Chapter 27

“Hah, haaah…”

Breath came in ragged gasps. Sir Walter Raleigh, feeling a sense of suffocation, unbuttoned his waistcoat to calm his breathing. He could feel the sheer weight of the being’s presence. A tension he had never felt before, not even when he first met Her Majesty the Queen, flowed down his spine.

“Ah… aaaaaah…!”

He recalled the fantasy he had just been painting in his mind. He would kneel before the noble yet ignorant savage great chief and pay his respects. The chief would utter a few clumsy words in English and show curiosity toward Walter Raleigh’s clothes. He would laugh, gently brushing away the chief’s hand without being rude, and then present the Bible, saying, ‘This is the spring of eternal life.’ The chief would then ask, ‘A spring?’, and turn the Bible over and over, examining it. Not knowing what a book is, he would ponder how to handle this strange object. Then, he would slowly teach him how to open the Bible and read the first verse. ‘In the beginning… let there be light…’

Yes. Just like that. One letter at a time, he would teach the blessed verses of the Gospel to one who did not know it.

The memory of how foolish that fantasy had been brought a flush to his face. He let out a ragged breath and opened his mouth.

“W-w-what… are you? What in God’s name…!”

“Did I not say? I am one who sees the light of the Lord up close.”

Again. With every single word, he felt a heavy pressure. It was as if he were hearing the voice not with his eardrums, but directly with his heart.

“I am nothing compared to the Lord.”

Every syllable he uttered was translated into the many languages familiar to him and hammered into his ears like nails. This, this could no longer be called ‘speech.’

“I am Nemo.”

This is the coming of the Holy Spirit.

And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. (Acts 2:2)

And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. (Acts 2:3)

*And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. (Acts 2:4)[1]It was exactly as described in the Acts of the Apostles.

Trembling with fear, his eyes half-filled with tears, Walter Raleigh looked up and spoke.

“Are you… the Lord?”

“A foolish thing to say. How can you confuse the potter with the pot?”

“In that case.”

“Did I not say? I am one who hears the word of the Lord up close, sees the light of the Lord up close, and touches the hem of the Lord’s garment up close. I am Nemo.”

“…Nemo.”

“Yes. That is what the people of the earth call me.”

“…”

Only then did Raleigh feel something click into place in his mind. Why John White had shown such a cautious reverence. Why he had been so reluctant, so slowly, to reveal ‘His’ identity.

Tremble. A tremor started from his fingertips. His whole body shook with awe and shame.

I was going to present him with a Bible.

“I-if you are not Satan or the Antichrist, then you must be an angel…!”

Good heavens, to such a being, he had intended to present a Bible! To perform a baptism! To make him swear an oath to become a subject of England!

“Are you worried… that I might be a devil? Indeed, that is possible. The second beast of the apocalypse performs great signs, even making fire come down from heaven to earth in front of people, mimicking the power of the Lord (Revelation 13:12-13).”

“N-no, no, I am not…”

“Speak honestly.”

“…”

Walter Raleigh, barely enduring the fear that enveloped his entire body, managed to speak.

“If you are Satan… you will vanish in the name of the Lord. If not, then I, I dare to ask for proof in this place…”

“…”

“Yes! Just as I may be as foolish as St. Thomas, who put his finger in the Lord’s side, or as Gideon, who only came to believe after seeing the dry fleece, ah, to doubt and be wary of evil is also a virtue that His sheep must possess…”

“You are right.”

‘Nemo’ nodded at him and smiled.

“Well done. Though you have broken the seventh commandment, you are one who truly strives to serve the Lord.”

The seventh… commandment… the seventh commandment from Exodus…

*‘Thou shalt not commit adultery.’*

Ah. Aaaah… Raleigh’s face flushed red once more. He bowed his head so low that his face nearly touched the floor.

“I-I-I, have been in a most shameful relationship with our virgin Queen…”

“Hmm? That is not what I am talking about.”

“…Uh, pardon?”

“Your lover, Beth.”

“Pardon? How do you know of her…?”

“You wish to marry her, yet you share a bed with the Queen. This is a shameful thing.”

How. This being before him was one that made the word ‘how’ a shame to utter.

…And yet, with a sliver of doubt, with a fear of Hell, Raleigh asks.

“Th-that… is a matter of the past, is it not? It is something a devil could also know…”

“Go back.”

“…Pardon?”

“Go back, and see. See the current Pope die, and see Ippolito Aldobrandini of San Pancrazio become the new Pope. He will take ‘Clement’ (Clemens)[2] as his new name.”

“…”

A clear prophecy. No one knew if it was true or not, but he spoke with such conviction. That conviction silenced Raleigh’s lips. The death of a Pope and the accession of a new one.

Muttering the name, Ippolito Aldobrandini, Walter Raleigh, still on his knees, managed to rise.

And then the ‘angel’ said to him.

“Do not be afraid.”

How can this sinful man not be afraid of the servant of the Lord?

“I have not come to punish you. The Lord has not prepared a curse for you, but glory and bliss.”

“…”

“The Lord will use you in a great way.”

In that moment, Walter Raleigh’s hands began to tremble. The angel’s voice, which had now become familiar, wrapped around his ears.

