Warfare. The word seemed to have no place in the scene before them, thought Beth. The seabirds hovering in the sky with their excited expectant cries, occasionally resting upon masts and decks, suggested a tranquil Sunday morning in any harbour the length and breadth of Britain. The warm sunshine and mirror-calm sea with the two fleets at anchor were but painted sails upon a painted ocean, moving gently, their decks empty and silent. Could it be true that they bristled with men unseen, soldiers at the ready to man the cannons waiting behind the shuttered gunloops, to turn this pretty picture not into life, but into the violent death of shot and flame and mortal agony?
Beth stared over in the direction of the Lord Admiral's squadron. She could not distinguish the Ark Royal, but it heartened her to remember that Will Robb was here this day. In some miraculous way, fate had intended that she should find him, that they should meet each other. If only she could see him—
She did not have long to await her answer.
CHAPTER SIX
"Boarding-party alongside, Captain."
"Who wishes to come aboard, Master Pilot?"
"Sir Francis Drake and a party of gentlemen." The shout had it's required effect on the crew of the Sea Queen.
"You heard, Master Perkins. To the cabin, you will be required to wait upon my guests." The Captain grinned. "Look not so scared, lad, Sir Francis Drake does not have horns and cloven hooves. El Draque—el diablo —as our enemies know and fear him, is just a man like other men."
But when the cabin door opened, the room seemed to be filled by the presence of the one man who entered.
"How goes it with you, cousin?" he asked the Captain.
"Tolerably well, sir."
And the older man who embraced James Danyell in greeting and called him cousin was a disappointment to Beth. She expected from the stories she had read that all heroes were tall of stature and handsome of countenance, that their brave deeds were reflected in personal beauty. Now looking from one man to the other, she had to admit, reluctantly of course, that James Danyell was much more akin to the company of heroes than his famous cousin, Sir Francis Drake.
Under middle height, and stockily built, his rather undistinguished features were crowned by unruly dark hair which did not match his beard, inclined as it was to russet. Only the colour and set of his eyes suggested kinship to the Captain. His movements were slow and his voice soft, with a marked Devonshire accent.
Pouring wine into two goblets, Beth was disappointed, for Drake was not in the least how she expected him to appear.
"I have come straight from Ark Royal, James—the Admiral is anchored over yonder beyond Frobisher's squadron. He lent me one of his boats—and an oarsman so that I might bring you our decision without delay. We need your help, James—" Pausing to take the goblet he smiled. "Thank you, lad," and raising an eyebrow in the Captain's direction he said: "A likely-looking youngster you have here, cousin. A little on .the young side, is he not?"
"Ay, sir. He came to us from Folkestone yesterday." The Captain had the grace to sound embarrassed, thought Beth with satisfaction.
"Had your initiation yet, lad?"
Beth frowned. "I know not,-my lord."
Drake's laughter engulfed them. "Why, have you not had the dreaded mal-de-mer yet?" He stared so closely into Beth's face that she trembled, expecting denunication. "Ay, lad, I can see by thy face, fresh and clear, that no sea-sickness has come thy way."
"I sailed often from Hythe, sir," said Beth proudly. "And I have never yet been sick on the sea."
Drake nodded approvingly at the Captain. "I fancy this cabin boy of yours will yet make a better sailor than either of us. I well remember that I spent my first week at sea praying that the ship would not go down, and when the mal-de-mer took me, I began praying earnestly that the ship would sink after all and take me with it. Look not so astonished, even good sailors suffer from such weakness. I never thought to survive my 'prenticeship." Turning to the Captain he continued, "I well remember, James, that you suffered in like manner."
And Beth was delighted to see the Captain's discomfort at his cousin's betrayal, for there was something undignified indeed in the vision of the lofty Captain of the Sea Queen suffering from the same weaknesses as the meanest members of his crew.
"What is your name, lad?"
"Ben Perkins, sir."
"From Hythe, did you say?"
