Wings Of The Morning Part 1

Wings of the Morning.

Kensington Chronicles.

Lori Wick.

During the nineteenth century, the palace at Kensington represented the n.o.ble heritage of Britain's young queen and the simple elegance of a never-to-be-forgotten era. The Victorian Age was the pinnacle of England's dreams, a time of sweeping adventure and gentle love. It is during this time, when hope was bright with promise, that this series is set.

8 maine coastline 1828.

the two little boys ran up the sandy beach, fiercely brandis.h.i.+ng their sticks as swords. As the older boy at the rear drew close, the smaller boy dashed up into the rocks to escape. He turned and shouted to his brother from his lofty position.

"It's my turn to be Clancy for a while. You can be the pirate."

"No, I'm bigger, and that makes me a better Clancy."

"But you're always Clancy," the younger boy complained.

"That's because he always wins," his brother told him logically.

The younger boy flopped down on the rock, his "sword"

lying forgotten at his side. His brother climbed up to join him, their gazes stretching out over the Atlantic Ocean.

"Do you suppose Clancy really did all those things we hear about, the races and stas.h.i.+ng the s.h.i.+p's hold with gold and jewels?"

"Of course," the older boy spoke with a.s.surance, although he had no proof. "He was the best sailor in all the world."

"His s.h.i.+p," the younger lad had caught the fever now.

9"Please tell me about his s.h.i.+p."

The older boy's chest swelled "None faster in all the Atlantic. Why, his s.h.i.+p was the fastest s.h.i.+p in all the world."

The younger boy let out a gusty sigh, as his gaze went to the sea once again.

"Do you suppose he's still alive?"

"Alive? Don't be ridiculous," his brother scoffed "Why, he'd probably be over a hundred years old if he were alive today!"

The younger boy looked so crestfallen, the older boy took pity on him.

"It doesn't matter. We know he was the greatest sailor to ever live. It's enough to know that he was born and raised in Maine and that there will never be another Clancy..."

"What's this, Papa?" the tiny moppet in the tub asked her attentive father.

He tickled her tummy before answering. "Why, that's your navel, Smokey."

The small three-year-old giggled and stood, dripping wet, to leave the tub. Her father, Clancy Simmons, was waiting with a piece of toweling. He wrapped her snugly and took the chair by the stove in his cabin, placing Smokey in his lap to keep her warm.

"I have five toes, Papa," she told him proudly, as she examined the foot that protruded from the edge of the towel.

"You forgot a foot," Clancy told her. "You have ten toes."

qr t"Po you have ten toes?" Smokey wanted to know. Her ***i;smokey gray eyes stared with rapt attention into his fc*4face.

ped, I do. It's how G.o.d made all of us."

Bitted away, and within minutes Smokey was in her d back in her father's lap. The warmth of the sntle rocking of the s.h.i.+p lulled her to sleep just moments later. Clancy was standing over her bunk, watching her still form, when his first mate, Da.r.s.ey, joined him.

Da.r.s.ey stood quietly watching the bent, graying head of his captain and wondered at his thoughts.

"It's hard to believe she'll be four this summer," Clancy spoke softly.

"Aye, Captain," Da.r.s.ey agreed. "My sister says they grow up before your eyes, but that it happens so fast you still feel as though it's been a magician's trick."

"Vicky would have loved her to distraction," Clancy went on softly. His mate had no reply.

"Well, now," Clancy spoke bracingly after a short pause, obviously needing to pull his mind away from painful times.

"Here I am getting all soppy and putting Smokey in a wedding dress when she's barely out of wet drawers. I've got my G.o.d, my s.h.i.+p, my men, and years to enjoy my daughter. I would ask for nothing more..."

"I'm not asking you, Smokey; I'm telling you. Mr. Tucker is joining us this voyage, and you are going to study with him."

"I don't need this Mr. Tucker. I like studying with Da.r.s.ey."

Her small arms were folded across her thin chest, and her small chin was tilted aggressively.

"You're eight years old, Smokey--" Clancy's voice was gentle, "long past the time you should know how to read and cipher. You've got Da.r.s.ey wrapped around your finger, and whenever you don't feel the need to study, you talk your way out of it. It will be different with Mr. TUcker."

Smokey made no reply, and Clancy sternly held her eyes with his own. He expected her to yield at any time and admit that she needed training, but if anything her chin rose yet again, and Clancy knew that stern measures were needed.

"You'll not set foot in the galley, climb on the rigging, or

10.