“Therefore… serve the one and only Him with a devout heart.”

Glory. He had spent his entire life chasing wealth and glory. Not something that could be washed away by the whim of the wind and waves in a single moment, like a drawing in the sand, but a wealth and glory that would last forever, as if carved into a great marble temple.

He had just been promised that. By an angel. From… the Lord.

“Ah, Amen…”

Raleigh could utter nothing else.

***

“Th-this needle of life… pierce your body with it!” John White shouted in the clumsy Algonquian he had learned. “Have the numbers of your tribes not suddenly dwindled of late? Have people not been suddenly dropping dead?”

Murmur, murmur. Opechancanough and all the others nodded gravely. It was a problem that every chief here had experienced. Death would have come with a sudden rash on the body. No one would have known the reason for the death. They would have simply thought it was the wrath of something not human. A few clever ones might have realized that those who had been with the people from across the sea were the first to die, but there was nothing they could have done.

“The Great Chief has said that if you are pierced by this needle, you will suffer for a few days but will then live, and death will retreat! Hallelujah!”

At White’s emotional speech, more chiefs flocked to him, holding out their arms one by one.

Prick. Prick. Prick.

A drop of blood welled up, and a slight grimace appeared on the warriors’ faces. As men who had been tattooed, having a needle brought to their bodies was not so unfamiliar.

Watching this from a distance, I said to Walter Raleigh.

“Do you see?”

“I-I see it. I do not know why the pus of a cow is being injected into the arms of those savag— I mean, natives, but…”

“This land will hereafter flow with a river of countless bloodshed and injustice. Millions will be massacred in the name of the Lord, and they will die screaming the name of the Lord with hatred.”

“…”

The blood, tears, hatred, and deprived lives of millions. Startled by the weight of those words, Walter Raleigh’s shoulders trembled slightly.

This was a clear truth. Look at how the population of the natives, which numbered in the millions, would later decline. It was the result not just of epidemics, but of systematic massacres and forced relocations.

But this place had now become the land of an angel. Such a thing could not be allowed to happen in an angel’s land.

“However, I have said that I will use you in a great way, and that is to make the name of the Lord shine in this land.”

“To make the name of the Lord shine, you say?”

“Half of those people were fated to die of smallpox. But thanks to the dairy cows you sent, they will now not suffer from it.”⁵

“…”

“Furthermore, the other half of them were fated to be stabbed to death by the swords and guns of those who claim to believe in the Lord. You have saved them as well. You have surely broken many commandments. But through you, a sinner, millions have been saved. This is the profound providence of the Lord.”

“Ah, ahh… I-I am ashamed.”

Walter Raleigh was a man who had strived for power his entire life but had obtained nothing. He was not a member of the Queen’s Privy Council, and he could not offer her advice beyond his coquettish flatteries. Everyone called him the Queen’s favorite, but in reality, his influence was negligible.

“How… I do not know how you can use one as lowly as I in such a great way.”

“A tool does not question why its master chooses to use it.”

I will fill the void of his self-esteem.

“All men are made in His image. You may be a sinner, but why do you consider yourself lowly?”

“Sir Nemo, however.”

“Behold.”

I took Raleigh’s slumped shoulders and made him look out over the hill. Thousands of people were plowing the fields. Planting potatoes and wheat.

“This is a sight you have created. What do you think?”

“…It is beautiful.”

“They will soon hear the Gospel and enter the gates of Heaven. That, too, is your doing. That you are a sinner does not wash away all these great deeds. You are a sinner, but your works will remain immortal.”

“…”

I see a tear fall from Raleigh’s eye.

“Walter Raleigh.”

“…Yes, Sir Angel.”

“Return to London. Go, and gather hundreds of my people and bring them to my arms.”

“For what purpose is that?”

“To make a holy church stand in this land.”

It is so that this colony can become self-sufficient.

Thousands of clumsy new farmers have appeared. They have come under my control. In that case, is this an English colony? Or is it a kingdom of the natives? If my domain remains a kingdom of the natives…?

‘It will be exterminated someday.’

Not just by England. The more likely conquerors, the Spanish, will be eyeing this place greedily from Florida to the south. And there is also France, which will extend its ambitions toward the New World. They, too, will advance into North America within a few decades.

I cannot survive here just by establishing a native kingdom. I must accept the relatively advanced civilization of Europe, be able to expand through a continuous influx of population, and also establish an independent community. Therefore, to survive, I need more English people here.

“I will gather the English and establish a colony here. Through that colony, I will make the word of the Lord be spread wider and deeper.”

This, too, was not a lie. How would I spread Christianity to them? Should I harm myself and continuously perform miracles? Even if I did, they would think it was a strange sign, but they wouldn’t believe I was a Christian angel. It is very difficult for a faith to take root on its own without an organized religious community. The case of Joseon Korea, where people converted on their own after just reading the Bible, is rare in world history.

…Yes. I have not lied to Raleigh.

Because he believes I am an angel. Because I am an angel, every word I say to him must be true. My words must seem righteous to him. Because faith and worship are not one-sided. The one who worships inevitably moves the one who is worshipped.

