confide in a foreigner who has never sailed further than Calais to Tilbury? Let Drake take care of it according to his own judgement, as he said.’
Sidney nudges me to be silent; the Captain-General’s head appears at the top of the stair ladder.
‘Gentlemen! Thank you for waiting. It is more pleasant out here, is it not?’
He sweeps an arm round to encompass the view. The evening is still light, with charcoal streaks of cloud smudged across the deepening blue of the sky. White gulls circle around the topmast, loudly complaining; to either side the green slopes rise from the water and smoke curls from the chimneys of scattered cottages. Before us, out to sea, the other ships of the fleet rock gently at anchor, sails furled; behind us, the small town of Plymouth huddles into the bay. A thin breeze lifts my hair from my face and flutters the lace at Sidney’s collar.
Drake joins us by the rail. He turns and considers me again, as if weighing me up, then returns his gaze to the horizon. ‘What is it you wish to discuss, Sir Philip?’ Something in his tone suggests to me he already knows full well.
Sidney knots his fingers together, giving them his close attention. When he eventually speaks, he lifts his head and looks across the harbour, not at Drake.
‘Sir Francis, you recall in London, when you came to me to discuss the ordnance? We spoke of another matter then too, concerning my involvement with this voyage.’
He is careful with Drake’s title now that he wants his favour. Drake frowns, then turns to Sidney with an expression of confusion or amusement, or perhaps both.
‘But, Sir Philip, I thought that was just talk. I recall you proposed that you should come with us, but we both agreed Her Majesty would never give her consent.’
‘And I said to you, that being the case, we would have to take care she did not find out until we were well under way.’ Sidney keeps his voice low and steady, but I recognise the tone: determination edged with petulance. It is a matter of honour for him now not to back down.
Drake rubs the back of his neck. ‘I assumed that was a joke. I laughed when you said it, as I remember.’
‘I thought you were laughing in agreement.’
There is a long silence, during which we all watch the gulls. One lands on the rail a little way along from us and regards us with hauteur.
‘Well, look,’ Drake says eventually, placatory, ‘we misunderstood one another, but no harm done. In any case, you are needed to escort Dom Antonio to London and my fleet is sailing nowhere while this matter remains uncertain.’ He passes a hand through his hair and raises his eyes to the clouds, as if some explanation might be found there.
‘Sir Francis.’ Sidney is firm now, all business. ‘You will not deny my part in raising capital for this expedition. Therefore I have earned my passage with you, I think, and my friend’s.’
Drake’s gaze flits to me in alarm. You as well? his raised eyebrow asks.
‘But if that is not sufficient for you, let us prove ourselves further. I was not in jest when I said that Bruno has a nose for unearthing murderers keener than a pig after truffles.’
‘A gracious comparison,’ I murmur. Drake smiles.
‘The Queen herself would vouch for him, if she were here.’ Sidney is relentless. ‘If we can find this killer for you, no one will be out of pocket, the fleet can sail, and we will have earned our place in it.’
‘And the Queen? She expects you back at court with Dom Antonio, does she not? She will not look kindly on you or me when he arrives alone and informs her that you are halfway to the New World.’
Sidney shrugs. ‘But she will have forgotten her anger by the time we return, when she learns we have captured the Spanish ports.’
Drake closes his eyes briefly, as if willing himself to be patient.
‘Nothing is guaranteed on a voyage like this. Her Majesty likes the idea of Spanish gold, to be sure. But she is cautious of any act of aggression
Sidney nudges me to be silent; the Captain-General’s head appears at the top of the stair ladder.
‘Gentlemen! Thank you for waiting. It is more pleasant out here, is it not?’
He sweeps an arm round to encompass the view. The evening is still light, with charcoal streaks of cloud smudged across the deepening blue of the sky. White gulls circle around the topmast, loudly complaining; to either side the green slopes rise from the water and smoke curls from the chimneys of scattered cottages. Before us, out to sea, the other ships of the fleet rock gently at anchor, sails furled; behind us, the small town of Plymouth huddles into the bay. A thin breeze lifts my hair from my face and flutters the lace at Sidney’s collar.
Drake joins us by the rail. He turns and considers me again, as if weighing me up, then returns his gaze to the horizon. ‘What is it you wish to discuss, Sir Philip?’ Something in his tone suggests to me he already knows full well.
Sidney knots his fingers together, giving them his close attention. When he eventually speaks, he lifts his head and looks across the harbour, not at Drake.
‘Sir Francis, you recall in London, when you came to me to discuss the ordnance? We spoke of another matter then too, concerning my involvement with this voyage.’
He is careful with Drake’s title now that he wants his favour. Drake frowns, then turns to Sidney with an expression of confusion or amusement, or perhaps both.
‘But, Sir Philip, I thought that was just talk. I recall you proposed that you should come with us, but we both agreed Her Majesty would never give her consent.’
‘And I said to you, that being the case, we would have to take care she did not find out until we were well under way.’ Sidney keeps his voice low and steady, but I recognise the tone: determination edged with petulance. It is a matter of honour for him now not to back down.
Drake rubs the back of his neck. ‘I assumed that was a joke. I laughed when you said it, as I remember.’
‘I thought you were laughing in agreement.’
There is a long silence, during which we all watch the gulls. One lands on the rail a little way along from us and regards us with hauteur.
‘Well, look,’ Drake says eventually, placatory, ‘we misunderstood one another, but no harm done. In any case, you are needed to escort Dom Antonio to London and my fleet is sailing nowhere while this matter remains uncertain.’ He passes a hand through his hair and raises his eyes to the clouds, as if some explanation might be found there.
‘Sir Francis.’ Sidney is firm now, all business. ‘You will not deny my part in raising capital for this expedition. Therefore I have earned my passage with you, I think, and my friend’s.’
Drake’s gaze flits to me in alarm. You as well? his raised eyebrow asks.
‘But if that is not sufficient for you, let us prove ourselves further. I was not in jest when I said that Bruno has a nose for unearthing murderers keener than a pig after truffles.’
‘A gracious comparison,’ I murmur. Drake smiles.
‘The Queen herself would vouch for him, if she were here.’ Sidney is relentless. ‘If we can find this killer for you, no one will be out of pocket, the fleet can sail, and we will have earned our place in it.’
‘And the Queen? She expects you back at court with Dom Antonio, does she not? She will not look kindly on you or me when he arrives alone and informs her that you are halfway to the New World.’
Sidney shrugs. ‘But she will have forgotten her anger by the time we return, when she learns we have captured the Spanish ports.’
Drake closes his eyes briefly, as if willing himself to be patient.
‘Nothing is guaranteed on a voyage like this. Her Majesty likes the idea of Spanish gold, to be sure. But she is cautious of any act of aggression
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