Ken Follett - A Column of Fire

Ned said: ‘It fizzled out.’

‘Five hundred men have been hanged!’ Bart said indignantly. ‘By the queen who complains of Mary Tudor’s cruelty!’

Ned said mildly: ‘Men who try to overthrow the monarch are generally executed, in every country in the world, I believe.’

Bart was a poor listener, like his father, and he responded as if he had not heard Ned. ‘The north is poor enough already, but it has been looted mercilessly, lands confiscated and all the livestock seized and driven south!’

Margery wondered whether this reminded Ned of how his own family had been mercilessly plundered by her father; but if he thought of that he hid his pain. He was not flustered by Bart’s tactless tirade, and Margery supposed that, spending his life among the queen’s advisors, Ned had learned how to remain calm during angry arguments. ‘I can tell you that the queen has not received much booty,’ he said in a reasonable tone of voice. ‘Certainly nothing approaching the cost to her of putting down the insurrection.’

‘The north is part of England — it should not be plundered like a foreign country.’

‘Then its people should behave like Englishmen, and obey their queen.’

Margery decided that this was a good moment to change the subject. ‘Ned, tell Bart about the problem in Wigleigh.’

‘It’s quickly stated, Bart. One of my tenant farmers has encroached on your land, and has cleared a couple of acres of forest on your side of the river.’

‘Then throw him off it,’ Bart said.

‘If you wish, I will simply tell him to stop using that land, of course.’

‘And if he disobeys?’

‘I’ll burn his crop.’

Margery knew that Ned was pretending to be harsh in order to reassure Bart.

Bart did not realize he was being manipulated. ‘It’s what he deserves,’ he said in a tone of satisfaction. ‘These peasants know the boundaries better than anyone: if he has encroached, he’s done so deliberately.’

‘I agree, but there might be a better solution,’ Ned said as if he hardly cared one way or the other. ‘After all, when peasants prosper, their landlords do too. Suppose I give you four acres of woodland somewhere else, in exchange for the two already cleared? That way, we both gain.’

Bart looked reluctant, but clearly could not think of a counterargument. However, he temporized. ‘Let’s pay a visit to Wigleigh together,’ he said. He was not good at abstract thinking, Margery knew: he would much prefer to make a decision while looking at the land in question.

Ned said: ‘Of course, I’d be glad to, especially if we can do so soon — I need to get back to London, now that my mother is buried.’

Margery felt a stab of disappointment, and realized she had been hoping that Ned would stay in Kingsbridge longer.

Bart said: ‘How about next Friday?’

Ned felt impatient, but suppressed the feeling: Margery could tell by his face, though probably no one else noticed. Clearly he would have preferred to settle this trivial matter right away so that he could get back to great affairs of state. He said: ‘Could you make it Monday?’

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 days following 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 vessel Alice after 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: ‘What do we 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’ll ever see 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.