Exactly, the young man says, his face suddenly animated. It is the first projection of the globe designed specifically for navigation at sea. Mercators great achievement is to alter the lines of latitude to account for the curvature of the Earth. It means we can now plot a ships course on a constant bearing- He catches sight of Drakes face and swallows the rest of his explanation. Forgive me, I am running on.
My clerk, Gilbert Crosse. Drake gestures to the young man with an indulgent smile as he eases out from behind the table. Gilbert, these are our visitors newly arrived on the Leicester Captain Knollys, Sir Philip Sidney and Doctor Giordano Bruno. The clerk smiles nervously and nods to each of us in turn, though his red-rimmed eyes linger on me as he locks the papers away in a cupboard and backs out of the room.
Very gifted young man there, Drake says, nodding towards the door after Gilbert has closed it behind him. Came to me via Walsingham, you know. Take a seat, gentlemen.
Behind the table, wooden benches are set into the wall panelling. We squeeze in as Drake pours wine into delicate Venetian glasses from a crystal decanter. The young clerk has left a brass cross-staff on the table, an instrument used to determine latitude; my friend John Dee, the Queens former astrologer, kept one in his library. I pick it up and, as no one seems to object, I hold one end against my cheek and level the other at the opposite wall, imagining I am aligning it with the horizon.
Careful, Bruno, youll have someones eye out, Sidney says, sprawling on the bench, his arm stretched out along the back behind me.
I lower the cross-staff to see Drake observing me with interest. Can you use it?
I have been shown how to calculate the angle between the horizon and the north star, but only on land. I set it back on the table. I dont suppose that counts.
Its more than many. An unusual skill for a theologian. Can you use a cross-staff, Sir Philip? he says, turning to Sidney, mischief in his eye.
Sidney waves a hand. Im afraid not, Drake, but I am willing to learn.
Drake passes him a glass of wine with a polite smile. He cannot fail to notice that Sidney does not give him his proper title; both are knighted and therefore equal in status, though you will not persuade Sidney of that. I watch Drake as he sets my glass down. The tension I sensed among the men on deck has seeped in here, even into the refined and polished space of the captains cabin. I think of the armed men outside the door.
The latch clicks softly and Drake half-rises, quick as blinking, his right hand twitching to the hilt of his sword, but he relaxes when he sees the newcomers, a half-dozen men with wind-tanned faces, dressed in the expensive fabrics of gentlemen. Leading them is a man of around my own age, thinner but so like Drake in all other respects that he can only be a relative. He crosses to the table and embraces him.
Thomas! Come, join us, all of you. Drake points to the bench beside Sidney. There is relief in his laughter and I observe him with curiosity; what has happened to put this great captain so on edge? You know Sir Philip Sidney, of course, and this is his friend, Doctor Bruno, come to greet Dom Antonio, whom we expect any day. Gentlemen, I present my brother and right-hand man, Thomas Drake. And this is Master Christopher Carleill, lieutenant-general of all my forces for this voyage, he says, gesturing to a handsome, athletic man in his early thirties with a head of golden curls and shrewd eyes. I see Sidney forcing a smile: this Carleill is Walsinghams stepson, who though barely older than Sidney is already well established in the military career that Sidney so urgently craves.
After Carleill, we are introduced to Captain Fenner, who takes charge of the day-to-day command of the Elizabeth Bonaventure; though Drake sails on the flagship, he is occupied with the operation of the entire fleet. Behind Fenner are three grizzled, unsmiling men, more of Drakes trusted commanders who accompanied him on his famous journey around the globe and have returned to put their lives and ships at his service again.
Knollys is delighted to be reunited with his old comrades; there is a great deal of back-slapping and exclaiming, though the newly arrived commanders seem oddly muted in their greetings. To me and Sidney they are gruffly courteous, but again I have the sense that our welcome is strained, the atmosphere tainted by some unspoken fear.
Now that the Leicester is here, I presume the fleet will sail as soon as the tide allows? Sidney asks Drake.
Drake and his brother exchange a look. There is a silence. I think, says the Captain-General slowly, turning his glass in his hand, we are obliged to wait a little longer. There are certain matters to settle.
Sidney nods, as if he understands. Still provisioning, I suppose? It is a lengthy business.
