by K. T. Tomb
―Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
Walking through the halls of the Mezquita de Cordoba with Tacho, it was becoming increasingly difficult for Chyna to concentrate on what he was saying as she reveled in the beauty of the red and white columns inside and topping the building in all their double arched glory.
“You like?” Tacho smiled at her.
He began telling her how the church and the mosque had come to be, clearly not ready, as yet, to disclose whatever information he had gathered and intended to regale her with. Patiently, Chyna decided to let the little man get what he had to say off his chest without pressing him.
“It is one of the most accomplished structures ever built by the Moors. It was originally a cathedral, but after the Visigoths were defeated by the Muslims, it was divided between them and the Christians. There used to be a temple here earlier, dedicated to the two faced Roman God, Janus, but the exiled prince Abd al-Rahman, who wanted to build something that would rival the mosques in Jerusalem, Baghdad and other places, decided that a mosque should be built on this very spot. He bought the site from the people of Cordoba, whom he had conquered after defeating Yusuf Al-Fahiri, the governor of Al-Andalus. The church in the middle is dedicated to St. Faustus, St. Januarius and St. Marcellus.” Villanueva puffed out his chest a little as he spoke, either through his body requiring more oxygen to keep his speech going or through pride at the constructive endeavors of his people.
“The construction is said to have been started in 784 A.D. and spanned over a period of two centuries, carried on by al-Rahman’s descendants after his death. Rahman named the mosque after his wife. Do you know one of the most unusual things about this mosque? The mihrab in this place faces south. Conventionally, Muslims pray facing toward Mecca, which lies east-southeast of the Mezquita. Mihrabs of mosques all over the world face Mecca, but not the one in the Mezquita.
“The work itself, you can see, Ms. Stone, is exquisite. Emperors made numerous changes to the plan. Metals were dug out and imported from all over the world, and hard stone and marbles were brought in from Sierra Morena. There is a distinct Gothic style evident in the building, and ivory, gold, brass, jasper and many other metals have been used in the decoration. These panels that you see are made of scented wood and have been fastened with nails of pure gold. The red columns that we are walking beneath are said to be the work of God himself. The Mezquita truly is a dazzling, amazing building, Miss Stone.”
As he wound up his history of the Mezquita de Cordoba, Chyna could hear Tacho’s voice laced with reverence. He was clearly passionate about history, and deeply affected by the threads that bound two very different religions together in such a marvelous place. Who could bear to not like it? Chyna looked over to her team, who were roaming listlessly through the pillars.
“Yes, you’re right. It is an amazing building,” Chyna agreed. “It’s too bad, though, given all of what has been happening lately,” she commented, subtly steering the conversation toward more contemporary matters.
“Not for the tourism companies, it seems. They are making a mockery out of it, using it to attract customers.” Tacho snorted, handing her one of the most popular pamphlets used by the local tour companies.
“They could attract much more than just customers.” The words were out of Chyna’s mouth before she could help it, and she groaned at having given away important information. She looked down at the paper in her hand and feigned interest in the words on it. But Tacho only nodded a response.
“Exactly my sentiments,” Tacho said after some moments, sad at the state of affairs. “Anyway, I brought you in here to talk about the investigation.”
“Yes, what do you know about this whole thing?” Chyna was interested in what the man had to say.
“I have been on this case from the start. My newspaper, in fact, was one of the first to encounter the happenings and report a pattern among them. There has been no proof or conclusions yet drawn as to how this started, but the afflicted people gradually turn mad over a period of time. During this time, they have reported of hallucinations of a religious nature and claim that God has been speaking to them.
“The first incident was in Valencia. Seven people went mad over a period of two weeks. Then it was Abacete, where nine people had to be admitted into a mental institution. Six people from Granada and four from Cordoba, including the three we saw today. I have been observing all of the cases for a while now, and I can tell you that the afflicted people are somehow drawn to places of religious influence all across the country; cathedrals and mosques to be specific. You saw those three in the square. There haven’t been any other known cases, other than the ones I already mentioned, but I’m not really sure of the time frame. For all we know, it could be moving on.” Tacho shook his head. Clearly, he was frustrated at the broken links.
“I could have an explanation.”
Chyna knew she shouldn’t, but she decided to share her theory about the rosary with him and see what came from it. For all she knew, he could have detected an anomaly that could lead them to the rosary and to the bottom of the whole matter.
“Are you serious?” Tacho’s eyes lit up, and he leaned in to hear what Chyna was about to say.
“Have you heard about the Rosary of Isabella?” Chyna asked him, and was less than pleased at his reaction. His peaked ears dropped, as did his shoulders. Disappointment shrouded his features.
“I thought about that at first; everybody who has an interest in Spanish history knows of Isabella, but there seems to be nothing to it. There is not even concrete proof that the rosary actually existed. It’s just a legend.” He shrugged. “I think perhaps what we are witnessing is some kind of hysteria, or occultism.”
“You’re not me, though, no offense.” Chyna held her hands up. “My team picked up on the same things you did: religious visions, hallucinations, growing madness and so on. I put that together that with my theory about Isabella of Spain. Although that rosary never drove her to the point of madness, it is known that she was deeply religious. It is also said that only her direct descendants could wear the rosary, that is, those she shared blood with. All the others would not be able to handle its virtue, and go entirely mad.”
