Read The Last Song Online

Authors: Eva Wiseman

The Last Song (10 page)

BOOK: The Last Song
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Yussuf pulled on my sleeve. “Mistress, we must go!”

I barely heard him. “People are being burned alive!”

The stench of roasting flesh made me gag and I vomited. The Moor put his mighty arm around my shoulder and dragged me out of the plaza. He sat me down on the ground, under the shade of a tree. He wiped my face with the sleeve of his robe. He fanned me with his hands until the color returned to my cheeks.

“I am so sorry, young mistress.” He hung his head. “You shouldn’t have seen that. I didn’t know that an auto-de-fé was being held in the plaza today.” He beat his chest with his fists and moaned. “Ay! Ay! What have I done? My lady will never forgive me. The master will sell me to the galleys when he finds out what you’ve witnessed. I’ll never see my wife and son again! Don Enrique, may Allah bless his name, frees all of us slaves after we serve him loyally for ten years. I will look for my family as soon as I become a free man. If I am sent to the galleys, they’ll be forever lost to me!”

He looked so miserable that my heart filled with pity. “Don’t worry. My parents won’t blame you. I’ll make sure that they don’t. I’ll tell them that it wasn’t your fault. You aren’t the only one who didn’t know about the auto-de-fé. Mama couldn’t have known either
or she would never have agreed to my leaving the house with you.” I held out my hand and he helped me up. “Let’s go and buy the fruit. I want to go home.”

Mama took one look at my face and demanded to know what had happened.

I told her about the living nightmare we had witnessed. “Those poor people. Suffering so terribly! How can the Inquisition be so cruel as to burn them alive?” Even thinking about it made me feel queasy.

Mama patted my hand. “Hush!” she said. “You mustn’t criticize the Inquisition! Somebody might overhear you.”

“It wasn’t Yussuf’s fault that we went to the plaza. He didn’t know that an auto-de-fé was being held there.”

She sat down heavily. “Don’t worry about the Moor. I don’t blame him. I blame myself. I forgot all about the auto in the excitement of your father’s homecoming.” She fanned herself thoughtfully for a moment. “We wanted to spare you such sights and we were able to do so up to now because most autos are outside the city. Perhaps it’s good that you saw one and finally know what’s happening. The Inquisition has eyes and ears everywhere. You can’t trust anyone. No one is safe. Your
best friend today might turn out to be your worst enemy tomorrow.”

The shock was catching up with me. I felt myself sway.

“Isabel, you’ve been badly shaken. Go to your room and rest,” Mama said.

The table was set with heavy silver dishes that held delicacies of every kind. In the place of honor, in the center of the table, the little golden bird in its silver cage sang its silent song. We ate and ate and drank and drank until we couldn’t have eaten another morsel or drunk another drop of wine. Finally, it was time for me to receive my presents.

Brianda placed a package wrapped in fine white cloth in my hands. It contained the same delicate necklace that I had admired on our last visit.

“I can’t accept this.” I pushed it into her hands. “This is too fine a gift. I told you before.”

“It looks much better on you than on me. Please take it.” She handed it back to me.

“It’s yours, little one,” Tia Juana said, smiling. “Her father will buy her another necklace, one she likes better.”

“Even nicer than this one,” Diego de Alvarez said, smiling fondly at his daughter.

Brianda jumped up from her seat and put it around my neck. I ran my fingers over it. It was light as a feather against my skin.

“You look beautiful in it,” Brianda said.

Both Mama and Tia Juana nodded their approval.

Next, it was Luis’s turn. He held out a velvet pouch. In it was a gold bracelet studded with garish green stones as big as pebbles. He slipped it onto my wrist. It was so heavy that I felt I couldn’t lift my arm.
This is how the shackles of a galley slave must feel
, I said to myself. I lowered my eyes so that he wouldn’t guess my thoughts.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

“This magnificent bracelet shows Luis’s regard for you,” Papa said firmly. “You must tell him how much you like it.”

Mama kept her gaze on her hands, which were clenched together in her lap so tightly that her knuckles were white.

“Tell Luis how much you like the bracelet,” Papa repeated.

I looked up and forced myself to smile. “It’s a beautiful bracelet … very … regal!”

He nodded. “As it should be. Nothing but the best for my betrothed, soon to be my bride. May I reap my reward?”