Something like that. Drake smiles. A nerve pulses under his eye. He lays his hands flat on the table. The room sways gently and the sun casts watery shadows on the panelled walls, reflections of the sea outside the window.
A knock comes at the door; again, almost imperceptibly, I notice Drake tense, but it is only the serving boys with dishes of food. These sudden, nervy movements are the response of someone who feels hunted I recognise them, because I have lived like that myself so often, my hand never far from the knife at my belt. But what does the commander of the fleet fear aboard his own flagship?
I had been led to believe that all ships food was like chewing the sole of a leather boot, but this meal is as good as any I have had at the French embassy. Drake explains that they are still well stocked with fresh provisions from Plymouth, for now, and that in his experience it is as important to have a competent ships cook as it is to have a good military commander, if not more so, and they all look at Carleill with good-natured laughter. Although, if- Drake begins, and breaks off, and the others lower their eyes, as if they knew what he was about to say.
The tension among the captains grows more apparent as the meal draws on. Silences become strained, and more frequent, though Sidney obligingly fills them with questions about the voyage; the captains seem grateful for the chance to keep the conversation to business. It is only now, as I listen to their discussion, that I begin fully to realise the scale and ambition of this enterprise. I had understood that the official purpose of Drakes voyage was to sail along the coast of Spain, releasing the English ships illegally impounded in Spanish ports. What he actually plans, it seems, is a full-scale onslaught on Spains New World territories. He means to cross the Atlantic and take back the richest ports of the Spanish Main, ending his campaign with the seizure of Havana. Soberly, between mouthfuls and often through them, Drake throws out figures that make my eyes water: a million ducats from the capture of Cartagena, a million more from Panama. If it sounds like licensed piracy, he says, with a self-deprecating laugh, let us never lose sight of the expeditions real purpose: to cut off Spains supply of treasure from the Indies. Without his income from the New World, Philip of Spain would have to rein in his ambitions to make war on England. And if that treasure were diverted into Englands coffers, Elizabeth could send a proper force to defend the Protestants in the Netherlands. I understand now why some of the most prominent dignitaries at court have rushed to invest in this fleet; its success is a matter not only of personal profit but of national security. It is also clear to me that Sidney has effectively found an alternative means of going to war, and that he expects me to follow.
When the last mouthful is eaten, the captains excuse themselves and leave for their own ships. Only Thomas Drake and Knollys remain behind.
Sir Francis pushes his plate away and looks at Sidney. I must be straight with you, Sir Philip. It would be best if you were to leave Plymouth as soon as possible with Dom Antonio when he arrives. He will no doubt wish to linger he and I are old comrades, and he will be interested in discussing this voyage but in the circumstances it is better you hasten to London. For his own safety.
Sidney hesitates; I fear he is weighing up whether this is the time to announce his grand plan of joining the expedition.
What circumstances? I ask, before he can speak.
By way of answer, Drake raises his eyes to the door and then to his brother.
Thomas, call them to clear the board. Then tell those two fellows to stand a little further off.
Thomas Drake opens the door and calls for the serving boys. While the plates are hurried away, he exchanges a few words with the guards, waits to ensure that his orders have been obeyed, then closes it firmly behind him and takes his seat at the table. Drake lowers his voice.
Gentlemen, I have sad news to share. Yesterday, at first light, one of my officers on this ship was found dead.
God preserve us. Who? Knollys asks, sitting up.
How? says Sidney, at the same time.
Robert Dunne. Perhaps you know him, Sir Philip? A worthy gentleman he sailed with me around the world in 77.
I know him only by reputation, Sidney says. His tone does not make this sound like a compliment.
Robert Dunne. Dear God. I am most sorry to hear of it, Knollys says, slumping back against the wall, shock etched on his face. He was a good sailor, even if- He breaks off, as if thinking better of whatever he had been about to say. So this accounts for the subdued atmosphere among the men.
The how is more difficult, Drake says, and his brother reaches a hand out.
Francis-
They may as well know the truth of it, Thomas, since we can go neither forward nor back until the business is resolved. He pours himself another drink and passes the decanter up the table.
Dunne was found hanged in his quarters, Drake continues. You may imagine how this has affected the crew. They talk of omens, a curse on the voyage, Gods punishment. Sailors read the world as a book of prophecies, Doctor Bruno, he adds, turning to me, and on every page they find evidence that the Fates are set against them. So a death such as this on board, before we have even cast off