“You make some strong points, Chyna, but that doesn’t eliminate the fact that the rosary is supposed to be a myth. I mean, I live in Spain, I have a great interest in our historical past, and even I have never encountered proof of the rosary ever existing. And even if Isabella did have such a rosary, all those who were not her direct descendants could be experiencing the placebo effect. If it was as famous as you say, people must have known what it would do to them. They must have been under the thought that the rosary could have adverse effects. Maybe that was what drove them mad: the impression that they could go mad,” Tacho countered.
“Yes, but that was then. That was at a time when she was still alive, as were her descendants. How many people do you think know about the rosary now? You said so yourself: you’re Spanish, and even you have doubts about its existence. In that case, how could all those people who went mad have known about the rosary? They had to be admitted to mental institutions nevertheless. If there is a cognitive bias involved, it is one that has skipped centuries to manifest itself now. Why?” Chyna said.
Tacho looked like he was considering her theory, though still not fully believing it. A deep frown was fixed upon his face when he spoke, putting into audible words a question Chyna had been trying to work out in her mind. “So, If we accept that, for now, the rosary is real, what next?”
She shrugged. “We will investigate some more. We need to find someone who can confirm whether the insanity is caused by the rosary as I suspect, or refute it; at which point, my interest in the case will end. What about you?”
“I am actually headed into Granada later today. I want to look into what has happened there. I was going to ask you whether you would be interested in coming along, but that would be a facetious question at this point. I think witnesses and v
ictims will give you much more solid information than museums or the local police.”
Chyna considered his invitation. Tacho had made a strong point. If the rosary was on the move through Spain, then someone must have seen or heard something about it. As the events had only recent occurred in Cordoba, she knew there would not be much more there to look into, at least until the afflicted parties had been either booked into an asylum or released by the local police. Excusing herself from Tacho, Chyna called the team together. She explained what Tacho had said and what she thought about it. When she put forward the idea of going to Granada, everyone readily agreed.
“Okay, Tacho.” Chyna approached the reporter after five minutes. “We’ll go with you.”
Chyna didn’t even realize that she was still holding the pamphlet he had given her in her right hand.
Chapter Eight
Queen Isabella of Castile and Leon (1451-1504)
QUEEN ISABELLA, surnamed la Catolica “the Catholic,” Queen of Castile, was the second child and only daughter of John II of Castile by his second wife Isabella, granddaughter of John I of Portugal (thus being through both parents a descendant of John of Gaunt), and was born in Madrigal on the 22nd of April 1451. On the death of her father, who was succeeded by her brother Henry IV (1454), she was withdrawn by her mother to Arevalo, where her early education was conducted in the deepest seclusion; in 1462, however, along with her uterine brother Alphonso, she was removed by Henry to the court, where she showed a remarkable example of staidness and sobriety.
Already more than one suitor had made application for her hand, Ferdinand of Aragon, who ultimately became her husband, being among the number; for some little time she was engaged to his elder brother Charles, who died in 1461. However, in the face of very great difficulties, she was married to Ferdinand of Aragon at Valladolid on the 19th of October 1469. Thence forward the fortunes of Ferdinand and Isabella were inseparably blended. For some time they held a humble court at Duenas, and afterwards they resided at Segovia, where, on the death of Henry, she was proclaimed Queen of Castile and Leon on December 13, 1474.
Spain undoubtedly owed to Isabella’s clear intellect, resolute energy and unselfish patriotism much of that greatness which for the first time it acquired under “the Catholic sovereigns.” The moral influence of the queen’s personal character over the Castilian court was incalculably great; from the debasement and degradation of the preceding reign she raised it to being “the nursery of virtue and of generous ambition.” She did much for Spain by founding the palace school and by her protection of Peter Martyr d’Anghiera. The very sincerity of her piety and strength of her religious convictions led her more than once, however, into great errors of state policy, and into more than one act which offends the moral sense of a more refined age; her efforts for the introduction of the Inquisition into Castile, and for the proscription of the Jews, are outstanding evidences of what can only be called her bigotry.
But not even that briefest sketch of her life can omit to notice that happy instinct or intuition which led her, when all others had heard with incredulity the scheme of Columbus, to recall the wanderer to her presence with the words, “I will assume the undertaking for my own crown of Castile, and am ready to pawn my jewels to defray the expenses of it, if the funds in the treasury should be found inadequate.”
She died at Medina del Campo on the 24th of November 1504, and was succeeded by her daughter Joanna “La Ilca” (the “mad”) and her husband, Philip of Habsburg.
The sun was setting by the time they exited Cordoba. The city was far gone behind them, as were the clustered streets and concrete houses. The narrow roads gave way to winding paths, and the flanking stone structures were replaced by rolling fields and grasslands painted orange by the sun’s slanting rays.