11.

spend more than two hours on deck each day until you can read two pages to me from a book."

All arrogance deserted Smokey, and her small shoulders drooped. Da.r.s.ey had joined them to speak to the captain, but stayed silent when he heard Clancy's ultimatum.

"Do you mean that?" Smokey asked, her voice small.

"I'm afraid I do," Clancy's voice was kind "Your schooling is important, and I love you too much to ignore it."

"All right," Smokey spoke after just a moment, her chin tilted once again, this time with determination. "I'll study with Mr. Ibcker. I'll learn to read and write and do my numbers.

You just see if I don't!"

Both men watched her walk away, one with admiration and one consumed with worry.

"Doesn't it bother you, Captain," Da.r.s.ey asked, "that with Smokey you don't take her toys away, but instead forbid her to climb in the rigging?"

Clancy laughed and clapped the younger man on the back.

"Da.r.s.ey, you're a young man, much too young to be such a worrier. She's never cared for dolls. And as you can see, my words did the trick. She'll learn to read, and that's what I wanted"

Clancy, well satisfied with the pa.s.sage of events, went on his way. Da.r.s.ey, wanting to trust his legendary captain, continued with his work...

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"Smokey," he began after a moment of silence, hoping none of his men would need him just now, "people love to create heroes and wors.h.i.+p the legends of their own imaginations.

They also love to exaggerate," he added softly.

"What do you mean?" Smokey's sweet, ten-year-old face studied her father intently.

"I mean that the escapades IVe pulled have been stretched until they are of monumental proportions. Why, to do all of the things they claim Clancy has done, I'd have to be 200 years old."

"But you have done some great things, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have," he admitted honestly. "I've always sailed fast s.h.i.+ps, and in my younger days I would never pa.s.s up a wager or a dare. My father taught me well, and I've sailed into port more than once with a holdful of valuables, sometimes worth a small fortune. But there was no magic in it. I work hard, and I'm a man who keeps my word Put simply, the merchants trust me. I deliver, and quickly I might add When something special comes their way, they send word to me.

"And don't forget that I was named after my father. He was a sailor too, not as foolhardy as I've been at times, but a sailor nevertheless. The name Clancy has been on the seas far longer than my 60 years."

Smokey stared at her father as though seeing him for the first time. The look did not please the older man.

"I'm still your father, Smokey." Clancy spoke with his heart in his eyes. "I'm still the man who loves you to distraction. I've never wanted to be a hero or a legend to you, just a good father, bringing you up G.o.d's way."

Smokey moved from her chair then, her young arms going around his neck. They embraced, and the young girl's anxious thoughts melted away. It mattered not what they said about him, truth or fiction. He was the most wonderful father a girl could have. His words had eliminated all doubts and fears.

12.

"I'm afraid, Papa," Smokey cried from her bunk as the waves tossed their craft as though it were a toy, high and low over the sea.

"There's nothing to fear, Smokey," the older man's face was calm as he sat on the edge of her bunk and took her in his arms. "You were only nine when you trusted Christ to save you from your sins, and now you must trust Him again in this storm. If our s.h.i.+p is going down, then it's His time."

A moment pa.s.sed, and Smokey began to pray out loud as she had done so many times before. When she finished talking to the Lord, Clancy added his own prayers with quiet confidence.

When he had finished, he waited for the question. She asked it every time there was a storm, and Gancy could never deny her.

"Will you tell me about Mama?"

"She loved you," Clancy told her without preamble. "And she wanted you for years. We weren't married until I was nearly 40, and she thought she'd always be a spinster schoolarm, without a husband or children of her own."

"But you came along," Smokey prodded him.

"That's right, and it was love at first sight. She gave notice to the school board, and we were married that summer. We both a.s.sumed we would have children right away, but it wasn't to be. We waited years, and had actually given up. Then G.o.d gifted us with you."

"And you named me after Mama."

"That's right. She didn't want it, but I love the name Victoria, so she gave in."

Then she died," Smokey added on a soft, somber note.

"Yes. It was G.o.d's time, and I know she's with Him,"

ocy's voice was equally quiet. "She wasn't a young woman, fr body just seemed so worn out after the birth. She had (erly aunt and a sister who offered to take you, but I ft leave you. I knew your place was with me. If only feer could see you now. Twelve years old." Clancy e until that moment that she'd finally fallen

13.

asleep. The storm still raged without, but Smokey was now in dreamland.