Read The Last Song Online

Authors: Eva Wiseman

The Last Song (14 page)

BOOK: The Last Song
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Luis greeted us awkwardly. “I came to say good-bye.”

Mama pointed to the animals. “What is the meaning of this? Where are you going?”

Luis’s face turned crimson. “I received word from my father that he needs me at my home.” He mounted one of the horses and with a curt nod galloped off.
His servant set off after him, pulling the mule behind him.

“Good riddance!” Mama said.

I agreed wholeheartedly.

C
HAPTER 13
 
T
UESDAY
, J
ULY 3, 1492 –
W
EDNESDAY
, J
ULY 4, 1492

M
ama and I were panting as we followed Yussuf up the steep hill leading to the alcazar. The palace served both as the headquarters of the Inquisition and as Fray Torquemada’s residence when he visited Toledo. Candlelight flickered through the windows on the second floor and we could hear the lilting music of harps and tinkling laughter.

“The Grand Inquisitor must be entertaining tonight,” I whispered to Yussuf.

“Lucky for us. The noise made by the friar’s guests will cover any noise we might make. It will distract the guards.”

We followed the Moor along a lane running next to the stone wall of the palace. It was as dark as pitch. Black clouds obscured the moon’s cold light. The
ground was uneven, and Mama stumbled. I caught her arm.

“Hold on! We’re almost there,” Yussuf whispered.

We finally arrived at a wooden gate half-hidden by tall cypress bushes. The Moor knocked on the door three times. It swung open. A disembodied face appeared and floated toward me in the darkness. I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle a scream.

“Come in,” the head said. It floated even closer.

Only then did I see the rest of him – the body of a familiar dressed in black clothes. I saw the exchange of coins Yussuf had asked for before we left.

“Follow me,” the man said.

I held on tight to Mama’s arm as the familiar led us across the courtyard to a door leading into the alcazar. We followed right behind him as he descended a slippery, worn stone staircase dimly lit by torches on the wall. He stopped in front of a rusty, studded iron door and unlocked it with one of the keys hanging on his belt.

“Five minutes,” he said. “That’s all you have.”

He pushed us through the doorway and then he was gone. The three of us found ourselves in a dark, dank cave full of shadows. A barred window high up on the wall afforded the tiniest bit of light to go by. I almost gagged at the overwhelming stench of blood
and excrement. I lifted the hem of my skirt to keep it out of the disgusting, thick sludge that covered the floor. Lying on filthy straw, spectral creatures were chained to the wall. One wild-eyed man dressed in rags, his face streaked with blood, moaned piteously. A pregnant woman, her hands clasped over her swollen belly, lay beside him. I looked away from her nakedness. Many of the prisoners had no clothes. Some were unmoving, silent as ghosts. Others were crying in desperation. A woman held out her arms toward me but did not utter a single word. The clanging of the prisoners’ chains echoed off the stone walls.

“Dear God,” Mama said, “where is your father?”

Suddenly, a cry. “Catarina! Isabel! Is it you?”

The voice came from a man chained to the wall beneath the window. I examined his grimy features, snowy hair, and scraggly beard. Rags covered his gaunt body. I was sure that I had never seen him before. Mama ran up to him and embraced him.

“Stop, Mama! Have you lost your mind?” I tried to pull her away from him.

“Daughter, don’t you know your own father?” he asked.

The voice was Papa’s voice. Could it be? I stepped closer. A feeble ray of moonlight lit the man’s face. Papa’s thick black hair had turned completely white. He
had become an old man in just a few weeks, but he was my father. I fell to my knees and kissed his hand. Yussuf kneeled and kissed his feet.

“What have they done to you, my Enrique?” Mama asked.

“Master! May Allah be blessed. We found you alive!” Yussuf said.

“Have you lost your minds to come here?” Papa’s voice still held his old authority. “Don’t you know what could happen to you?”

“I don’t care,” Mama said, smoothing his face.

“We want to talk to you,” I whispered. “I can’t convince Mama that I must speak to the Grand Inquisitor to free you.”

“I will not have her put herself in such terrible danger.” Mama said.

I crouched as close to Papa as I could because I didn’t want the other prisoners to overhear us. “There is nothing else we can do.” I told him how Luis rejected my pleas for help. I described the closed doors of Tia Juana’s house. “You see? I must go to Torquemada and ask him to release you from prison.”

Papa opened his mouth to reply but coughed instead. When he wiped his mouth, I saw blood.

“I’m afraid the danger is probably upon you already. We have nothing to lose. I cannot last much longer
here,” he said. “God, forgive me, but I agree to your plan, daughter. Go see Torquemada.”

“I will go with you, Isabel,” Mama said.

“No. I must go by myself. He is more likely to listen to me if there are no witnesses present.”

“Then I’ll talk to him!” Mama cried. “I don’t want you to go. It’s too dangerous.”

I tried to calm her down. “We can decide later which one of us will see the Grand Inquisitor.”

“Don’t fool yourselves,” Papa said. “Torquemada might arrest you on the spot.”

“He won’t, Papa. As long as I don’t give him his grandmother’s letter, he won’t harm me. I’ll tell him that the letter is hidden in a safe place. I’ll be respectful but firm.”

“Isabel,” Mama said, “I will be the one to see …”

Papa tried to stand up, but he sank to his knees. Mama reached for him, but he held up his hand.

“They had me on the rack. My legs … it’ll take time … never mind that now. Tell the Grand Inquisitor how delighted you were to discover that he was a kin and a New Christian like your papa.”