"Ay, sir. I was but visiting my cousin at Folkestone—" She stopped, defying James Danyell with a reproachful glance.
Drake sighed. "So that is the way of it," he said softly. "Imprest, eh? He is to take Jem's place?"
The Captain nodded and Drake put a hand upon his arm. "Poor lad—poor Jem, my commiserations, cousin."
"Ay, I lost a boy—and five men."
Drake sighed. "So I hear. And that they lie in Folkestone." He paused and then asked gently: "How goes it with Madeleine?"
"As well as can be expected, sir. Would that I could have remained to comfort her when she most needed me."
"You shall be with her soon, James. Take heart. Once the fighting is over and this pox of Spanish ambition is removed for ever from our doorstep. But before then, there is much to do—"
But Beth was no longer listening. Madeleine. Madeleine, so that was the girl's name. And Jem who had been killed, Jem the cabin boy—who was he? She would have given much to know the boy's relationship to James Danyell and to Madeleine. She remembered the details of the scene in the graveyard, the tenderness between the woman and the Captain.
Were they lovers? But if it were so, surely Drake would have been more discreet in mentioning her name, unless their relationship was hidden from him. Obviously he knew and accepted Madeleine whatever part she played in his cousin's life. Perhaps Drake was a broad-minded man. After all, the Captain was over thirty and had been a widower for many years. Should he take a mistress, no man of the world would blame him. Perhaps Madeleine was married already.
She was beginning to see clearer reasons than apparent indifference for his lack of enthusiasm for the marriage to Beth Howard—
Her musings were cut short by an impatient voice.
"Do you not observe that Sir Francis's goblet needs replenishing?"
Beth detected a glint of sympathy in his eyes as the Captain continued sharply: "Bring more wine, Master Perkins. Our goblets are empty."
"As I was saying, James, we need your help with our plans. We met this morning with the Lord Admiral and came to certain conclusions. Our only hope against the Spaniards lies in fireships."
"Another Cadiz, sir?"
"Ay, but this time we must do more than singe the King of Spain's beard, this time we must burn out his very heart with our fireships. Alas, there is no time to bring fuel or ships from England, we must make do with what can be spared from those around us."
The Captain bowed. "Then the Sea Queen is at your disposal, sir—and gladly."
Beth looked at him in astonishment. To offer his own beloved ship, here was nobility indeed. She hated James Danyell and his Sea Queen, but she guessed intuitively that it was part of the man, part of his very soul and that its loss would be like an arm, a leg. She was very relieved to see Sir Francis shake his head.
"Nay, cousin. I cannot accept your only ship. Admiral Howard would forbid such a sacrifice, although your offer is kindly and gallantly made—"
"It is made for one who is higher than the Lord Admiral, cousin. I make it for the Queen of England."
Drake smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "You can better serve her with your ship intact—and your experience. That is why I am here. Of all the captains in my squadron, you are the only one present who was with me at Cadiz. You know and understand all the intricacies of fireships. Are you agreeable, cousin?"
"With all my heart."
"Then we must be brisk, for time is of the essence." And Sir Francis unrolled the chart he had put down on the table. "Here then are the details. We are already assembling the fireships at the rear, so that our movements
, please God, will be undetected by the Spanish patrols until it is too late. I have gathered from other ships, experienced men who were with us at Cadiz. They await on deck, at your command."
"Have the men brought in, Master Perkins."
"Have you a reliable blacksmith?"
"Ay, my lord. Summon the blacksmith also, Master Perkins. And be brisk."
Beth found that Drake, near the cabin door, opened it for her to leave and smiled cheerfully. She left reflecting that the secret of Sir Francis Drake's success perhaps lay in the fact that he, of all men, never forgot his own humble origins.
To the group of men waiting on deck, she said: "Gentlemen, if you please, the Captain requests your presence."
They hurried past, brushing her aside, without a look or a word of thanks. She was contrasting such boorish behaviour with that of Drake when she observed that one man remained, presumably the oarsman from the Ark Royal. She was about to direct him to the galley for refreshment while he waited, when he turned from his contemplation of the sea.
