Elizabeth I by Margaret George Page B

bowed her head and stepped back. She was always polite and subservient—on the surface. Raleigh turned around and, as always, the sheer presence of him was a marvel. Over six feet tall, solidly muscular, and now in his late thirties, he was a man in his prime.
    â€œYour Majesty,” he said. “I have tasted the kahve , and poetry is singing in my head.”
    Now he was about to present one of his verses. They were well wrought but I was not in the mood for any. I turned away, but he—without actually touching my arm—stayed me. As I looked over his shoulder, I saw Edmund Spenser, whom I had not seen for nine years, since he departed for Ireland. Raleigh all but pulled him over to me.
    â€œMy Irish neighbor,” he said, grinning.
    â€œI am come to London to present you with my humble offering,” said Spenser. “It is dedicated in its entirety to you and presents your glittering and magic court in its epic grandeur. May I leave a copy with you?”
    â€œIf you please,” I said. “What is the name of this wonder?”
    â€œ The Faerie Queene ,” he said. “It is only the first three books, of which there will be nine. The others will follow.” In the fast-deepening gloom I studied his face. He was all thin blades and angles. I hoped he had not been stricken with the Irish dysentery that weakened so many of our men there. “I shall have a presentation copy delivered to you,” he was saying.
    But already he was fading from my mind as Raleigh murmured, “I have a great concern for the colony. I beg you, let a relief ship sail right away. It has been almost three years.” He smiled that dazzling smile. “Let the Faerie Queen succor her child, Virginia.”
    â€œIs not my child thriving?”
    â€œNot having seen her myself,” he said heavily, “I cannot swear it.” He was referring to my allowing him to name the New World colony Virginia in my honor but forbidding him to go there himself. It had been set up five years ago, but no one had visited it for the past two. The coming of the Spanish Armada in 1588 meant that I could not spare ships to sail to the New World and that danger was still there. There was an embargo on ships leaving English ports.
    â€œThere has been no word?”
    â€œNone,” he said. “No one has seen the colony since the ships sailed back from Roanoke Island in November of 1587.” He paused. “The little girl born that first summer will be three years old soon. Virginia Dare. The colony needs supplies. It needed them two years ago. It may be desperate by now.”
    He was right. Something had to be done. “Very well,” I said. “I shall authorize a small fleet.” Our footing in the New World was but a toehold compared to that of the Spanish, but by staking out territory in the north, beyond their grasp, we could, in time, offset their advantage. The Spanish held the southernmost parts of that coast, a place they called Florida, but we could contain them there and prevent their spread.
    Was not the entire continent of South America enough for them? The riches of the Incas and Aztecs feeding their treasuries? As the landmass narrowed toward the wasp-waisted isthmus, the Spanish processed their loot before shipping it back to Spain. Twenty years ago Drake had realized that was their soft spot, where they could be surprised and raided. It had worked for a while, but then the element of surprise was lost and the Spanish raised their guard. Drake then moved his surprise to the west coast of South America, attacking them in Peru before they could transfer the goods to the isthmus. Drake. His genius was undeniable.
    But the Spanish had learned from their mistakes and fortified themselves; they were rebuilding the Armada with more modern ships copied from our designs. A ship falling into enemy hands is a disaster, for its secrets will be revealed. We captured and destroyed so many of