After some consideration, they had chosen to ditch their car at the hotel and ride with Tacho in his minivan. Chyna wanted to fill everyone in on her conversation with Tacho and didn’t want to waste time by explaining it a second time. She explained the entire conversation in detail as well as the theory she had about the rosary being moved around throughout the country, which in turn was causing the madness to move.
Following her briefing, plans regarding the best course of action were immediately underway. Oscar was sure that, with Tacho’s assistance, they would be able to talk to some of the people close to the victims, thus providing them a great deal of help in solving their riddle.
“What good would it do, talking to the victims? I mean, they’re not going to make any sense, right?” he ventured.
“Maybe, maybe not, but we might be able to find some clues as to how it started,” Chyna replied.
“I’m beginning to think that these people have to have something in common. Considering your theory is true, and the rosary is being moved around the country, I doubt that such a precious… Dios Mio!”
Whatever Tacho had started to say came to an abrupt halt as he swerved the car from its path and brought it to a screeching halt. The brakes whined and tires smoked. He didn’t wait to explain, just opened the door and ran out, leaving the engine still running.
“Tacho! Tacho!” Chyna called out, leaning over the console to see what was wrong.
“Chyna!” It was Lana’s voice that made her shoot straight up. “Look!”
And she did. The Found History team piled out of the car in Tacho’s wake, only to be met by the journalist standing over something in the middle of the road, near the curve they had just come around.
Dead bodies: three dressed exactly the same from what she could tell, with hessian sacks over their heads and blood pooling beneath them.
Foreboding came over Chyna as she walked toward Tacho, with Oscar and Mark in tow. From the sound of their shuffling feet, Chyna could tell that both drawing weapons. The orange traces of the Spanish sun were gone, and there was little light on the road, save the dim glow of the spare lamp. With cautious footsteps, she reached the bodies and didn’t need any additional clues to know exactly who they were.
“It’s them,” Oscar muttered. “It’s those three from the Mezquita.”
The team didn’t know what had happened to them after they had been carted off, but judging by the looks of things, it hadn’t ended very well. There were rope marks on the hands and legs of all three victims, and multiple bullet wounds in each. Clearly, they had not enjoyed an easy death.
Chyna felt sick to her core. Mark knelt unsteadily on his less injured knee and drew back the sack on one corpse.
“Double taps,” he said, “two to the chest, one to the head. Looks like powder burns on the clothing too. These guys were executed with extreme prejudice. Usually one bullet to the head is enough for most killers, but it’s not unheard of that people survive. These poor bastards had no chance.”
There was the incongruous sound of a cell phone ringing, which, to Chyna, felt the same as if it had just gone off at a funeral. Tacho swore and answered the device, which he drew from his jacket pocket, speaking in rapid Spanish. When the call ended he spoke with excitement, tempered with fear.
“That was a call from my boss. He just told me that there has been another incident, another reported case, just north of Barcelona. The victim is suffering from the same symptoms that these three were.”
Chyna could only nod, and was surprised at that the seeming lack of direction she felt. She had always been a brave woman, able to stomach more than what normal people could. It was uncharacteristic of her to be shocked by the presence of dead bodies. Maybe it was the way they had been murdered, their sheer bad luck or something else lingering in her mind.
Was it the fact that Chyna knew she also could have been a discarded corpse in a remote cathedral in Dresden only a few months before.
Chapter Nine
RSS feed. Lana Ambrose, 2014
Civil Unrest: In 1481, Isabella and Fernando set out to do what no other monarch had done. The Moors, Jewish and Muslim people from North Africa, had settled in the Iberian penins
ula in the 8th century A.D. Being devout Catholics, Isabella and Fernando led the Reconquista, the Reconquest, to take the land from the Moors, known as Granada. Isabella planned and funded campaigns, even selling her jewels, while Fernando led the troops. One by one, the Moorish lands were added onto Castile y Leon. In January of 1492, the Reconquista was complete.
Before the team and their journalist ally could move on to Barcelona, there had been a long wait alongside the road as identifications and statements were taken by the local police.
All three bodies were identified as the last three victims of the madness from Cordoba. The initial inclination of the garda civil had been to take all of Found History along with Tacho back to Cordoba to make statements and for further questioning given the violent nature of the crimes. Fortunately for them, Tacho proved to be an excellent negotiator, and evidently knew the sergeant who took their statements on a personal level and they were soon north bound once again.
As Chyna sat in the front passenger seat with Tacho by her side, her mind was a maelstrom of emotions and logic in a constant war with each other. She had a growing suspicion of Tony being the mastermind behind the whole scheme, which made her plan infinitely more difficult than it already was. If he was truly controlling the sequence of events, it meant that he was already in possession of the rosary. Why was the rosary being moved? More to the point, was it being tested? Could it be Tony carrying out such tests?
The catch, however, was that Chyna was slowly starting to believe Tacho’s theory as well. Even though Lana had found the links between Isabella and the Inquisition, there had been no mention of a rosary anywhere. While waiting for the police to release them, Sirita had called up the national museums dedicated to Spanish history and found out that none of them had ever been in possession of a 16th century rosary of any kind, particularly one that might have been related to Isabella. For an item that was wreaking havoc all over Spain, the Rosary of Isabella was certainly hard to find.