I suddenly feel the gazes of John White and Manteo, who have turned toward me during the inoculations. I see the firm faith in their eyes. I see the conviction that I will protect them, that I will save their souls.

When I turn my gaze, I see that such conviction is also beginning to burn in Raleigh’s eyes.

I help the kneeling Raleigh to his feet again and say to him.

“Return to England. Go, and do as I have said.”

And as I spoke.

“…I will do so at once.”

Raleigh, with a determined expression, boarded the ship. To find more fuel to add to the flame of his conviction.

He went to England.

***

“My lord Raleigh, have you heard the news? The Antichrist Pope is dead!”

“…Yes.”

As soon as he returned to England, Raleigh felt his heart tremble. The Pope was dead. The cardinal of the Basilica di San Pancrazio had been elected as the new Pope. His name was Ippolito Aldobrandini. His papal name…

“Clement VIII.”

A shiver ran through Walter Raleigh’s entire body.

-“He will take ‘Clement’ (Clemens) as his new name.”

How… how could everything be so perfectly correct?

With the last of his doubts washed away, he immediately set to work to carry out ‘His’ instructions.

“These ones are currently infected with cowpox. It would be better to take them after they have recovered…”

“No, we will take them at once.”

For a while, he only gathered dairy cows. Since cowpox was a disease that cattle easily contracted and recovered from, he could not be selective and had to be content with gathering several hundred head at random.

And… next was people.

Sir Raleigh greatly expanded the Virginia Trading Company. No, the trading company, which had not yet turned a single profit, had already grown without needing to be expanded.

“H-here! Do you not need a blacksmith? A blacksmith! A skilled blacksmith!”

“I heard you are recruiting bricklayers! If you choose me, I will cover the entire New Roman Empire with bricks!”

“Here, here, do you not need a basket maker? Please… please take us too!”

“N-now, now, calm down. The miners over there, please go back! The quota for miners is already full!”

“What, you say there are overflowing jewels and precious metals, so why are you hiring so few miners?”

On the first floor of the bustling Virginia Trading Company building, all sorts of middle and lower-class people were applying for immigration. But since only a very few of them were selected, their eyes were filled with disappointment and anxiety.

And on the second floor, the relatively upper class and nobility came and went. Raleigh, who had been filtering out the unskilled immigrants all day, would occasionally greet a guest to attract investment or exchange pleasantries.

But.

“…A Member of Parliament? What brings you here?”

“Oh, just that the fame of your colony is growing by the day… I wished to travel there myself.”

“…”

“…”

Today, a guest had come with a different purpose. The man before him was, frankly, a thorn in Sir Raleigh’s side. He was a man who had made his name as an advisor to his political rival, the Earl of Essex, Robert Devereux. It was not particularly pleasant for him to see the man, having received the Queen’s favor, gradually exercising his political influence.

But… that was no reason to be openly hostile. That was the rule of the subtle stage of politics.

“…In any case, as you, my lord, have not granted the right to sail to the Virginia colony to anyone, it seems I have no choice but to travel on your ship.”

“Hmm…”

“I am curious! What kind of society will unfold in the New World! And how majestic will the great Indian Emperor be…”

“‘He’ is not someone you can mention so easily.”

“…You speak highly of a savage?”

“Hah, do you think a mere savage could possess such high-level technologies?”

“That may be a valid point. In any case, I wish to go as well. I am not saying I will settle there permanently, but just to travel and look around.”

“…”

“Would that be all right?”

Walter Raleigh stroked his chin for a while and stared at the man before him. The man did not show any great hostility toward Sir Raleigh. It seemed he really did want to go to the New World out of pure academic curiosity. …Or, as the rumors said, he might be the type to flatter those in power, and he might be trying to switch sides.

Sir Raleigh cautiously nodded at the man before him and said.

“…Very well. I hope it will be a satisfactory journey for you.”

“Hahahaha! Thank you, my lord Raleigh! I will be sure to repay you for this someday!”

“But do not go spreading rumors. The fare will be expensive, and the available cabins will not be spacious. We are already short on space to transport the earnest subjects who will settle there permanently, so it would be troublesome if tourists who flaunt their status were to flock to us.”

“I understand! I will be sure to keep that in mind!”

The man bowed his head deeply, his hat pulled low, and said.

“I, Francis Bacon[3], will never forget this kindness!”

After sending the man off, Sir Raleigh sighed and leaned back in his chair. That was already the second tourist. First, some strange actor had come and pleaded with him, so he had accepted him, and now a sycophant.

Raleigh looked at the calendar. It was already February of 1592. The dreamlike moment of his audience was already three or four months ago. …It had been enough time to carry out ‘His’ command.

-‘February 25, 1592: Departure Date.’

So it was written on the calendar. In a few days, he would set sail again. This time, with hundreds of new settlers.

***

“I hear Mr. Bacon is going on a tour… was this agreed upon with my lord?”

“No! He left on his own whim…! Haaah, that’s just like that turncoat. It is for the best. We need a witness.”

Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex, said, nervously stroking a dagger.

“We need a witness to tell us how Sir Raleigh’s American colony fell.”