It’s what sophisticated people in France use,” replied Mark in a condescending tone.
There was a lot of aspiration in Scottish society and items from France were seen as sophisticated and exotic. Eating with a fork would be an exotic act that just made little sense to most people. The King from his seat at the end of the table cast a glance at this fork sitting on the table but said nothing. You could tell that he had made a mental note, given his love for all things French and exotic.
The love of France was really a nod to the power that the country had. Paris was the most populated city in all of Europe with their population reaching a mind-boggling 350,000. The Louvre was the King’s official residence, and the City was beaming with renaissance style architecture. It was something that King James could only have dreamed about. The renaissance influence wasn’t just limited to architecture, but it was also a cultural movement. The way people thought and were educated. The way international diplomacy was carried out. The way man thought about god, science, and art were all merged into one. It was an actual birth of a fresh way of thinking, a superior way. Paris really was a masterpiece and the heart of France. Only a year earlier, lanterns were being lit on every street corner at night to ensure visibility for all. That didn’t even happen in Knockhall Castle - let alone in a city for 350,000 people!
It’s true that France had its problems with the struggles between Catholics and Protestants but that was nothing unusual. Almost every country in Europe had those struggles, and it was expected that a country as special as France would be fought over. It was therefore this love of all things French that meant that Mark’s fork was a hit, even if people didn’t want to admit it.
The guests were all seated on benches either side of the King who was at the head of the table. It was now time for the Poets to make a welcoming speech. Mark and William stood up and burst into poetic speech.
“King, Father, Lord, God, Almighty One.
Thank the stars that bring us here.
A mighty sky, a bright dawn, heroic silence.
Breaks the waves, motioning down.
King, Father, Lord, God, Almighty One.
Let the Banquet commend everyone.”
And with that - they bowed and awaited for rapturous applause for their latest poetic masterpiece. The guests duly obliged.
During the applause Lady Sinclair asked Lord Sinclair, “did that make any sense to you?”
“No, it’s that typical pretentious artsy nonsense that sounds sophisticated because it’s said with a Scottish-French accent,” confirmed Lord Sinclair.
They both stifled a slight giggle before Mark sat down. William then announced, “I also have a special poem for the King but it is very exclusive, a gift from heaven, so only the King’s ears may hear it. Your Majesty, if I may, please join me upstairs.”
William then bowed awaiting the King’s response. The King motioned his hand to signify his agreement, and he then followed William out of the room. William said nothing to the King but kept walking a few steps ahead of him. They went upstairs and ended up in the King’s bedchamber for the night.
William motioned for the King to join him on his bed and to get comfortable. William took off his jacket and stood a few feet in front of the King.
“Do you remember what I used to teach you?” asked William.
“How hilarious. Yes, you helped to improve my memory with your exercises,” confirmed the King.
“Well, close your eyes and tell me... what colour are my eyes?”
“Brown,” answered the King.
“And what are the size of my muscles?” asked William.
“Big,” answered the King, slightly flustered.
William then took the King’s hands and got him to feel his muscles. They were tense and showed the strength of a man who was artistic and yet could have been working on ships or doing manual labour. And with that, William suddenly changed direction and asked, “teach me some poetry”.
During their sessions over the last few years, it was poetry that the King had fostered within William.