I looked at Papa pleadingly. He suddenly became absorbed in his food. Mama was still as a statue. Luis leaned closer. Without waiting for my reply, he kissed me. I turned my head and his lips missed my mouth, landing on my cheek. His lips were cold against my face. Suddenly, I remembered the baby lizard wriggling under his heel in the rose garden and I shuddered. He drew back, his eyes glistening his fury.

Papa broke the awkward silence with a brisk clap of his hands. A tall, turbaned Moor entered the room. It was the slave who had accompanied Papa home from Granada. He was carrying a large package in his arms, and a square of crimson silk was draped on top. He put the package on the table in front of me, bowed, and backed out of the room.

“Remove the kerchief,” Papa said.

I pulled it off and found myself staring at a trembling, little lark with brown feathers.

“I remembered how much you liked this golden bird,” Papa said, pointing to Yonah’s masterpiece. “I bought you a live one!”

“Your father carried the little creature home all the way from Granada,” Mama added.

“It comes from the gardens of the Alhambra, from paradise on earth,” Papa said. “May your life be as pleasant as if you were living in paradise.”

I threw my arms around his neck. “Oh, Papa. Thank you! My own songbird. I love it!”

I put my finger through the bars of the cage and smoothed down the tiny bird’s feathers.

“Poor little creature,” I said softly, “you may live in a cage, away from your home, and you may be forced to sing your songs all alone, but you will be happy with me for I will take good care of you.”

The bird ruffled its feathers and burst into a song of such sweetness that I thought my heart would melt.

“What will you call it?” Mama asked.

I thought long and hard until its name became clear in my mind. “Its name is Anusim. It means ‘the forced one.’ ”

Papa gave me a sharp look.

“That’s a silly name for a bird,” Brianda said.

“I heard it from one of the servants … I can’t remember which one.” I kept my voice casual. “The name suits the bird. It’s forced to live in a cage and to sing its songs in captivity.” I stroked its feathers again. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll take good care of you.”

The night was as dark as ink. I could barely see farther than the tip of my nose. I dragged my hand along the side of the house as I made my way to the orange tree.
Yonah was waiting.

“I hoped that you could come.”

“The feast lasted forever. Afterward, Brianda wanted to talk. I had to wait until she fell asleep.” I sat down on the grass beside him. “How I wish that you could have been with us tonight.”

“I will be some day. And you will meet my father.” His tone was so sure.

“You believe that?”

“With all my heart. We must be patient.”

He took my hand and I lowered my head onto his shoulder.

“You’ll never guess what a wonderful present Papa gave me. He brought me a songbird all the way from the Alhambra. It is so beautiful and its voice is so sweet. Papa says that he bought it for me because he remembered how much I love the golden bird you made for me.”

“My father made it. I just helped.”

“Don’t be modest. The two of you made it together.” I squeezed his hand. “I named the songbird Anusim because it is forced to live in a cage and sing its songs in captivity.”

Yonah drew closer. “Let it go, Isabel. Let it be free.”

“I can’t! What would Papa say?”

“Tell him that you forgot to close the door of the cage and the bird flew away.”

“A falcon might capture it and devour it. I am afraid to free it.” I began to cry. “Why can’t you be happy for me? I love to hear it sing.”

I pressed his hand against my cheek and felt his fingers wiping away my tears.

“Don’t cry, Isabel. Your tears break my heart.”

The sweetness of his breath caressed my face.

“I have a gift for you, too,” he said.

For a moment, the moon appeared and I was able to see what he had given me. It was a small silver cup with intricate designs imprinted onto its surface.

“It’s a kiddush cup. We use it to hold the wine we drink to welcome the Sabbath,” Yonah explained.

“It’s beautiful!”

“I made it.”

Suddenly, the bushes rustled nearby.

Yonah got to his feet. “Who is there?” he called out.

There was no answer.

He pulled me up from the grass. “Go back to the house, Isabel! I’ll come with you.”

“No! It’s too risky.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and hurried me along the wall to a side door. We stopped there. For a fleeting moment I thought that I felt his lips brush my hair, but it was so dark that I couldn’t be sure.

“Go!” he whispered. “Go back to your bed.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“You must.”

“How will you get back into Toledo?”

“I won’t. At least not until the morning. I’ll catch some rest by the city gate. I won’t be the only one.”

I grabbed his arm. “When will I see you again?”

“I’ll send you a message.”

