Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [100]
I watched Ladi-cate. Her hands touching as she smiled at Mika and Grem. Her skin, her eyes, and even her teeth shining as if the moon glowed within her. More than anything in the world, I desired to hold her hands and touch her lips. To dance with her as Grem danced with Mika. But how did one begin this English custom? I stood by gazing at her helplessly.
Then Ladi-cate’s eyes met mine. She understood what I wanted. She came up to me and reached for my hand. Drew me toward the other dancers. Stepped and skipped and clapped her hands. I did the same. She put one of my hands on her waist and held the other, teaching me how to move with her. She released my hands, retreated, and bowed. Then returned to me. Laughed, a sound like the song of a thrush. We said not a word to each other. There was no need. A shiver passed through me whenever I touched her. Like the shock of plunging into a river on a hot day, only a thousand times more pleasurable. When the dance was over I dared to touch the back of her head, wanting only to keep her near. Would she draw back? She remained as still as a bird in my hand. Her long hair brushed my forearm. The gods made me bold. I put my free hand to my lips, then reached out and touched her lips. She pressed them against my fingers. Her gray eyes did not leave my face.
Algon never had such joy with his Moon Maiden as I did with my Ladi-cate that night. Then I released her, for I knew in my heart she would not run, but stay near me.
Chapter 39
From the Papers of Sir Walter Ralegh
25 January 1590
My dear brother Carew,
Her Majesty has at last granted my wish and I am to sail for Virginia! But here is the irony of my good fortune: I must pretend misfortune. The world will believe I am hiding in Ireland, out of favor with Her Majesty yet again. Conceal my true whereabouts as you would a stolen treasure. For you know the envious (and now ailing) Walsingham strives to block my every enterprise.
I expect to report the colonists thriving, the savages converted, and Virginia producing copper, pearls, and all manner of riches. That will silence every critic.
Bid me good luck in this endeavor and destroy the evidence of this letter.
Yours, W.R.
7 February 1590
To William Fitzwilliam, Lord Deputy of Ireland
Having roused Her Majesty’s wrath yet again, I am retiring to a remote place until my offenses are forgiven or forgotten. In my absence I hereby authorize my cousin, Sir George Carew, to sign leases in my name and continue the renovation of Lismore Castle. Do not attempt to communicate with me, as I desire not to be found.
W.R.
10 February 1590
To John White, Esq.
I am at last in a position to respond to your many petitions regarding the relief of the Virginia colonists.
Her Majesty has graciously released three of my ships for the voyage. The Hopewell at 150 tons will carry ordnance, equipment, and colonists, with the Little John and John Evangelist as escorts. The Caribbean waters are thick with Spanish pirates this year, so the risk is great. Capts. Christopher Newport and Abraham Cooke have been persuaded by the promise of gain to undertake the voyage. Such is the state of my financial affairs that privateering must be the means to provision the colony.
Present yourself at Plymouth in four weeks’ time where you shall learn more.
Yours, Sir W. Ralegh
Narrative of a Voyage to Virginia.
Departed Plymouth on the 20th of March, 1590. Fair and auspicious winds SSE. John White and I aboard the Hopewell with Captain Abraham Cooke.
Just before sailing, Cooke announced he would carry no colonists, saying they would be endangered in the event of a sea battle.