Ship of Fire by Michael Cadnum Read Free Book Online

youthful.
    He turned back to the Lord of the Admiralty. “I myself sailed as a young ship’s surgeon, my lord, on the Gillyflower , out of Plymouth. This no doubt was why good Titus sought me out.”
    Lord Howard made no sound, his long golden plume making a graceful arc in the glow from the fireplace.
    My master continued, “My lord, Sir Francis Drake can sail, his health and that of his crew well attended by two medical men.”
    I straightened, proud of the sound of this.
    Lord Howard drained his green-glass cup. He said nothing further.
    â€œMy lord,” continued my master, “our gracious Queen has no more loyal subjects than the two of us.”
    â€œThe men I appoint,” said Lord Howard at last, his manner softening, “will be required to take an oath.”
    â€œWe are yours to command,” said my master.
    Lord Howard’s eyes, bright with firelight, looked hard into mine.
    An oath, a contract sworn before God, was an agreement no man would knowingly violate. I hesitated, uncertain in my soul what I was about to undertake.
    â€œMy lord,” I said, my voice as steady as my master’s, “I am your servant.”
    â€œIf you accept this charge,” said the Lord Admiral, leaning forward and lowering his voice, “you will be surgeon and surgeon’s mate on the Elizabeth Bonaventure , Drake’s flagship.”
    My heart leaped.
    â€œAnd you will be something even more important, in my view.” The Lord Admiral spoke in a steel whisper. “Some say Drake is the sunlit seaman, that he can do no wrong. Others say he is sinfully ambitious, that he will sail halfway across an ocean, risking men and ships, for a button of gold to further round out his already ample money bag. It is whispered that of the treasure he brings back to the Exchequer, as much as one-fifth or even one-third disappears into his own strong box.”
    He looked from one of us to the other.
    â€œIf you swear this oath,” he continued, “you serve as doctors to a war-fleet. And you will, in addition, be my eyes and ears—secretly reporting, after all is done, to me.”
    I silently prayed that God, through his Son Jesus Christ, might fulfill my life-long dream of adventure.
    â€œYou will be intelligencers,” the Lord Admiral was saying. He leaned forward, into the candlelight, to make his meaning clear. “You will be Admiralty spies.”

Chapter 10
    The single sail on our boat was swollen with the wind, and her prow cut the dawn-gilded river.
    Our pinnace, a ten-ton scout-boat, was fast. She carried us down the River Thames, out of London, and past Greenwich, where the officers of the Admiralty met to plan for naval glory, and the dry dock where the storied ship the Golden Hind was kept in state.
    The three slender masts of this famous vessel, in which Sir Francis had sailed around the globe a few years before, were barely visible in the early light as our pinnace made short work of passing the early river traffic. The high waters of the evening before had receded with the low tide, and the night’s rain showers had fled before a strong wind out of the west.
    I had never seen my master look so happy, his satchel of medical supplies stowed safely in a stout chest. “I was up this early every morning on the Gillyflower ,” he was saying, the breeze in his hair. My master was habitually a late-riser these days, waking early only if an emergency called him forth. “I stood on the deck and watched the dawn. I saw a mermaid one day in the sea swells, a bowshot from the ship—did I ever tell you?”
    Three dozen times, I could have responded. But moved by affection for my master, I offered truthfully, “I never tire of hearing of your voyage.”
    â€œShe was like a beautiful woman,” he said dreamily. “But her skin was—”
    An oysterman, squat in his floppy hat, called out a deep-voiced halloo from his homely