Peril on the Sea (20 page)

“My lord had the correct impression,” said Fletcher with a smile. “But my fortunes have been known to alter.”

“Her Majesty wants to send you to Mexico and Southern
America, to disrupt the Spanish ports there. She seeks to follow up King Philip's disastrous naval blunder with a strike against his American strongholds. She will reward you, Fletcher, with great generosity. Our gracious Queen realizes that she has until now partly underestimated your value.”

“My lord,” said Fletcher, his keen spirits now completely recovered, “I should have thought that raids like the one you suggest were more in Drake's line.”

“Oh, Drake,” sighed the admiral despairingly. “The celebrated Drake took prizes during the sea battle, if you can believe it. He doused his stern lamps and raided Spanish ships—Captain Frobisher complained most heatedly, and I can't blame him.”

“My lord,” said Fletcher, with perfect blandness, “I am shocked.”

“Drake's reputation is besmirched, Fletcher. Quite soiled, for the moment. Her Majesty seeks to send you to America to your great profit in his stead, to the enduring harm of Spain.”

Sherwin was thrilled, but at the same time aghast at the fear that Fletcher, through an excess of caution or some seaman's dodge, might decline this opportunity for wealth and adventure.

Fletcher gave Sherwin a glance and seemed to understand the younger man's fears and hopes entirely.

“My gentle associate,” said the captain, “would not forgive me if I stepped aside from such a challenge.”

But the admiral was already changing the subject, turning to satisfy his curiosity. “And, good Sherwin, what role have you played in this great victory?”

“Is it a victory, then, my lord?”

“Yes, entirely. The Spanish have been whipped by wind and our brave mariners, all the way up around the green island of Her Majesty's kingdom, and even now the remaining vessels are wrecked, I am told, on the Irish coastline. The peasants there cut throats and strip the bodies of the useless Spanish army.”

“My lord,” said Sherwin, in a voice of hushed compassion, “what a sad end.”

The admiral gave a laugh, not of joy, but of suddenly weary acknowledgment, and an atmosphere of heartfelt relief hung over his lordship, making him appear almost humble for a moment.

“Sherwin is going to pen my history,” offered Captain Fletcher. “So it can be printed, or staged, as Her Majesty's licensers might allow.”

The admiral showed every sign of hearty interest, stirring from his brief reverie. “Will it be like your exceptional
The King of Spain Bearded in His Den and His Staunchest Ships Reduced to Kindling
?”

“My lord,” said Sherwin, surprised and gratified that Lord Howard knew his work, “I hope much better.”

“A history in Latin, or in English?” asked the admiral.

“In Our Gracious Majesty's own tongue, my lord, if it please you.”

“Let's hear some of it,” said the Lord Admiral.

Sherwin had not been prepared for this, but he took a deep breath and said,

“Until I sing, and name each species
in the garden of my affection, I am desert.”

Both men were quiet.

“Noble lines, although incomplete,” said the admiral at last.

“That is always his problem, my lord,” agreed the captain.

“But I think,” said the admiral with a sympathetic smile, “they are not lines quite made for Captain Fletcher. My good Sherwin, I believe you are in love.”

I
F THERE WAS anything more beautiful than the advance of a sailing vessel, Katharine could not imagine what it might be.

There was no doubt—the weathered ship with the bright new mainmast was the
Rosebriar
, and she was close enough that the figures of men could be seen on the sterncastle, shielding their eyes with gloved hands. A distant cap waved.

Was that small, muted little sound the cry of voices? They were unmistakably happy voices, cheered at the sight of the griffin, and perhaps also by the company of the admiral's flagship.

Nothing can be predicted, she knew. No fortune-teller could foresee what gifts the hours of darkness or the next morning might bring—or snatch away. But as Sherwin joined her on the quarterdeck, she felt his shadow pass across her in the afternoon sun. She felt the protectiveness of Sherwin's hand on hers.

If only, she thought, Fletcher was not going to claim two-thirds of the
Rosebriar
's wealth. Her father would be badly surprised at the arrangement she had been forced to make, and she did not look forward to telling him.

Her moment of daydream with Sherwin was interrupted by the admiral. His lordship stepped upon the quarterdeck, accompanied by Captain Fletcher.

“You wanted to intercept the
Rosebriar
, my lady, as I guess,” said the admiral, “so that she might not fall into the hands of creditors.”

Katharine was dismayed. “My lord, you misunderstand.”

“My spies, my lady,” said the admiral with a quiet smile, “keep me informed of the smallest matter.”

The admiral's glance took in the assembled crew, lined up along the deck, but Katharine thought that his lordship gave Cecil Rawes an especially appreciative nod, and that the big Yorkshireman could not suppress a smile in return.

