Carta Marina E-Book

alastair macleod

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

In the year 1588; with the blessing of the Pope, the Spanish Armada sets out from Iberia to invade England. This is the story of a young man's coming of age. Of first love in Lisbon, as he prepares to sail with his father on the huge fleet of ships assembled by King Phillip II of Spain, then a close encounter with death on the high seas, as they first battle the English, then find themselves pitted against Atlantic summer storms in unknown waters as the Armada tries to sail round the top of Scotland. It is also the story of their wrecked ship, the El Gran Grifón and its crew. Surviving, in northern waters, when so many other Armada crews perished on the coast of Ireland, these men owed much of their fate to a remarkable map,the Carta Marina, created by the young man's grandfather.

Leseprobe

Alastair Macleod

Carta Marina

or necklace of gold

"To Olaus Magnus, of Sweden and his remarkable map. The Gulf Stream pushes up from the South West against Ireland and the Hebrides, then through the Northern Isles. But the Armada, going the other way, into the current, left a Rosary around the British Isles, a prayer of ships, and men, and Spanish gold; Phillip of Spain's necklace" BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Carta Marina.

Carta Marina.

Olaus Magnus

Rome 1539

     Constanza ran her fingers through his chest hair. Like a northern forest in late autumn, it was sprinkled with white. His beard showed winter too. But his frame was large. His body firm and manly, the blue green eyes cut from a glacier.

Here in Rome, in a crowd, he stood above the general run of men.

They were warm from lovemaking, the covers flung back.

     “What business do you have with the Pope?”

     “Bishop’s business,” he mumbled.

     “That’s not an answer. Is it about your map?”

     “Constanza why must you know everything?” He said, stroking her dark hair.

He ran his hand over her back feeling the smooth landscape of Italy under his fingers. The map was of a very different terrain.

Constanza had not told him yet her news; that she was pregnant and she knew it was a boy.

     “Your Holiness, Olaus Magnus is here “

     “Who?”

     “The Swede. Our exiled bishop of Uppsala.”

     “Oh yes.” Pope Paul recalled a tall burly bearded man, more of a Viking than a priest.

     “Show him in.”

     Pope Paul was concerned. The Reformation had sent this Swede here. One of his most loyal servants, a good earner of indulgences, pushed out by the Reformation, that like a slow plague was spreading all over northern Europe.

Pope Paul’s own conception of Europe beyond Germany was vague. The Pope had heard from the lips of others of frozen lakes, and endless forests. He had been given a white bear fur by Magnus when he first arrived. One of the Pope’s assistants had said it must be so cold there in the north that the bear had gone white with shock.

     Magnus had been in Rome for two years; to pass the time he had promised the Pope a map.

Olaus Magnus stood before him holding a large rolled scroll.

     “I have the map your Holiness.”

With a wave of his hand the Pope bade the Bishop proceed.

     It was huge; a patchwork of blue sea, and white land, etched onto vellum; it covered the enormous table. The sea was peopled with strange fearsome monsters and ships, the land drawn with rivers, towns and heraldic shields denoting countries.

The Pope marveled at its artistry. Magnus pointed out the different lands. Sweden, or Scandia, Denmark, the Orkney Islands the Shetlands, Iceland, the Baltic lands.

     The Pope had seen an ancient map by Ptolemy from the Roman period, but it was only of Britain and the Northern Isles.

His mind soon swung from wonder to immediate concerns.

     “Are all these lands now lost to us?”

    “Alas yes, your Holiness, the Reformation has taken deep root; gone are Sweden by 1537, Denmark, Northern Germany, England also by 1537. Many clergy like myself have been put off, the church lands seized by the crown or the new church. Many clergy now openly marry.”

     The Pope flinched. He had only just left the bed of his own mistress. Then he recalled that his spies had told him Magnus had a mistress too. So there, he had that in common with the giant Swede.

     “Only Ireland stands firm; there is trouble still in Scotland.”

     “How so?” Our Bishop in St Andrews has been diligent in suppressing Lutheran texts and preachers has he not? Not only burning books but men,” said the Pope, recalling the burning at the stake of a Scottish noble, Patrick Hamilton in St Andrews.

     “Yet I fear Lutheranism,” continued Magnus” is like the bramble, cut it back and it springs forth stronger than ever.”

     “Ireland faces another invader,” murmured the Pope, “the English. They suppress our worshippers cruelly.”

The audience over, Magnus rolled up his map and made to leave.

     “I hear you are to be a father.”

     “Your Holiness?”

     “I see she has not shared this with you yet.”

It did no harm to let your staff know that you watched them; it increased your hold.

     “Nevertheless, congratulations. Be assured we will find a place for the boy when he is grown.”

Rome April 1587 – 49 years later. Felippe Magnus

     Pope Sixtus the third has before him a mature man of medium stature. They are studying a map.