The Flesh and the Devil (77 page)

         
The restless movements of his head had stilled, and as he
lay there, his head pillowed on his own brilliant hair that was still streaked
with dirt, his face with its strange bones and slanting shadows looked like a
funeral effigy cast in gleaming bronze. Juana reached tentative fingers to trace
the harsh line of his cheek, wanting to smooth away the tautness that had
dragged his skin so forbiddingly tight, and then gave a cry.

         
'Elisabeta.
Elisabeta
!'

         
'What is it?' Elisabeta came in at once, so quickly that
she must have been waiting outside the door for the summons. Juana held out her
hand, staring in disbelief at her own fingertips.

         
'He is sweating…I think the fever has broken, but I am not
sure…'

         
Her voice broke and she almost stumbled, clinging to the
wall while Elisabeta bent quickly over Tristán. As she saw the elder woman
cross herself her heart seemed to stop beating, but then Elisabeta turned to
her with a radiant smile, tears beginning to run down her cheeks.

         
'Yes, you are right. He is sleeping now, truly sleeping;
and with God‘s help he may recover.'

         
For an instant longer Juana remained motionless, her eyes
fixed on the man on the bed, and then she braced herself and straightened away
from the wall.

         
'You will care for him?' she asked urgently, and Elisabeta
nodded, puzzled.

         
'Of course I will, but you -'

         
Something about Juana‘s expression silenced what she had
been about to say. The girl‘s face was set determinedly, the look in her eyes
bleak, and the only trace of that first flash of joy was the faintly wistful
smile on her lips. 'I must go, then, and make my peace with Don Bautista,' she
said almost lightly. 'I will only bring danger to you all if I stay longer.'

         
Elisabeta gasped. 'But, Juana, Felipe needs you! Do you not
care what becomes of him?'

         
'Enough to want to live, and he will not if I stay hidden
and let the search go on,' Juana answered simply.

         
Her hands were trembling, and she did them, continuing
through an aching throat, 'If he should remember when he wakes that he saw me
there, tell him he dreamed.'

         
'Do you want him to think that you do not care for him?'

         
'It will not hurt him, or even surprise him.' Juana was
putting on her cloak as she spoke. 'He does not love me, nor ever did – This
marriage of ours has been a – a kind of fight. He married me to humble my pride
and I keep aloof to show him he has not succeeded.' The smile in her eyes was
wry. 'Now I have fallen in love with him and he still holds me in contempt. But
I had rather that than that he should love me and be grieved by my going, for
if I am to save him I must go now.'

         
She turned towards the door before Elisabeta could speak,
but as she did so she halted, frozen: both of them had heard the street door
flung open, and the tramp of feet in the next room.

         
Juana moved swiftly. She moved in front of the bed to stand
at bay like a trapped animal, her arms wide and her cloak outspread to hide the
bed and its occupant like a swan defending its cygnets. Elisabeta gripped her
arm hard, but her gaze did not waver from the door.

         
'I should have gone before' came, anguished, from between
her lips. 'I should have gone before!'

         
Elisabeta did not speak; she, like Juana, was counting the
sets of footsteps outside. Then all of a sudden the door was flung open to
reveal Luis, breathless and panting, leaning into the room as though he could
not spare the time to cross the threshold.

         
'It is all arranged, but you must go quickly, both of you!'
In her first flood of relief Juana could hardly understand what he was saying,
and when she did the words made no sense. 'Placido has sent a couple of his
drovers to help carry Felipe, and there is a cart waiting – you will have to
look after him as best you can.' His eyes met Juana‘s, direct and urgent in the
lugubrious mask of his face. 'It is the only way I can help you now.'

         
'Placido!' Elisabeta exclaimed. 'That old villain who runs
contraband on his mules? You promised me that you would have nothing more to do
with him!'

         
Juana said, 'Why should you help me? I have brought you nothing
but trouble since I came.'

         
He glanced past her at Elisabeta, hesitating before he
answered, and then said, 'You know why. Elisabeta will understand if you will
allow me to tell her after you have gone. You all deserve a better chance of
life than our worthy witchhunting mayor will allow you.'

