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

be dangerous and quite cold.” Then he giggled and walked away.
    â€œMy shoes,” Richard said, almost as if in mourning.
    â€œI will help you get them in the morning when it is light,” said Nat.
    â€œMy shoes are leather, and there are more vermin down there than anywhere else on this ship,” said Richard. His voice was shaky. “If I wait until tomorrow, they will be chewed to scraps. I will go down now. I have no choice.”
    â€œWe do not have a lantern, Richard. If I try to borrow one from a gentleman, he will say I am stealing, you know it. Stealing will have me whipped and then tossed overboard.”
    â€œAll I need is rope. I think the shoes went straight down, so if I go straight down, too, I should find them without too much trouble.”
    Nat nodded reluctantly. He went to the ladder and found a length of rope coiled on a nail on its side. He tied one end around the bottom rung of the ladder, then took the length to Richard. All around, men flopped over on their mattresses in various stages of sleep, snoring, burping, farting. Richard grasped the rope, whispered, “God help me, I never wanted to go down into that dreadful place,” and lowered himself into the hold.
    Nat could imagine what was down there with Richard—water snakes swimming in standing water, enormous rats grown fat and vicious with constant feeding on the men’s food supplies and an occasional caged chicken. He shivered and gooseflesh stood up on his arms and neck.
    â€œI’ve never smelled such foul odors,” Richard called up.
    â€œShh! Get the shoes quickly. I’ll pull you back up.”
    There was silence for a few moments, then the sound of Richard swearing as he rummaged below, feeling for the shoes. All around Nat, the men began snoring once more.
    Hurry! Get out of that wretched place!
    Nat leaned over a bit farther, straining to hear, hoping Richard would not be bit by something poisonous.
    And then there was a shrill giggle immediately behind Nat and something struck him between his shoulder blades and he was tumbling headlong into the rancid darkness of the hold. He landed on his side with an “umph!” His left arm was twisted beneath him, and hot, stabbing pains shot through it.
    A voice very near him said, “Nat! Is that you?”
    Nat croaked, “Samuel knocked me down into this place!”
    â€œThe cursed brat!”
    Nat got his feet beneath him and stood dizzily. The flooring was as he feared, slimy and damp and uneven. The smell down here was worse than he could have imagined. It was like sticking his head into a waste bucket full of excrement.
    â€œAre you all right? Did you break anything?”
    Nat moved his left arm and gritted his teeth against sparkles of pain that traveled the length of it. “I think not. My arm can move, but it hurts dreadfully. God! I cannot have a broken arm. How would I survive the rest of the journey with a broken arm?”
    â€œYou can move it truly?” asked Richard.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThen it is not broken. Perhaps bruised or sprained.”
    â€œYes,” said Nat. Then he heard a hissing sound, and the chickens nearby squawked.
    â€œSnakes, Nathaniel!” cried Richard.
    â€œNo, I don’t think so.”
    â€œOr huge, rabid rats like the dog back in London. We cannot see them before they bite us on the legs!”
    â€œRichard, the hissing sound is only water running in the bilge. Be calm or you will only make matters worse.”
    â€œHow can they be worse?”
    There was a pause, and Nat said, “At this moment, I do not really know.” Then, “Did you find your shoes?”
    â€œI found one of them.”
    â€œWe have to find the other, then we must get out of here straightaway.”
    Then Richard said, “How?”
    â€œHow? What do you mean?”
    â€œYou have a hurt arm. How will you get out of here?”
    â€œI…,” Nat began. But Richard