Chapter 28
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Translator: volt
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Shipboard Conversations
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Conversations at Sea
“...Understood?”
It began with Sir Raleigh's remark.
-“This is the fruit most precious to the savages, obtained by my trusted explorer John White through the benevolence of a most noble ‘local collaborator.’ I suspect it belongs to some great king or emperor of the land.”
There was a great king or emperor in the Americas.
-“Our colonists, alongside this powerful local ally, repelled the Spanish fleet. They’ve even captured a galleon and are using it to defend the place.”
A monarch powerful enough to defeat the Spanish, no less.
Whenever Sir Raleigh introduced the treasures he had brought, he casually mentioned this ‘local collaborator.’
He was likely just repeating what his explorers had told him.
In other words...
Every gift he offered to the Queen came from that mighty ‘local collaborator.’
Raleigh’s ally commanded jewelers who cut gems more finely than Europe’s craftsmen, wielded military might capable of vanquishing Spain, and ruled farms producing delectable fruits.
Suddenly, everything made sense.
-“Raleigh’s colony stems from his ties with this local collaborator! If we sway him and cut Raleigh’s explorers off...”
The Earl of Essex proposed this to Sir Walsingham—his father-in-law and a man who despised Raleigh as much as he did.
-“And if the colony venture falls apart?”
The Queen’s spymaster, Walsingham, shot it down without hesitation.
-“Don’t talk nonsense. That colony is a prime staging ground for striking Spanish holdings. And it’s brimming with vast resources.”
-“But... if things continue like this, Walter Raleigh will...?”
-“Raleigh, Raleigh. Are you afraid he’ll monopolize Her Majesty’s favor? You’re younger than he is. Put that charm of yours to use.”
-“...”
-“If that’s all, I’ll be going.”
Evidence 1: Walsingham would no longer check Raleigh.
Evidence 2: Walsingham intended to groom me as Raleigh’s rival.
Conclusion 1: Walsingham had abandoned me.
Conclusion 2: I was politically finished.
A cornered man will do anything.
And so, the Earl of Essex began hatching a ‘plan.’
A plan to bring down Sir Raleigh’s colony.
Today, we all gathered once more in the church-cum-village hall-cum-meeting house.
As I knelt on both knees and clasped my hands, everyone swallowed hard. Hewett’s hands, standing before me, trembled visibly.
“Ah, uh... haa, they’re shaking.”
“It’s just practice, isn’t it? Please proceed without pressure.”
“Very well, then. Let’s begin.
Great Chief Nemo of the Croatoans, Pamlicos, Chesapeake, and so forth... now pledges loyalty under God’s blessing to Elizabeth, the rightful Queen of England, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith...”
“Pfft.”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“Ah! No, I-I’m sorry... It’s just so absurd...”
“It’s fine, Lady Dare. It is absurd.”
“What in the world is going on here...?”
“Well, since you’re a Great Chief now anyway, think of it as a secular title of sorts?”
“That’s a position where you put someone else above you. But this... an angel? Swearing fealty to Queen Elizabeth like this? It’s too bizarre.”
“Ahem. Isn’t this the best Sir Raleigh could come up with? For now, it’ll help protect Nemo’s safety.”
Once the mood lightened, chatter erupted—hollow laughs, sighs, and all sorts of complaints flying about.
From their perspective, it must seem utterly ridiculous.
Daring to treat an angel as a ‘savage Great Chief’ and shoving him under Elizabeth Tudor, who ruled England ‘under God’s blessing.’
“Mr. Hewett is right. Everyone, calm down.”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“As long as I walk this earth in flesh and blood, I must serve some sovereign.
Even Jesus said to render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s. Which lord this borrowed body serves won’t offend the Lord.”
“I-I see.”
“If Nemo says so...”
But as Hewett pointed out, this was actually more helpful for me.
Unless I truly was an angel unbound by earthly status—which I wasn’t—I was just an unusual person rooted to this land. I needed a ‘station’ in life.
Especially... to survive the coming storm of colonialism and imperialism.
I needed ties to England.
For the safety of me and my people, I could endure a ‘coronation’ as an English subject. Honestly, I felt no humiliation.
The ones feeling insulted were precisely those who served and followed me. I could persuade them.
As long as I never visited England in person... how would anyone know if I was immortal?
From now on, those who saw my face or met me would be limited to dozens or hundreds at a time, just like now.
Status worries wouldn’t matter until centuries later, when whites flooded this land en masse and cameras and inventions arrived.
History records many native peoples who vanished. What happened to Manteo after Roanoke failed? No one knows.
I could do the same.
Hide myself, change identities and names to survive. I could even become my own son to inherit this position.
So... until then, secure my personal safety and seize influence and power in this American land.
I must survive.
If I don’t...
If I become the enemy of the Europeans, hunted or imprisoned in a fate worse than death... it won’t just be about me anymore.
“Right! Let’s run through the script again!”
“Mr. Hewett, please.”