         
Her hands crept protectively to her belly, and then she
gave a little wondering smile of such radiance that he blinked. 'Thank you,
Luis.' She kissed him; his lips were moist and gentle against hers. 'We shall
always remember you.'

         
'No time for that. I have brought some old clothes – begged
them from Enrique and his wife. Be quiet, Elisabeta – I said they were for a
charitable purpose, and my brother and Nieves are both too fat to wear these
things nowadays. Juana and Felipe cannot travel as they are. But keep that
gown, Juana, it may come in useful.'

         
He was already turning away, too hurriedly for Juana to ask
why. Instead she asked sharply, 'Who is Placido? And where will he take us?'

         
Luis was waving a couple of hefty men forward. 'He is a
friend of mine, a mule-driver, and his pack is leaving for Cadíz at sunset. He
has agreed to take you and Felipe in one of his supply-wagon and not to speak
of it, but he will not agree to feed you or tend Filipe, the old misanthrope.'
Juana could read in his rueful face that the price asked had been too high. 'If
you are found he will deny all knowledge of you, but if you are sensible you
will reach the coast safely. It mean scavenging and bartering, but you will do
it.'

         
There was an admiring glint in his eyes as they rested on
Juana, and she nodded matter-of-factly. She would contrive it because she must,
she thought.

         
'But Cadiz is a week‘s journey from here,' Elisabeta
protested, shocked.

         
'Why not send them south instead of west? It would be less
than half the distance, and with Felipe still sick -'

         
'I did not have a great choice, and they will be looked for
at the nearest ports,' Luis rejoined. 'Placido‘s mules will take ten days to
cover the distance, and no one would guess that fugitives might choose to
travel so slowly. Besides -' he was packing up food as he spoke, and added a
stone jar of wine to it without looking up - 'Felipe stands a better chance if
he is not moved too quickly.'

         
'It would take an army to move this Goliath at any speed,'
one of the two drovers grunted morosely.

         
They had swathed Tristán‘s limp body in a blanket and were
struggling to lift him, but it was only when Luis came to their aid that they
managed to lift him off the bed. They staggered out, the sick man sagging in
their grasp like a bale of cloth. Elisabeta followed them, giving advice that
none of them heeded, and after a few moments Luis returned, Juana stared at him
wordlessly, helpless in the face of so much disinterested kindness, while his
deft fingers resumed folding and packing, adding things to one neat bundle like
the practical merchant he was.

         
'This journey will be bad for Felipe‘s leg, but there is no
other way,' he said, almost conversationally. 'Try to stop him exerting himself
too soon, and give him as much food and care as you can – It will no be easy,
but you must do your best. Here is the wallet with your passage-money,' he
added in a lower voice. 'Open it when no one can see you, Placido and his men
are none of them rich, and if they see gold they may take it.'

         
Juana nodded, slipping the wallet under the folds of her
cloak. 'And when we come to Cadíz?'

         
'Then, God willing, you will be able to ask Felipe what do
to. He has not confided in me, so I cannot tell you what he intended.' Luis
kissed her suddenly on both checks. 'Write to us when you get to Cadíz –
Placido will bring back a letter, and we will pay. Do not let that old rogue
cheat you. Now, I shall leave you while you change your clothes, and then you
must get straight into the cart that is outside. Everything will be ready in
it, waiting for you. Do not stop to make any long farewells. Go with God.' He
turned away sharply and hurried out.

         
Tear were choking Juana as she changed hurriedly out of the
blue-and-gold gown and into Tia Nieves‘s donated garments, but she had no time
to shed them; it was only when she hurried out, the blue gown a tightly-rolled
bundle under her cloak, that they overflowed. Elisabeta, seeing them, evaded
Luis‘s restraining hand and darted towards her, catching her in her arms in a
return of her old maternal affection.

         
'So now you will take care of Felipe, eh?' she demanded
roughly. 'He needs you now, whether he loves you or not.
Adios
.'

         
Juana nodded and managed to mutter a swift goodbye. The
reassurance had almost broken her resolve, for now she knew that her husband
believed such ill of her that her heart fainted at the thought of the journey
ahead of them; he must hate her more than she had ever guessed, she thought, to
impute the cowardly attack to her device, to think her capable of such
cold-blooded ruthlessness.