Cecil Rawes had been an individual rarely in her thoughts, a hulking squire who had kept to the shadows. She was shocked at how little she had perceived about him, and about so many things in her life. Katharine felt the already reduced promise of this day slip away even further. “My lord, my father is a principled man.”

The admiral leaned close and said confidingly, “And Pevensey is a brute, I understand.”

“My Lord Admiral,” she said, “perhaps, after all, appreciates my position.”

“And how much,” asked the admiral, “is Fletcher's share in the
Rosebriar
's proceeds, if I may ask?”

Fletcher and Sherwin had drawn near, and Katharine nearly blurted out the truth—that the captain would carry off the lion's share.

“The original arrangement was one-third, was it not?” said Sherwin with a purposeful glance at Fletcher. “Surely, Captain, you will prove a man of your word.”

The captain gave a grave smile.

Inwardly, however, Captain Fletcher was relieved.

His relief was as deep and complex as any thanksgiving he had ever felt. He was grateful to Providence that in the bitter aftermath of Highbridge's death, the ship and her crew had been spared.

The recent news from the Crown was further cause for joy.

The promised knighthood would brighten his name, and Her Gracious Majesty's willingness to allow Fletcher a larger share of future winnings was welcome, too. But as for any grand scheme to raid Spanish galleons in American waters—Fletcher would wait and see what developed. He did not want to make Drake's mistake of hunting more birds than he could kill.

What added to the captain's relief was the fact that Lord Howard had not asked to inspect the ship's private account books, nor did he ask to examine the contents of Fletcher's strongboxes. Fletcher had poured gold into Her Majesty's treasury, but he had cheated her, too. Little by little, over the years, the captain had kept back more than
his legal allotment. He had shared these embezzled riches with his crew, and in fair portions, but Fletcher knew that traitors had been disemboweled, castrated, and beheaded for lesser crimes.

“That
was
the understanding,” said the captain at last.

He was all too aware that Sherwin and Katharine could embarrass him in the presence of Lord Howard, and yet there was a further reason Fletcher was pleased to reduce his share.

Like a man hiding a fault from himself, Fletcher was succumbing to warm affection for Sherwin and Katharine. He wished them a long life together, safe from men with fewer scruples than his own. He was relieved to find a way to frustrate his own greed.

“Lady Katharine,” he added, “I shall be pleased to share one-third of the
Rosebriar
's prize, as we agreed at your father's table.”

Katharine clasped her hands together in joy.

The Lord Admiral glanced at Captain Fletcher. “You'll bring the
Rosebriar
in to Southampton, under my care.” He inquired of Katharine, “The vessel is conveying cinnamon, as I have been told, is it not?”

“And dyestuff,” she said, feeling the increasing stirrings of hope. “Brazil wood and logwood.”

“The cargo,” he said, “will be under Her Majesty's seal.”

Katharine was afraid that she might have misunderstood, and she faltered. “Are you, my lord, impounding our shipment?”

Lord Howard looked authentically dismayed. For an
instant he lost the jaunty if overbearing quality that matched the angle of his plumed cap, and he looked like an official exhausted nearly beyond patience.

“What ill-treatment you expect of Her Gracious Majesty,” he said.

Katharine put a hand on his arm. “These last days, my lord, have tested all of us.”

He gave her a fatigued but appreciative smile. “My lady Katharine, I am arranging to purchase the entire cargo on behalf of the Crown. I promise you that in her pleasure with Captain Fletcher's brave service, the Queen's price will be generous.”

Katharine allowed herself to feel happiness again. “You, my lord, are a godsend.”

“Perhaps,” said Lord Howard. “But Her Majesty will be pleased to have a monopoly on all the cinnamon and dyes in London for the next few months. Think what a profit she will make!”

 

AS THE ROSEBRIAR approached, Sherwin watched the gulls spin and wheel, touching down on their reflections in the shifting, mirrored blue of the sea.

If there was one shadow across his happiness, it was that his father would never know Katharine.

But as the crew of the
Rosebriar
heard the news of England's victory, delivered in clear tones through Captain Fletcher's speaking trumpet, they cheered. This happy sound reached back across the water,
God save our Queen
sounding like quite a different message.

The ring.

Give Katharine the ring
.

The signet ring, with the greyhound symbol. If his father had been alive to speak, that would have been his message.

 

A GREAT PUFF of white appeared along the prow of the
Rosebriar
, the merchant vessel firing one of her forward guns. The sharp report of the brass piece resounded through the light afternoon winds, and Katharine was taken aback.

“It's a salute,” Sherwin reassured her with a laugh, “a signal of joyfulness.”

As the
Rosebriar
swept forward, leaving her smoke to settle on the water, Sherwin placed a circlet of gold in Katharine's hand.