Black wavy hair, blue eyes. How very well she knew every detail of that beloved profile which had so long haunted her dreams, sleeping and awake. Her eyes filled with tears. "Will," she whispered softly. "Will Robb—"
"Will," she said again.
He turned to face her and joy was so overwhelming that she could have swooned with relief. Her prayers were answered. God did indeed work miracles, for here was the beloved man who would remove her, as if my magic, from the nightmare of the Sea Queen and Captain James Danyell. In love, all things were possible and here was Will Robb, just as he had promised, to be her knight in shining armour, rescuing her.
Never had mortal woman been more in need of rescue, she thought. And holding out her hands to him, she saw that her troubles were over. Will would find a way.
"Will, are you glad to see me?" How inadequate the words, but her mind refused to behave with sense. Not surprising that there was no recognition on the face before her, some six feet away. Then she realised she stood between him and the light, an unfamiliar figure in boy's rough garb.
"You know me, lad?" he asked frowning.
Solemnly she took off her cap, ran a hand through the short chestnut curls and laughed. "Ay, Master Robb. And you know me also."
For a moment Will stared at her, puzzled by the voice which struck a chord. "Beth—Beth Howard! But it cannot be. I must be dreaming."
"Nay, Will, you are wide awake, I assure you." Swiftly she moved to his side, grasped his hand. She noticed with pleasure that the months at sea had matured him. If she had thought of him as handsome before, he was ten times more so now. And the absence which had made her heart grow fonder had given him an almost godlike beauty. She had forgotten so much about his eyes, the sooty eyelashes, the black wavy hair and his mouth, so shapely and kissable. She let her eyes linger on his lips, hoping that once the shock had faded, he would take her in his arms. She looked around quickly. The deck was deserted, they were sheltered from view. Why then did he hesitate?
She moved a step nearer, her eyes an invitation. "Will."
But Will took a step backwards, and releasing her hand, thrust her away from him. "Beth, what are you doing here? Have you lost your senses? How come you on this ship, dressed—" his eyes roved over her with distate, "dressed like a cabin boy?"
"I am a cabin boy. My name is Master Ben Perkins and I serve Captain Danyell." She bowed and Will groaned as she added, "I knew you were on the Ark Royal."
Expecting him to smile with delight, she saw instead that he froze and turned a shade paler. Licking dry lips, he whispered: "You mean—you mean, that you ran away to sea, because—because of me?"
Beth wished with all her heart that she could cry "yes", that she could shake off the honesty which was the habit of her lifetime. She remembered the unpleasant consequences of lies in the Howard household.
"Not exactly," she said. "I did not run away to sea, in the first place. Merely to visit my cousin Alys, because I could not bear to marry the Captain, when I -when we—"
She paused hoping that he would complete it for her, but all he said was: "When we—what?"
"We two loved each other," she said quickly. "Do you not see how impossible it was for me to marry someone else—oh Will—"
This time he looked not merely pale but angry too. "Then you did follow me," he said accusingly.
"I did not, Will, though I wanted to very much. It was unfortunate, but my cousin was from home and I was taken by the pressers—"
She expected sympathy but there was none. "What did you expect, roaming the streets dressed as a boy? And running away from home! That was a dreadful thing for a maid to do."
He sounded shocked and Beth felt hurt and disappointed that all he wanted was to ask silly questions instead of being as delighted as she was by this unexpected meeting. "Not so dreadful as being forced to marry a man I do not love. Him!" she said, pointing in the direction of the Captain's cabin.
"You mean—the Captain here?"
"I do."
"But Beth, he is an excellent match. Any woman would be proud to wed him. After all he is Sir Francis Drake's cousin."
She noted with disapproval the awe in his voice. "I am not any woman."
"But Beth, my mother tells me he has a splendid house near Greenwich, which used to belong to Sir Francis. And of course, he is close to Royal circles. Surely you know all this?"
