CHAPTER NINETEEN
It wasn’t until July 30, 1588 that the Armada was first sighted off the Lizard, that twisted piece of land at the south end of the English Channel. Much had happened during the interval, a series of mishaps for the Spanish. On June 19, the fleet scattered by stormy weather, put into Coruña. On June 27, a council in session in Coruña advises the King to abandon the attack, but on July 19th the council decided to try again. Two days later the Armada once more sailed for England.
A day before the sighting from the Lizard, the Spanish had detected land, and a council of war was called aboard the San Martin de Portugal, the Spanish flagship. The King’s Captain-General of the Ocean Sea with 125 ships and 30,000 men under his command greeted the brilliantly attired officers as they came aboard.
He was Don Alonso Perez de Guzman el Bueno, twelfth señor and fifth marquis of San Lucar de Barrameda, ninth count of Niebla and seventh duke of Medina Sedonia. Oddly enough he had no experience at sea. History marked this a grave error.
It was not long after sighting land that the Spaniards had captured a Falmouth fishing boat and learned from the terrified fishermen that the English fleet had put to sea under the command of Lord Admiral Howard and Sir Francis Drake.
With beacon fires alerting the English, a strong segment of the fleet put out from Plymouth and managed to slip past the Spanish in the night, thus gaining the weather gauge, a marked advantage they never lost during the entire conflict.
Aboard La Anunciada there was growing excitement as the Armada fell into battle formation. García, halberd in hand, was often on the quarterdeck while the three cadets stood watch for watch, each with a boarding pike. Grappling hooks were at the ready and sharpshooters could be sent aloft at a moment’s notice. Because of the long cruise to the Azores and back, La Anunciada functioned like a well-oiled machine. Nor was religion neglected. Full services were held at least once a week, and at dawn and dusk the ship’s boys sang “Salve” and “Ave María” at the base of the mainmast.
With the battle cry “Arise O Lord and vindicate Thy Cause!” as well as other religious trappings, the Armada was definitely a crusade.
Although beacon fires had been lit along the English coast to alert both those on land and at sea of the danger, the military was ill prepared to fight a land battle against such a massive force as the Spanish commanded. Truth to tell, the fleet that set out from Plymouth Sound was the only wall between England and defeat.
That night in bed, García felt he should begin to confide in Don Diego. He was on his back and could feel her warm body nestled into his. “I think, if you don’t mind, we could loosen some of the formality and I might call you simply María under these circumstances.”
María pondered a moment. “You mean because we have just completed the primary sex act, we could refer to one another informally?”
“Yes, that’s it exactly.”
“I might even carry it a step forward, Pedro, and suggest that from time to time we might even resort to terms of endearment.”
“I understand. They say the French are very romantic and they often use the word ‘cher.’”
“Yes, Pedro. But why resort to the French? We do well at romance in our own fashion. In fact, from time to time I can imagine us continuing this into the future.”
“I suppose there are many terms. For instance, I could refer to you as my heavenly flan.”
“I think the specific is not the best. The general might weather the long term to advantage. A word such as ‘sweet.’”
“You would like me to call you sweet?” Pedro inquired.
“Not really. We seem to be hung up on desserts. We need a term that would apply to both of us so we could go to and fro. Frankly I would consider the piece de resistance superior to a mere dessert. I was not meant to end a meal.”
“Nor I. How does the term ‘lamb chop’ come down with you.”
María made an uncharacteristic giggle. “What if we should slip and be overheard on the quarterdeck of this floating castle to call one another lamb chop?”
“It would not redound to our credit in your present disguise.”
“But I am undisguised at the moment, in fact totally undressed. And, as mentioned earlier, this thing we are doing now might be projected into the future.”
“That thought has crossed my mind, but somehow, at this moment, I seem unworthy of your complete affections.”
“Should I consider that in the way of being a proposal, Pedro? Maladroit, though it might be.”
“In different circumstances that could be the case. But at the moment, I feel unqualified to seek long-term arrangements. Believe me, the fault lies with me, it is none of your own.”
“These words you string together form a certain thought that needs a bit of explaining. You seem to possess a certain amount of self-confidence in the command of your men and your relations with the ship’s officers. What is this faint heart?”
As they lay in bed they could hear the constant creaking of the great wooden vessel and occasionally the voices of crewmen drifted through their open cabin window. La Anunciada was into the channel chop, but there was no sea sickness aboard as the troopers and crews had months of experience at sea.
García placed his hand on María’s arm. “This time, these events, have brought us to the point where I must begin to reveal certain things to you. But I cannot do it in full at present. You must trust me, have confidence, and believe that all will be revealed at the proper time.”
“Secrets,” María said. “I knew there were secrets. Tell me this. Why can’t I know them all?”
“Again, trust me. You would not believe me.”
“But I would.”
“No. Even though we are close, closer than I have ever been to someone, the truth would be difficult to chew, hard to swallow. Strictly indigestible. But there is a beginning.”
“OK. I’ll be good. Tell me what you will.”
“This Armada is bound for disaster. We shall never set foot on English soil as conquerors. Our attention must be directed at saving ourselves and our command.”
María sat up in bed and pulled the covers around her naked body. “You’re right, I cannot believe you. This is the greatest force ever assembled by man. The English army is rabble, in disarray. I shall pour us wine and we shall talk.” She rose and sought out the oil lamp. García climbed out of bed and pulled on a nightshirt.
When they were at the table, the flagon between them, their glasses filled, García said, “We must keep our voices down. Francisco is not ready to hear this news.”
María glanced at the door barring the room where the two cadets slept. “Francisco,” she whispered. “What about Jose?”
García raised his hands as if to say, OK. “Jose is like me. She knows.” He left it there.
“I see. That’s not surprising. The two of you, there is a mystery.”
“A great mystery. Now I want you aware of what will unfold in the next few days. You said England’s army is rabble, ours is far superior. The troops waiting in Flanders for transport to the English shore would rout that ragtag force in short time. Yes, all true. But what if we fail to land one man on the English shore? What if our ships are harried by the English fleet into the North Sea and beyond Scotland? That will happen.”
“That’s crazy, Pedro. You could be executed for such talk. I’ve a mind to betray you myself.”
“But you won’t?”
“No I won’t. We are in love. You may not want to speak of it, but that is a fact.”
“Love and war, a deadly combination. You heard me warn the captain of fire ships. So that will be a sign to you that I speak the truth. There will be fire ships, and they will be effective. We will be unable to close with the enemy and board, our only hope of victory.”
“And when can we expect these fire ships?”
García searched his mind, attempted to calculate the differences in the English and Spanish calendars, then spoke: “Very soon. Probably in one week.??
?
“If you know this, witchcraft is afoot. But let’s speak no more about it. I will await the fire ships, then we can talk again.” She smiled. He was opening up.
García poured more wine. “The night is young. I believe we both have a lot of energy. And I do have a plan for our safety.” They touched glasses.
“My protector,” María whispered. She would play the submissive female.