Bart looked annoyed, and Margery knew he was offended that he, an earl, should be asked to hurry up by a mere knight. ‘No, I’m afraid I can’t,’ he said mulishly.
‘Very well,’ said Ned. ‘Friday it is.’
*
IN THE DAYSfollowing the funeral, Ned thought ahead to the time when he would meet his maker, and asked himself whether he would be proud of the life he had led. He had dedicated himself to a vision – one he shared with Queen Elizabeth – of an England where no one was killed for his religion. Could he say he had done everything possible to defend that ideal?
Perhaps the greatest danger was King Felipe of Spain. Felipe was constantly at war, often over religious differences. He fought the Ottoman Muslims in the Mediterranean Sea and the Dutch Protestants in the Netherlands. Sooner or later, Ned felt sure, he would turn his attention to England and the Anglican Church.
Spain was the richest and most powerful country in the world, and no one knew how to defend England.
Ned shared his worry with his brother. ‘The only thing Queen Elizabeth will spend money on willingly is the navy,’ he said. ‘But we’ll never have a fleet to match King Felipe’s galleons.’
They were sitting in the dining room, finishing breakfast. Barney was about to leave for Combe Harbour, where his ship was taking on stores for the next voyage. He had renamed the vesselAliceafter their mother.
‘England doesn’t need galleons,’ said Barney.
Ned was startled by that. He was in the act of giving a sliver of smoked fish to Maddie, the tortoiseshell cat – daughter or perhaps granddaughter of his childhood pet – but he froze, looked up at Barney and said: ‘Whatdowe need, in your opinion?’
‘The Spanish idea is to have big ships to transport hundreds of soldiers. Their tactic is to ram, so that the soldiers can board the enemy ship and overwhelm the crew.’
‘That makes sense.’
‘And it often works. But galleons have a high after-castle with cabins for all the officers and noblemen on board. That structure acts like a sail that can’t be adjusted, and pushes the ship in the direction of the wind, regardless of where the captain wants to go. In other words, it makes the ship harder to steer.’
The waiting cat made a plaintive noise, and Ned gave her the fish, then said: ‘If we don’t need galleons, what do we need to protect ourselves?’
‘The queen should build ships that are narrow and low, and therefore more manoeuvrable. An agile ship can dance around a galleon, firing at it without letting the galleon get close enough for all those soldiers to board.’
‘I have to tell her this.’
‘The other main factor in sea battles is speed of reloading.’
‘Really?’
‘It’s more important than having heavy guns. My sailors are trained to clean out the barrel and recharge the cannon rapidly and safely. With practice they can do it in under five minutes. Once you’re close enough to hit the enemy ship with every shot, it’s all about the number of times you can fire. A relentless barrage of cannonballs will demoralize and devastate the enemy very quickly.’
Ned was fascinated. Elizabeth had no standing army, so the navy was England’s only permanent military force. The country was not wealthy, by European standards, but such prosperity as it had came from overseas trade. The navy was a formidable presence on the high seas, making others hesitate before attacking English merchant ships. In particular, the navy gave England dominance in the Channel, the waterway that separated the country from Europe. Elizabeth was parsimonious, but she had an eye for what was really important, and she paid careful attention to her ships.
Barney got up. ‘I don’t know when I’ll see you again,’ he said.
I don’t know if I’lleversee you again, Ned thought. He picked up Barney’s heavy travelling coat and helped him on with it. ‘Be safe, Barney,’ he said.
They parted company with little ceremony, in the manner of brothers.
Ned went into the front parlour and sat at the writing table his mother had used for so many years. While the conversation was fresh in his mind he made a note of everything Barney had said about the design of fighting ships.
When he had finished, he looked out of the window at the west front of the cathedral. I’m thirty years old, he thought. When my father was this age he already had Barney and me. In another thirty years I may be lying in the cemetery next to my parents. But who will stand at my grave?
He saw Dan Cobley approaching the house, and put morbid thoughts out of his mind.
Dan walked in. ‘Barney’s just left,’ Ned said, assuming that Dan was here to talk about his investment in Barney’s voyage. ‘He’s taking the barge to Combe Harbour. But you might catch him at the dock, if you hurry.’
‘My business with Barney is settled, to our mutual satisfaction,’ Dan said. ‘I’ve come to see you.’
‘In that case, please sit down.’
At thirty-two Dan was plumper than ever, and still had a know-all air that struck Ned as adolescent. But Dan was a good businessman, and had expanded the enterprise he had inherited. He was now probably the richest man in Kingsbridge. He was looking for a bigger house, and had offered a good price for Priory Gate, though Rollo did not want to sell. Dan was also the undisputed leader of the town’s Puritans, who liked to worship at St John’s church in the suburb of Loversfield.
