Treachery by S. J. Parris Read Free Book Online

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 don’t suppose that counts.’
    ‘It’s 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. ‘I’m 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 captain’s 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 Walsingham’s 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 Drake’s 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 ship’s food was like chewing the sole of a leather boot, but this meal