The Rose Demon

swelled and broke beneath him. He looked back along the deck: in the faint light of the lantern he glimpsed men sleeping in nooks, crannies and corners, their blankets pulled over them.

    ‘Matthias! Matthias!’ The voice was hollow like someone shouting down a funnel. ‘Listen now!’

    Matthias seized the rail, gripping it. Was he hearing the voice? Or was it in his own mind?

    ‘Listen now! Nothing to the north, nothing to the south! Due west! Due west! We shall meet again!’

    ‘Look!’

    Matthias broke from his reverie. On the deck men were stirring themselves, pointing up to the sky. A comet, a falling star, was soaring across the night sky. Members of the crew, Columbus and his officers, now joined Matthias on the foredeck.

    ‘What is it?’ someone asked.

    ‘A falling star,’ Escobedo replied.

    ‘A comet,’ another one observed.

    ‘It’s a sign!’ Columbus added, eager to seize any opportunity to vindicate himself. ‘It’s a sign from God! We shall not be disappointed!’

    ‘It’s like a rose, isn’t it?’ De Torres pointed up. ‘Look. There’s the flower and there’s the stem.’

    Matthias watched the sign and wondered about that mysterious voice repeating the course the ship was following.

    In the succeeding days, he realised how important that voice had been. The ships were now out on a sea that never ended, under a sky which yielded no recognisable horizon. On 19 September soundings were taken but, even with a 200 fathom line, no bottom was found. This drew dark looks but Columbus took comfort when two pelicans flew and rested on the ship’s mast, loudly declaring that such birds never fly far from land. The men reckoned that they had sailed far enough but still no land was in sight. They passed through a sea of weed, thick, greeny and slimy, which opened up before the ships then closed in around them.

    On 23 September the winds dropped and they became becalmed until a great swell rose to lift the hull, the winds picked up and they sailed on. Now and again, the lookouts, eager to claim the reward, their eyes constantly scouring the horizon, sometimes shouted they had seen land but this was proved to be a figment of their imagination. The crew now began to demand exactly how far they had travelled and, more importantly, how much further they were to go. The Pinzon brothers came across to the Santa Maria to pore over Columbus’ charts and engage in fierce debate. Columbus stuck to his original order: ‘West, west! There’ll be no deviation and,’ he added, ‘if we return empty-handed to Spain, every man will have to face the fury of our royal patrons, Ferdinand and Isabella.’

    The crew settled down. They forgot about the brackish water, weevil-ridden food, the stench of the ships, the sheer boredom and terror of such a long voyage. September passed. In October, however, the gloom deepened. Columbus had said that, on their voyage to Cathay and Cipango, they would pass the Island of the Blest discovered by the Irish saint and seafarer St Brendan. No island hove into sight. The men grumbled: if Columbus was wrong about the island couldn’t he be wrong about everything else?

    On 8 October birds were seen flying south-west. The crew insisted that Columbus changed direction. Gathered on the deck, the men shouted that if birds flew in such a direction towards land, should they not follow? The Pinzon brothers on the Niña and Pinta came across and supported these cries. A vote was taken. Only two people voted not to change direction: Columbus and Matthias.

    ‘Why not, Englishman?’ Columbus called.

    ‘Nothing to the north, nothing to the south,’ Matthias repeated the voice he had heard. ‘Ever west, Captain General. That was your order and we should keep to it.’

    Columbus smiled bleakly but the rest of the crew, led by the Pinzons, were insistent. The Santa Maria changed tack.

    That night the crew were comforted to hear more birds passing overhead. Four days later a look-out cried that he could see things in the water. A reed and a stick were picked up, as well as a piece of wood around which grass was wrapped. When these were brought aboard the excitement of the crew intensified, for the piece of wood looked as if it had been carved. The gloom lifted. The winds freshened. Escobedo announced that they were now travelling at 7 knots a day. Matthias was teased because he had been against the change in direction. One evening, just after sunset, Matthias was taking