"Of course I do, but do you think that makes any difference to me? Do you not understand, Will—I do not want to marry him or his splendid house—"
"Then what are you doing on his ship?"
"I told you. The pressers from the Sea Queen took me—"
She was aware that Will had drawn himself stiffly to attention and was signalling wildly with grimaces that someone was approaching. Beth turned and looked into the angry countenance of the Captain.
"Well, Master Perkins, what do you here, gossiping? I asked you to summon the blacksmith some time ago. Now—at once—" He made a threatening gesture. "Go! As for you, Master Oarsman, wasting my crew's time—"
Beth stayed to hear no more, and with a despairing, apologetic glance in Will's direction, she fled to the galley where she found the blacksmith. Passing on the Captain's message she hurried back. The deck which had contained Will a moment ago was now empty, how; the cabin door opened, and before she could go in search of Will to continue her explanation, the Captain shouted angrily that her presence was needed. "Be brisk, Master Perkins."
Poor Will. Obviously he had departed smarting under the Captain's reprimand. Attending to the guests in the cabin, she took time to eye the Captain angrily. How dare he speak sharply to her beloved Will, hateful man that he was!
But the hateful man was quite unaware of the emotions he had aroused in his cabin boy as, head down over the charts spread out before him, he concentrated all his being upon the task before them. Thankfully, he did not notice how her hand trembled and slopped the wine over the goblet she handed to him.
"Gentlemen," he said, "the ships must be piled .with barrels of pitch, stacks of firewood and as much powder as can be spared. The guns shall be double-shotted so that they explode from the intense heat of the flames all around them. All eight ships will need to be lashed together by stout cables. God grant us a good wind and a strong tide that will carry them on their voyage to smite our enemy! Have you any questions, gentlemen?"
Beth shuddered as she listened to their comments, the technical last details. It sounded a frightening and hazardous business, especially for James Danyell, she thought, as the men left one by one with their good wishes.
Only Sir Francis remained. Embracing the Captain he wished him Godspeed. "Take great care, cousin. Remember that once the fireships begin to move, they will take fire rapidly and you will have but ten minutes to be clear of them. I will try to keep a patrol of small boats in the area as long as I can." He shook his head. "But they will have wind and tide to contend with -they too could be swept forward with t
he fireships."
"I will take care, sir."
At the door, Drake remembered Master Perkins. "Are you a good lad?"
"Yes, sir."
Drake grinned. "Then do not take it to heart or let men upset you over your lack of inches." He straightened his shoulders. "As you can see, I am similarly afflicted. Men refused to take Francis Drake seriously when he was a lad, since they thought his lack of inches applied also to the contents of his head. Weak in inches, weak in brain. So take heart, lad, remember the best packages in this world are not always those with the handsomest wrappings. Be gallant and brave, and be kind to your fellow-men."
"I will, sir."
"That is good. Does he serve you well, cousin?"
James Danyell did not permit his expression to alter. "Indeed, yes, sir," he murmured, "he is a good lad," then turning to the Boatswain he said: "I go to the Ark Royal with Sir Francis to discuss the necessary arrangements. See you to matters here."
Beth followed them to the rail and watched while they went down into the boat where Will awaited them. Although she tried desperately to attract his attention, Will never glanced upwards in her direction but steadfastly remained with his head down over the oars, as though he deliberately averted his eyes from the cabin boy in rough shirt and breeches who lingered by the rail above.
Beth could have wept with disappointment. If only he had made some sign it would have been such a comfort to her.
"Get about thy business, Master Perkins," said the boatswain pushing her roughly aside. " 'Cos Captain's away does not mean that the cabin boy can play." He pointed to the deck. "There is still unfinished work for you here, never mind your day dreams about the lives of your betters," he added nodding towards the fast disappearing boat, bobbing across the waves in the direction of the flagship. "These decks are to be scrubbed clean. We will need clean decks afore we go into battle."
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