Armada

The thought made Cross hasten his step and he mounted his horse and spurred him into a gallop over the hard ground. The ambush would have made Robert Young more wary, that much was certain, but no man could remain invisible whose very mission called for a position of prominence and importance. Cross was confident he would find him eventually and regain his reputation and standing amongst those who stood for loyalty to the Crown and the Protestant faith.

CHAPTER 10

9th April 1588. Lisbon, Portugal.

Evardo paced through the extended shadows in the small courtyard, his hand held loosely on the hilt of his sword. As he turned on his heel, he glanced at the stout wooden door on the east face. It remained firmly closed and Evardo wondered impatiently how much longer he would have to wait. The thought brought a wry smile to his face. After so long, he could suffer a further few minutes.

Passing through the centre of the courtyard he heard a clamour from outside and he looked to the arched entranceway that led to the docks. Men were rushing past the opening, many carrying provisions and arms, while heavily laden carts were being driven along the docks, whip cracks splitting the air. Evardo felt a rush of excitement and he gazed at the fraction of Lisbon harbour that was framed in the archway. It was choked with all manner of ships and Evardo felt his chest swell with pride.

Drake’s attack on Cadiz had severely wounded the Armada. His marauding had kept the squadrons apart and distracted the Empire with fears for the treasure fleets. Lesser nations would have lost their resolve in the face of such adversity but Spain had rallied magnificently. Preparations for the divine crusade had never ceased and now the Armada was once more a vital, living thing.

During his absence the Armada had been poised to sail a number of times, but supply problems and the winter months had forced delays. With shame, Evardo had thanked God for those setbacks, for despite their effects on Spain’s plans, the opportunity to fulfil his vow still remained.

Since his return to Spain almost four months before, his brother Miguel had worked tirelessly to secure Evardo a new command. His initial efforts however had been blocked by the Marquis of Santa Cruz, the commander of the Armada and owner of the Halcón. Then in February, to Evardo’s secret joy, Santa Cruz had died. The King had swiftly ordered another man into the breach, Don Alonso Pérez de Guzmán, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, one of the highest ranked nobles in the land. Unfettered by the marquis’s veto, Miguel was finally successful in securing a commission for his brother.

Evardo turned away from the archway and began pacing again. The heat of the day was rising and he moved deeper into the shadows. He glanced again at the closed door. He had been summoned to this place twice over the past week, both times to meet his new patron Diego Flores de Valdés, the commander of the squadron of Castile. On the previous occasion he had met Medina Sidonia.

The duke was an imposing figure and although he was not the warrior that Santa Cruz had been he was a brilliant administrator. At the time of Santa Cruz’s death in February the Armada had been languishing in a mire of supply problems and a chaotic schedule that was struggling to combine the diverse ships and ordinance that had been gathered from throughout the Empire. Medina Sidonia had worked tirelessly from his first day in command and under his firm hand the Armada had made a miraculous leap forward. The number of ships in the fleet had increased from 104 to 130 and the number of troops sailing had doubled to almost 19,000.

Many problems still remained however. De Valdés had shared some of them with Evardo, but he had not yet named the ship he was to command. Evardo had been forced to wait impatiently over the previous days, eager to encounter and solve the problems that surely awaited him on his new ship. The door finally opened and Evardo walked quickly towards it as an orderly came out to call him. After the heat of the courtyard, the interior was cool and Evardo removed his broad-brimmed hat, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The corridors were bustling with activity. Evardo sidestepped his way around tight knots of conversation and frantic runners as he followed the orderly to de Valdés’s office. A cursory knock on the door was followed by the command to enter and Evardo went inside alone.