1609, Winter of the Dead: A Novel of the Founding of Jamestown Read Free Page A

grumbled Richard. “We can’t be certain, can we? Who shall go out to measure?”
    â€œYour arms are just too short,” said Nat, grinning.
    Richard scooped another rat from his bucket and threw it, but a gust of wind kept it from going very far. The little dead creature, its toes curled and its glazed eyes open, dropped only ten feet from the ship.
    â€œPah!” grumped Richard.
    But Richard’s less-than-cheerful humor didn’t bother Nathaniel. The day was too pleasant, the sun too kind, to make him think of anything but what lay ahead. In not many weeks, they would step off onto the land of Virginia, where gold and pearls abounded, where urchin boys could become gentlemen and pompous pages would give them the respect they deserved.
    â€œIt seems to me that Samuel Collier would better serve this trip killing rats and mice than to do whatever silly errands John Smith has him do,” said Richard. He ran his hand under his nose, wiping away sooty mucus from a lingering case of sniffles. “I hate the page.”
    â€œSo do I,” said Nat. “But as I’ve told you, you must act as if he does not offend you. Stay out of his way. Act as if he does not exist and we will be the better for it.”
    â€œI cannot ignore him. He constantly chides us!”
    â€œBut we must act our station so the men will leave us alone as much as possible. When we get to Virginia, we can improve our status. We can even steal silver and pearls and run away to live in a gold-filled Virginia hill if we want! But until then, we must be quiet, dim-witted laborers.”
    â€œI hate the gentlemen, too,” said Richard. “They see us as no more than stray cats on a London alley.”
    â€œBehave as a cat and you will be seen as a cat. Behave like a humble ship’s boy and you will be seen thus.”
    Richard rolled his eyes and gestured with upturned hands. “I cannot act as well as you! You have always been able to make people believe what you want them to. You could play a part at the Globe Theatre, I am certain. But not me, I—”
    â€œStop chattering!” It was a sailor who had seen the boys pause in their work. “I’ll clout you! Back to work!”
    â€œYes, sir!” said Nat. Richard scowled.
    â€œOnly one more rat for us each,” said Nathaniel, looking into the buckets. “Here is your chance to best me.”
    Nat and Richard threw their rats at the same time. Nat’s went much farther than Richard’s, plopping into the foamy green water and then disappearing.
    â€œIdiot’s game,” said Richard.
    â€œAh, but it gives us the chance to stay above deck a bit longer, Richard,” said Nat. “If we dumped them all at once, we’d have to go back down at once, and I don’t know about you, but I prefer fresh air to stale.”
    â€œHmm,” said Richard.
    The boys stood for a few more seconds, staring out at the vast water, pretending to toss rats from the now empty buckets. All around them, sailors went about their business, checking riggings, climbing the foremast, the mizzenmast, and the mainmast to constantly check and alter the sails, shouting to each other and to the crews of the Discovery and the Godspeed not far away. The huge white sails on the three ships billowed, and the red and white St. George’s Cross flags snapped briskly in the wind. Over the past few days, there had been rough weather and the cook had been forced to put out the fire in his oven so a stray spark would not set the ship afire. Today, however, Nat could smell sweet, roasting meat from the small galley under the Great Cabin.
    Nathaniel and Richard were in the clothes they’d worn since they had left London. Both had moth-ruined wool breeches, ratty silk stockings, weather-hardened leather shoes, and simple white linen blouses. Nathaniel also owned a brown cloak, given him by the charitable wife of a wheelwright who lived in