Page 279 of A Column of Fire

Sylvie, who knew a great deal about the needs of shopkeepers, had given Alfo much advice on the indoor market. In the manner of young men, Alfo was not saying a lot about the help he had received; and, in the manner of kindly aunts, she did not remind him.

In fairness, Alfo had good commercial instincts. Sylvie assumed he had inherited them from his enterprising mother, who had apparently made the best rum in New Spain.

‘The place is packed,’ Barney said.

‘I want to expand into the monks’ old refectory,’ Alfo said. Hastily he added: ‘That is, if you approve, Captain.’

‘It sounds like a good idea,’ Barney said. ‘We’ll have a look at the numbers together later. There’s plenty of time.’

They returned across the square and at last entered the house. The family gathered around the dining table for the midday meal, and inevitably the talk turned to the coming Spanish invasion.

‘After all we’ve done,’ Ned said with a gloom that tugged painfully at the strings of Sylvie’s heart. ‘We just wanted to have a country where a man could make his own peace with God, instead of mouthing prayers like a parrot. But they won’t let us.’

Alfo said to Barney: ‘Do they have slavery in Spain, Captain?’

Now where did that come from? Sylvie wondered. She recalled the moment when Alfo had become aware of slavery. He had been around thirteen or fourteen. His mother had told him that his grandmother had been a slave, and that many slaves were dark-skinned, as he was. He had been reassured to learn that slavery was not legally enforceable in England. He had not mentioned the subject since then, but Sylvie now realized that it had never left his mind. To him, England meant freedom; and the prospect of a Spanish invasion had renewed his fears.

‘Yes,’ Barney said. ‘Spain has slavery. In Seville, where I used to live, every wealthy family had slaves.’

‘And are the slaves dark-skinned?’

Barney sighed. ‘Yes. A few are European prisoners-of-war, usually oarsmen in the galleys, but most are African or Turkish.’

‘If the Spanish invade us, will they change our laws?’

‘Most certainly. They will make us all Catholic. That’s the point.’

‘And will they permit slavery?’

‘They might.’

Alfo nodded grimly, and Sylvie wondered if he would have the possibility of slavery hanging over him all his life. She said: ‘Can’t we do something to prevent the invasion?’

‘Yes,’ said Barney. ‘We shouldn’t just wait for them to arrive – we should hit them first.’

Ned said: ‘We’ve already put this proposal to the queen: a pre-emptive strike.’

‘Stop them before they start.’

Ned was more moderate. ‘Attack them before they set sail, aiming to do at least enough damage to make King Felipe think again.’

Barney said eagerly: ‘Has Queen Elizabeth agreed to this?’

‘She has decided to send six vessels: four warships and two pinnaces.’ Pinnaces were smaller, faster craft, often used for reconnaissance and messages, not much use in a fight.

‘Four warships – against the richest and most powerful country in the world?’ Barney protested. ‘It’s not enough!’

‘We can’t risk our entire navy! That would leave England defenceless. But we’re inviting armed merchant ships to join the fleet. There will be plunder, if the mission is successful.’

‘I’ll go,’ Barney said immediately.

‘Oh,’ said Helga, who had hardly spoken until now. She looked dismayed. ‘So soon?’

Sylvie felt sorry for her. But she had married a sailor. They led dangerous lives.

‘I’ll take both ships,’ Barney went on. He now had two, theAliceand theBella. ‘Who’s in charge?’

‘Sir Francis Drake,’ Ned told him.