“Yes. Ahem... Great Chief Nemo of the Croatoans, Pamlicos, Chesapeake, and so forth... now...”
All of them—the ones who believed me an angel and followed me absolutely—would be in peril.
Unlike me, they would die.
So, a coronation like this was nothing.
I must survive.
That was my goal and duty.
Whoosh!
The waves crashed against the salt-encrusted timbers, rousing Sir Raleigh from a light doze. He’d pulled an all-nighter sorting ledgers and handling miscellaneous tasks.
Across the cabin, Thomas Harriot was engrossed in solving some mathematical puzzle.
“Doesn’t that make you seasick on board?”
“Not at all. It sharpens my focus, dulling even the nausea.”
“I can’t fathom it. Why find joy in that?”
“Don’t you write poetry, Sir Raleigh? It’s similar.”
“Good sir, they’re entirely different. Like the difference between devil and angel...”
Angel.
“...Why the sudden pause? Something catch you?”
“No, just remembered suggesting the coronation for Nemo.”
“You always honor the ‘emperor’ with titles.”
“Of course. He is... sent by the Lord.”
“Hmmm.”
“Never mind. What’s the point discussing this with an atheist?”
Silence fell again, and Walter Raleigh dozed off, revisiting that day’s vision.
-“I have not come to punish you. The Lord has prepared no curse for you, but glory and bliss.”
-“The Lord will raise you greatly.”
-“So... serve Him, the One alone, with faith.”
It wouldn’t fade.
That shock, that overwhelming presence, that mystery and holiness.
“...Who could’ve guessed the Pope’s name would be Clement?”
“Pardon? What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“...”
“...”
Angels exist.
Of course, if angels exist, the Lord surely sits enthroned in the highest heavens.
And if the Lord exists, so too must the death and resurrection, heaven and hell He prepared.
His thoughts reached his friend before him.
His atheist friend.
“...Aren’t you afraid?”
“Of what?”
“Living as an atheist. If there’s nothing after death, fine. But eternal flames consuming body and soul...”
“If nothing after death, no worry. If eternal hellfire, resisting its tyrant creator is a free man’s duty, no?”
“Enough. That alone merits execution for heresy.”
“Haha, why ask then?”
“Because I...”
“Yes, Sir Raleigh?”
“...”
Saw an angel.
I saw the Holy Spirit descend upon his voice, transcending human tongues, and divine foreknowledge beyond time upon his knowledge.
“...If angels existed, what would you do?”
“That sort again?”
“No, this is different. Suppose angels exist, and you met one.”
“Sigh, fine. If you want pointless Q&A, I’ll play along.”
Thomas Harriot closed his notebook and turned from the desk to face Sir Raleigh.
“Alright. Angels exist, and I met one. So?”
“What then? Change your faith? Alter your ways? Wouldn’t you have questions?”
“Sure. If Adam and Eve were the first humans, with sons Cain, Abel, Seth—only three—how did humanity continue? How did Cain and Seth have descendants?”
“...God made more humans. Or Adam and Eve had daughters.”
“So humanity isn’t solely their descendants, or it’s incest. If the former, why original sin?”
“...Assume the latter. Incest wasn’t sin back then.”
“So sin changes with time? God’s commandments too?”
“...No other questions besides such trifles? You couldn’t stay atheist.”
Raleigh noted Harriot’s words for later, to ask Nemo.
“Sure, seeing an angel would shock me. Immensely.”
“Yes, wouldn’t it convert you back to the Lord’s word?”
“Doubt it.”
“...What? Why? Angels mean hell exists. Not afraid?”
“Pfft? Hahahaha!”
Harriot burst into belly laughs, wiping tears.
“Even meeting a so-called ‘angel,’ I’d stay atheist.”
“...”
Nonsense. He hadn’t even met one, yet so cocky.
How could any man not kneel before that overwhelming being? Not repent sins?
Raleigh shook his head with a wry smile. That was the most he could show a longtime friend.
“Fine... You’re stubborn; you’d cling to atheism. Suppose so. But others?”
“Huh, others?”
“Yes. Others would be overwhelmed by the angel’s presence. Repenting, weeping.”
“Hm... Even someone like the Pope?”
“Yes, even that arrogant Antichrist.”
True to a devout Protestant. Harriot wryly countered.
“I disagree.”
“...What? Another odd notion?”
“I know exactly how people would react to an angel.”
Harriot sneered, uncorked his flask, and took a swig. Tongue loosened, he smirked.
“They’d call that angel a devil.
And they’d try to kill it. No matter what.”
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
In the cramped corner of the cabin, they honed their blades on whetstones. The ship rocked ceaselessly with the waves, but their hands never faltered, sharpening edges keen.
They exchanged meaningful glances, conversing in silence, senses ever alert to their surroundings.
It came with their profession.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
“Hey! We’ll hit land soon—when will packing finish?”
The nobleman Francis Bacon, sailing with them, saw them as mere new servants...
But they were assassins.
Hired killers employed by the Earl of Essex, Robert Devereux.
They were bound for the New World to slay its emperor.