“…Do you understand?”

It began with Sir Raleigh’s statement.

-“This is a fruit that the savages hold most precious. My trusted explorer, John White, says he obtained it by pleading with a noble ‘local collaborator.’ I suspect he may be a great king or emperor of the region.”

There is a great king or emperor in the Americas.

-“I am told our colonists, together with a powerful local collaborator, have defeated a Spanish fleet. They have captured a galleon and are now using it for their defense.”

A monarch powerful enough to defeat the Spanish.

Besides this, every time Sir Raleigh introduced the treasures he had obtained, he would casually mention that ‘local collaborator.’ He was likely just repeating what he had heard from his explorers.

In other words, all the gifts he had presented to the Queen had come from that powerful ‘local collaborator.’ Raleigh’s collaborator commanded artisans who could cut jewels more exquisitely than any in Europe, possessed the military might to defeat Spain, and ruled over a farm that cultivated delicious fruit.

With this, everything became clear.

-“Raleigh’s colony is a product of his relationship with that local collaborator! If we can win him over and separate him from Raleigh’s explorers…!”

The Earl of Essex had proposed this to his father-in-law, Sir Walsingham, a man who hated Raleigh as much as he did.

-“And what if the colonial enterprise falls apart?”

Walsingham, the Queen’s spymaster, had refused him flatly.

-“Don’t be ridiculous. That colony is a good staging point to attack the Spanish colonies. And it possesses immense resources.”

-“But… if this continues, Walter Raleigh will…?”

-“Raleigh, Raleigh. Are you afraid he will monopolize Her Majesty the Queen’s favor? Are you not younger than he? Try using that charm of yours.”

• -“…”
• -“If that is all you have to say, then I will be going.”
• Premise 1: Walsingham no longer keeps Raleigh in check.
• Premise 2: Walsingham raised me to be Raleigh’s rival.

Conclusion 1: Walsingham has abandoned me.

Conclusion 2: I am politically finished.

A cornered man will do anything. And so, the Earl of Essex began to formulate a ‘plan.’ A plan to bring down Sir Raleigh’s colony.

***

Today, we were all gathered once again in the church-slash-town hall-slash-meeting room. As I knelt on both knees and clasped my hands, everyone swallowed hard. Hewitt, who stood before me, was even trembling.

“Ah, um… haah, I’m nervous.”

“Is this not just a rehearsal? You can proceed without feeling burdened.”

“In that case, I will begin. Now… Nemo, Great Chief of the Croatoan, the Pamlico, the Chesapeake, and so on, will now, under the blessing of God, swear allegiance to Elizabeth, the rightful Queen of England, France, and Ireland, and Defender of the Faith…”

“Pfft.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Ah! No, I, I’m sorry… It was just so absurd…”

“It is quite all right, Mrs. Dare. It is absurd.”

“What in the world is this situation…”

“Since you have already become a Great Chief, couldn’t you just think of this as a similar secular position?”

“That is not a position that requires one to serve another. But this, uh, an angel? For you to become a subject of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth is just too strange.”

“Ahem. This was the best Sir Raleigh could come up with, was it not? For now, this will be beneficial for Sir Nemo’s safety as well.”

Once the tension was broken, everyone began to chatter loudly. Huffs of laughter, sighs, and all sorts of complaints were exchanged. From their perspective, it must have been an unbelievable state of affairs. To treat an angel as a ‘savage great chief’ and even to install him as a subject of Elizabeth Tudor, who was playing the part of the monarch of England ‘under the blessing of God.’

“Mr. Hewitt is right. Everyone, please calm down.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“As long as I walk the earth in this physical body, I have no choice but to become the subject of some monarch. Jesus himself said to render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, so the matter of to whom this body I have borrowed is subject is no insult to the Lord.”

“I-I see.”

“If you say so, Sir Nemo…”

But as Hewitt had said, this was more beneficial for me. In any case, unless I was truly an angel and a being unbound by earthly status, I was, in the end, just a slightly unusual person living on this land. I needed a ‘status.’ Especially… if I was to survive the coming storm of colonialism and imperialism.

I needed to be connected to England. For my own safety and the safety of my people, I could endure something like this ‘coronation’ as a subject of England. Honestly, I didn’t feel any sense of humiliation. The only ones who felt humiliated were those who served and followed me, like the people here. And I could persuade them.

As long as I wasn’t going to visit England in person… how would they know if I was immortal or not? The number of people who would see my face and meet me in person would continue to be limited to a few dozen or a few hundred, just as it was now. The worry about my status was a matter for hundreds of years in the future, when white people would begin to cross over to this land in droves, and cameras and all sorts of inventions would appear.

Many native peoples have disappeared from the history recorded by Europeans. What happened to Manteo after the Roanoke colony failed? No one knows. I could be the same. I could hide myself, change my status and name, and live on. I could even become my own son and inherit this position.

So… until then, I will focus on securing my own safety and seizing influence and status in this land of America.

I must survive. If I do not survive. If I… become an enemy of the Europeans and am hunted down, or am confined and meet a fate worse than death… that is no longer a matter that concerns only me.

“That’s right! Let’s proceed according to the script again!”

“Mr. Hewitt, if you please.”

“Yes. Then, ahem… Nemo, Great Chief of the Croatoan, the Pamlico, the Chesapeake, and so on, will now…”

…all of them, all of these people who believe I am an angel and follow me unconditionally, will be in danger. Unlike me, they can die.

So, a coronation like this is nothing.

I must survive. That is my purpose and my duty.

***

Swoooosh!