“I’ll tell him that putting you into prison was a mistake. I’ll ask him to set you free.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “Do you realize that talking to him may cost you your life? Are you willing
to take such a chance?”

I spoke quickly to forestall Mama from interrupting me. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t bear this. I miss you.”

Papa leaned forward and kissed my cheek, then Mama’s face. “I have the best wife and daughter in the world. It’s not too late to change your minds.”

“I don’t intend to,” Mama said.

“Neither do I,” I told him.

I started silently plotting how I could arrange an interview with the Grand Inquisitor without Mama finding out.

Papa’s whispered voice was urgent. “All right, but be careful. Tell Torquemada that his refusal to help a relative hurts you deeply. Explain to him that he leaves you no choice but to show the letter to the queen and to the king. Tell him that you are certain that their Catholic majesties hold him in such high regard that they will not allow his kinsman to go to the stake.” The words had taken all his energy. His head fell to his chest. “I am tired,” he muttered. “I cannot talk anymore.”

I grabbed his hands. “Don’t lose hope, Papa. I will make sure that the Grand Inquisitor listens. There is nothing he wants less than to have his Converso origins made public.”

“Mama, please!”

“You must go before they find you here,” Papa said.

We bid him a sad farewell.

“You’ll be home before you know it, my dear husband.”

Mama’s soothing words did nothing to reassure me. I was not sure that Papa had even heard them.

Mama dismissed Yussuf as soon as we came through the front door. When the Moor left, she turned on me.

“How can you imagine that I would allow you to go to the Grand Inquisitor?” she shouted. “But Mama …”

She shook her head. “No more arguments. Not now. I am weary. I must lie down. We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said as she mounted the stairs.

I waited for a few moments until I was sure that she was in her room. Then I went into the garden, got a shovel from the shed, and headed toward the orange tree. I began to dig. It took me a long time because the packed earth was still dry and hard. I was hot and sweaty by the time the shovel hit the top of the iron chest with a clunk. I lifted out the chest and carefully filled the hole up with the loose dirt. I took the chest back to my room.

I rang for Sofia to bring me a bottle of ink and a quill. I made a faithful copy of the letter. I hid the
original letter in my jewelry box and then locked the box. I put it back into my armoire and hid the key in the vase. I hid the empty iron chest under my bed and put the copy of the letter under my pillow. I decided that I would ask Yussuf to take the chest away tomorrow.

C
HAPTER 14
 
T
HURSDAY
, J
ULY 5, 1492

I
knew Mama was exhausted and would be sleeping soundly. At the first light of dawn, I was able to tiptoe out of the house without waking her. The slaves carried me in the litter to the alcazar and lowered it to the ground. I peeked out through a slit in the drapery. A dozen of the Inquisition’s armed guards were stationed in front of the palace. Yussuf, who had followed me on foot, parted the curtains and stuck his head inside.

“What do you want me to do, my lady?”

“Tell the captain of the guards that I seek an audience with his excellency, Tomás de Torquemada.” I slipped a few maravedis into his palm. “Sweeten your request with these coins.”

The Moor approached the guards. He was too far away for me to hear what he was saying, but I saw one
of them point to a man standing apart from the group.

Yussuf bowed before the captain and said something to him. The man shook his head. Yussuf nodded in my direction, and I watched as once again he discreetly paid a bribe.

The Moor came back to the litter smiling.

“It’s arranged, young mistress. The power of money never fails. The captain of the guards will escort us inside,” he said as he helped me out of the litter.

We followed the captain into the alcazar. I patted my chest through the crimson cloak that covered my dress. With my finger I traced the outline of the copy of my great-grandmother Miriam’s letter, which I had pinned to the lining of the cloak. It made me feel a little less afraid.
Both Yonah and I have badges now
, I told myself.
The only difference is that nobody can see mine
.

The guard led us into a large hall with a stone floor. Rich tapestries depicting the twelve apostles and Christ on the cross, wearing a crown of thorns, covered the walls. The hall was unfurnished except for a carved bench. A wooden staircase rose in the center of the room.

“Wait here,” the captain said before disappearing through a heavy door set into the wall. We waited and waited, hour after hour, but he did not return. I spent the time rehearsing in my mind what I would say to
the Grand Inquisitor, while Yussuf watched on. I was thirsty and my legs were cramping, but I did not care how long I had to wait. The memory of Papa’s haunted eyes gave me strength.

“Mistress, perhaps we should go home,” Yussuf said.

“Not until I talk to the Grand Inquisitor.”

He shook his head but didn’t argue.

Finally, the door swung open. A tall, heavy-set Dominican monk came into the hall. The captain was behind him. I curtsied as the monk approached me.

“What are you doing here?” He turned to the captain. “I told you to send them home.”

The captain hung his head.

“Father, I must see his excellency, Fray Torquemada,” I said. “It’s a question of life and death.”

“It always is,” the monk said in a chilly tone. “You’ve been waiting all this time?”

“Yes, Father. I beseech you to tell his grace that Doña Isabel de Cardosa, the daughter of Enrique de Cardosa, their majesties’ physician, requests an audience with him.”

The monk’s face grew less frosty and he dismissed the captain with a wave of his hand. “I am Fray Armand of Pensacola. I am his grace’s secretary. His grace is not granting audiences today. He is occupied with
holy business. Come back another day, Doña Isabel.”

BOOK: The Last Song
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