Then he was gone.

The house was silent as I crept up to my room, clutching the kiddush cup in my hand.
The noise in the bushes must have been an animal, most likely a badger
, I told myself. There was no one about, but candlelight was streaming out from beneath Mama’s chamber. I heard the soft murmur of voices. I slowed to listen but thought better of stopping. If there was something important to know, Mama and Papa would tell me.

I closed the door of my room quietly. I held up the kiddush cup in the near-darkness. I turned it around and around to admire the beautiful engravings on it. Where to hide it? I decided to put it into the drawer in my armoire where I kept my petticoats. I was sure that it would be safe because nobody except for Sofia ever looked there. I slipped it among my petticoats in the
half-open drawer, careful to smooth down the fine material on top of it.

I peeked at the bird asleep in its cage and climbed into bed. I tossed and turned, all kinds of thoughts crowding my head. What could my parents have been talking about? Did they have more secrets that I didn’t know about? I tried to lie still to allow the cricket song outside my window to lull me to sleep, but sleep didn’t come. I gave up and made my way down the quiet corridor to Mama’s chamber.

I could still see the sliver of candlelight below the door. And their voices continued to whisper their secrets. I knocked softly.

I heard Mama gasp. “Did you hear a noise outside?”

Papa laughed. “Catarina, you are allowing your imagination to rule your common sense. It’s probably Isabel.” He opened the door for me. Mama was sitting on the side of her bed and there was a chair facing her, where Papa must have been sitting.

“I can’t sleep, Papa.”

Mama called me to her. “Lie down here, dear.” She stood up and pulled the silk covers back. I slid into her bed and pulled the covers to my chin. She sat down at the foot of the bed, like she used to do when I was a little girl before telling me bedtime stories. I closed my
eyes, feeling suddenly childlike and safe. I must have dozed off for a moment, but soon I woke up and listened to my parents’ familiar voices again. I kept my eyes closed so they wouldn’t send me back to my room.

“You’re right, Enrique, but this news is so incredible that I am full of fear. Who would have ever imagined that their majesties are planning to expel the Jews from Sefarad?”

Expel the Jews? Yonah gone? I wanted to cry out, but I knew that my parents would send me back to my bed if they knew I was listening, so I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Why would the queen and the king treat the Jews so cruelly?” Mama asked. “The Jews of Sefarad have served the royal couple loyally – as did their parents and their parents before them. Don’t Isabel and Ferdinand realize what the Jews have done for them?”

“They must realize it. The Jews loaned them the money that helped them reconquer Spain. Now Isabel and Ferdinand have succeeded, and they don’t need the Jews’ money.”

“How did you hear this incredible news? Expelling all the Jews from the kingdom – it’s unbelievable!”

“Let me tell you what happened,” Papa answered. “I went to the throne room to bid their majesties goodbye the day before I was to come home. Of course I
had heard rumors, but I didn’t believe them for a moment.”

“What rumors?”

“That the queen and the king signed an Edict of Expulsion that orders the Jews to leave Spain by the last day of July. And anybody who made this news public, who revealed it before it was announced, especially to the Jews themselves, would be put to death. As I said, I didn’t believe a word of it at the time. The court is always full of false rumors.”

“What made you change your mind?” I could hear the sound of wine being poured into a goblet.

“I’ll never forget what I saw, what I heard.” Papa sighed. “I went to the throne room of the Alhambra. Their majesties were seated on their jeweled thrones under an alabaster latticed window. I was about to approach them when the entrance to the hall opened and the Jewish courtiers Isaac Abravanel, their majesties’ chief financial advisor, and old Rabbi Abraham Seneor, the judge of the Jews of Spain and the chief treasurer of the crown, were announced. I am certain that I must have told you before that Abravanel is their majesties’ most faithful servant.”

“Yes, you did say how loyal he was to Isabel and Ferdinand, how he used his own wealth to finance the Reconquista.”

“Not only that. He had recently negotiated with Christopher Columbus on their majesties’ behalf. Who knows what riches Columbus will bring to the kingdom when his ships sail? Rabbi Seneor is no less a friend to the royal couple than Abravanel. He was instrumental in arranging their marriage many years ago. He remained steadfast and loyal during the dark days of the civil war. He is the head of the hermandad, the police. When the queen and the king saw their old friends approaching, they smiled.”

BOOK: The Last Song
10.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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