The sound of waves lapping against the salt-soaked wood of the ship woke Sir Raleigh from a light slumber. He had been up all night organizing his ledgers and attending to various miscellaneous tasks. Across from him in the cabin, Thomas Harriot was engrossed in solving some algebraic problem.

“Don’t you get seasick doing that on a ship?”

“Not at all. On the contrary, it helps me focus and soothes my troubles.”

“I cannot understand it. What is so enjoyable about such things?”

“Do you not write poetry, my lord Raleigh? It is similar.”

“My good man, that is completely different. A completely different matter. As different as a devil and an angel… are…”

An angel.

“…What is it? Did something suddenly occur to you?”

“No, I was just thinking of my proposal to hold a coronation for Sir Nemo.”

“You are consistently using honorifics for the ‘Emperor’.”

“Of course. He is… uh… a being sent by the Lord.”

“Hrmmm.”

“Never mind. What is the use of talking about such things with an atheist?”

And so, silence fell again, and Walter Raleigh, dozing off, saw a vision of that day.

-“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.”

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

He could not forget it. The shock, the overwhelming presence, the mystery, and the holiness.

“…Who would have thought the Pope’s name would really be Clement?”

“Pardon? What did you say?”

“No. It is nothing.”

“…”

“…”

An angel exists. And if an angel exists, then the Lord, too, must surely be enthroned high in the heavens. And if the Lord exists, then the death and resurrection He has prepared, and Heaven and Hell, must also exist.

As his thoughts reached that point, he thought of his friend before him. His atheist friend.

“…Are you not afraid?”

“Of what?”

“No, I mean, of living as an atheist. If there is nothing after death, then it is for the better. But if you think of an eternal fire burning your body and soul…”

“If there is nothing after death, then there is nothing to worry about. And if there is an eternal hellfire, then is it not the duty of a free man to resist the tyrant who created such a thing?”

“Enough. That is a sentiment that could get you executed for just not reporting it to the authorities.”

“Haha, then why did you ask in the first place?”

“Because I…”

“Yes, my lord Raleigh?”

“…”

Because I have seen an angel.

Because I have seen the Holy Spirit descend upon his voice, transcending human language, and the Lord’s foresight, transcending time, descend upon his knowledge.

“…What would you do… if an angel really existed?”

“That kind of question again?”

“No, this is a distinctly different question. If an angel exists, that is, imagine that an angel exists and you have met him in person.”

“Haaah, very well. If you wish to continue this meaningless exchange, I will gladly play along.”

Thomas Harriot closed the notebook he had been writing his equations in and turned from his desk to face Sir Raleigh.

“Very well. I have imagined that an angel exists and that I have met him in person. And so?”

“Then what would you do? Would you change your beliefs? How would you act? Would you not have many things to ask him?”

“Well, of course. For instance, if Adam and Eve were the first humans, and their children were Cain, Abel, and Seth, three sons, then how did humanity continue? How did Cain have descendants, and how did Seth have descendants?”

“…God must have created other humans. Or Adam and Eve could have had other children.”

“Then humanity is either not solely descended from Adam and Eve, or it is the product of incest. If the former is true, then why is original sin passed down?”

“…Let’s say the latter is true. Perhaps incest was not a sin in the beginning.”

“Then what is and is not a sin changes with the times? Do the Lord’s commandments also keep changing?”

“Uh… besides asking such useless questions, is there nothing else? You wouldn’t be able to remain an atheist, would you?”

Even as he said this, Raleigh made a mental note of Harriot’s words. To ask Nemo later.

“Well, I suppose I would be shocked if I saw an angel. I would be very shocked.”

“Yes. You would, wouldn’t you? You would probably convert and return to the word of the Lord, would you not?”

“I wonder. I do not think so.”

“…What? Why? If there is an angel, then there must be a Hell. Would you not be afraid of Hell?”

“Pardon? Hahahaha!”

At Raleigh’s words, Harriot laughed until his sides hurt, then wiped away a tear.

“Even if I were to meet a so-called ‘angel,’ I believe I would remain an atheist.”

“…”

Nonsense. To be so confident without having even met him.

How could a human not kneel before that overwhelming presence? How could a human not repent his sins before Him?

Raleigh smiled bitterly and shook his head. That was the only reaction he could show his old friend.

“Yes… you are a stubborn man, so you would remain an atheist. Let’s say that is so. But would others do the same?”

“Hah, other people, you say?”

“Yes. Everyone else would be overwhelmed by the existence of an angel. They would all repent their sins and shed tears.”

“Hmm… even someone like the Pope?”

“Yes. Even a proud Antichrist like the Pope.”

A truly devout Protestant sentiment. At Raleigh’s words, this time it was Harriot who smiled bitterly and retorted.

“I think differently.”

“…What? What strange thought are you entertaining now?”

“I know exactly how people would react if they saw an angel.”

Harriot, with a cynical smile, opened a flask from his pocket and took a swig. His tongue slightly loosened, Harriot raised one corner of his mouth and spoke.

“People would see that angel and denounce him as a devil. And they would surely try to kill him. No matter what.”

***

Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.

In a corner of the cramped cabin, they sharpened their knives on a whetstone. The ship rocked endlessly on the waves, but their hands did not waver for a single moment, honing the blades to a razor’s edge. They exchanged meaningful glances, conversing in silence, while at the same time keeping their senses sharp and paying attention to their surroundings. It was a matter of course, given the nature of their profession.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

“Hey! It looks like we’ll be reaching land soon. When do you think you’ll be done packing?”

The gentleman they were currently sailing with, a certain Francis Bacon, probably thought of them as nothing more than newly hired servants… but they were assassins.

Killers hired by the Earl of Essex, Robert Devereux.

They were on their way to kill the emperor of the New World.