‹ Prequel: A Good Run
Status: 2 of 7 volumes. Active.
The White Doe
Four
July, 1587.
The journey had begun ill and continued so. The three ships, led by the Lion under expatriate Portuguese sailor Simon Fernandez, had gotten off to a late start. The journey over the open ocean to the West Indies and thence to Virginia had been dreadful at best, indescribably horrific during the frequent storms.
The 166 colonists had endured vile food, poisoned fruits and noxious water. Throughout it all, Fernandez had played the part of a villain. He had put privateering and profit over the good of the colonists, despite the fact that Raleigh's gold was paying for the venture and had continually made and broken so many promises that White had lost count. He would not be sorry to see Fernandey depart once he had deposited them at Chesapeake.
Finally, in late July, the little fleet anchored off Roanoke Island. White and a few men went ashore in the small pinnace. White felt a stirring of fond familiarity. He'd liked this place. But it would not be home. He was here to look for fifteen men left behind when Governor Lane departed last year and then proceed on to the permanent site at Chesapeake.
"Governor!" It was one of Fernandez's men, calling from the Lion. "Leave your men on the shore. Only you and three men may reboard to gather your supplies and assist the rest of this vessel."
"What?" Surely White had been mistaken, but the man leered.
"You're all staying here. Captain says the summer is too far gone--he won't go on to Chesapeake!"
Even as White gaped, searching for words of protest, the swarthy Portuguese appeared on the deck. His eyes met White's and he grinned. Sick, White realized he had no options. The deed was done. There would be no lush Chesapeake, only the harsh reality of Roanoke, which had already failed before, all because a greedy captain wished to continue to plunder.
"Don't look so sad, White!" Bellowed Fernandez. "I'll be back by the end of summer, to see if any of you are tired of this New World!"
He felt a hand on his shoulder. His son-in-law, Ananias Dare. White looked into the younger's man's face, knowing his importence and fear was reflected on his features.
"You and Eleanor should have stayed in England." He said, his voice breaking. "Roanoke is no place to give birth."
"Perhaps better here than onboard the ship. We are all in God's hands. This must be our destiny." Said Ananias. "And the baby will come regardless."
There was nothing more to say. They continued on toward the beach and White felt the eyes of some who were not as kind as Ananias boring into him.
The journey had begun ill and continued so. The three ships, led by the Lion under expatriate Portuguese sailor Simon Fernandez, had gotten off to a late start. The journey over the open ocean to the West Indies and thence to Virginia had been dreadful at best, indescribably horrific during the frequent storms.
The 166 colonists had endured vile food, poisoned fruits and noxious water. Throughout it all, Fernandez had played the part of a villain. He had put privateering and profit over the good of the colonists, despite the fact that Raleigh's gold was paying for the venture and had continually made and broken so many promises that White had lost count. He would not be sorry to see Fernandey depart once he had deposited them at Chesapeake.
Finally, in late July, the little fleet anchored off Roanoke Island. White and a few men went ashore in the small pinnace. White felt a stirring of fond familiarity. He'd liked this place. But it would not be home. He was here to look for fifteen men left behind when Governor Lane departed last year and then proceed on to the permanent site at Chesapeake.
"Governor!" It was one of Fernandez's men, calling from the Lion. "Leave your men on the shore. Only you and three men may reboard to gather your supplies and assist the rest of this vessel."
"What?" Surely White had been mistaken, but the man leered.
"You're all staying here. Captain says the summer is too far gone--he won't go on to Chesapeake!"
Even as White gaped, searching for words of protest, the swarthy Portuguese appeared on the deck. His eyes met White's and he grinned. Sick, White realized he had no options. The deed was done. There would be no lush Chesapeake, only the harsh reality of Roanoke, which had already failed before, all because a greedy captain wished to continue to plunder.
"Don't look so sad, White!" Bellowed Fernandez. "I'll be back by the end of summer, to see if any of you are tired of this New World!"
He felt a hand on his shoulder. His son-in-law, Ananias Dare. White looked into the younger's man's face, knowing his importence and fear was reflected on his features.
"You and Eleanor should have stayed in England." He said, his voice breaking. "Roanoke is no place to give birth."
"Perhaps better here than onboard the ship. We are all in God's hands. This must be our destiny." Said Ananias. "And the baby will come regardless."
There was nothing more to say. They continued on toward the beach and White felt the eyes of some who were not as kind as Ananias boring into him.