La Gitana

by Carol Ann

  86

  “Who does the Queen wish me to serve Herself or our Divine Lord.”

  “Gypsy, you are clever. You know whom We wish you to serve.” And I did know and had to smile. Marie Luisa was no fool. Then she asked me about my rapist and I told her everything, having an excellent memory. She replied that she believed she had such a man in her jail, a murderer and a thief. She was willing to let me see him for future favors I would do her and just what did I require of her. I told her a long serrated blade and a doctor standing by.

  She laughed and said, “A more sorrowful man We shall never know. If he’s your man, his name is Benecio De la Playa.”

  “You are right, my Queen. Does the Bible not say, “An eye for an eye: a tooth for a tooth. I shall take something from him equivalent to what he took from me.” The Queen laughed. “We shall make it a point to stay far from your bad side, gypsy.”

  “The Queen never need worry. I am Her loyal servant in all things.” I was led to the dungeon and the light of good shined from some poor faces and I resolved to help them. Then the rank smell of unwashed bodies, rotten food and human excrement assaulted my nostrils. The light was like that of dusk before the sun drops from the sky. At first he did not recognize me and he was filled with joy as I told him I was the Queen’s abogado (lawyer) come to investigate the false charges against him. His eyes filled with grateful tears yet he was afraid at first to name his supposed crimes. I told him his accusers would be punished and imprisoned themselves. This loosened his tongue considerably. He named all his crimes rapidly and with some trepidation.

  87

  I told him I thought he may have forgotten about one and pulled up my shirt to show him the word, “puta” carved into my left side.

  “Do you remember the rape of a gypsy girl in Sacro Monte about a year ago.

  Actually less than a year, ten months ago. Benecio, you have a son.” His eyes got wide and he remembered.

  “I, as a Spaniard have the right to kill a gypsy on sight as a public nuisance, You are lucky I did not kill you. Besides you got some pleasure from it. I am sure. Don’t forget I am the father of your son.”

  I laughed. “You certainly don’t know how to improve your situation do you? Do you know De la Playa is a noble name, a fine family. I’m wondering do you know the coat of arms of this family, your relatives no doubt. I bet you don’t know,” I said showing him my knife. “Guard strip him and tie him to this chair.”

  “The coat of arms is a rearing horse in front of some clouds. I think it fitting that I carve it into your chest. Do you agree. Nobility must stick together.” He screamed while I did it sparing no flourish. “Do you still think I’m the Whore of Babylon?”

  I paused after I finished. He was shivering and crying. I wiped his brow gently.

  “That wasn’t so bad was it. See, now you’re a noble. Guards untie this man’s wrist and place him up against a cool wall.” Then I went over and kissed him tenderly and said, “You’re right, Benecio, I did feel some pleasure. You make love really well.” Then I brought my knife down and severed his cock from his body.

  88

  I motioned for the doctor to attend him as I am not a murderess. After that I settled into my comfortable quarters and put my poor, unloved baby to bed. My new life had begun.

  89

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  When I woke up the light was streaming through the stain glass window, a representation of the Madonna and Christ child, an irony that was not lost on me. Red velvet curtains secured with lace sashes graced the windows, and I was laying in a huge canopied oak bed strewn with ornate pillows. Portraits of deceased Hapsburg rulers lined the brocade walls and a tapestry of a hunter cradling a dead fawn hung on the main wall.

  I thought it strange to see a compassionate murderer. Perhaps it was a gadje myth. The floor was black marble covered at points by rugs from the Orient. Silver wall sconces adorned the walls and the candles gave out aromatic floral scents. The light in the room had a pinkish tint which soothed my tired spirit. Antonio was sleeping soundly in his ornately carved crib. He wore a long lace gown which contrasted with his dark complexion. In repose he looked like an ugly little cupid. I gently picked him up pressing his small body into my breasts. He stirred and began to feed and I felt the familiar wrenching pressure yet I was glad he was so robust. I sorrowed that I could not love him yet.

  A knock on the door and a servant girl announced my presence was required in the Queen’s chambers. I said I would be there and hesitated to still the savage beating of my heart. The Queen was no old gadje who could easily fooled. She was my hardest client and equal in spirit to me. I combed my hair into a luminescence of curls and put on a red satin dress with beaded pearls sewn into it. I sampled some of the fragrances on the mirrored dresser and selected a scent that reminded me of burning cherry wood.

  Sometimes I prefer a wild, bitter scent to a sweet one.

  90

  In all my imaginings of gadje wealth I was not prepared for the total splendor of the royal bed chamber. Gilt framed mirrors hung on every wall and winged seraphs flew across the ceiling. Their bed was a gigantic four poster walnut affair covered with reams of green velvet and gold brocade. In addition, mythological and hunting scenes were interspersed with the usual ancestor portraits. At the head of the wall on the bed was a portrait of Carlos’s father, King Phillip. And the smell was rank of unwashed bodies doused with heavy powder and perfume. The royals considered bathing to be hazardous to the health.

  The King and Queen were sprawled across the bed in an attitude of splendor and ease. And I, the gypsy, was clearly a lowly indentured servant. Things would have to change. I was no pawn, no weak dissembler nor court jester. The Queen, bejeweled, and made up, summoned me forward with a flick of her wrist. I bowed and came closer.

  The King had his usual vapid stare.

  “Are you a gypsy, Madam?” he asked. “And what do you want with your King?”

  “Carlos, she’s the gypsy of whom We spoke. The advisor,” hissed the Queen.

  “Ah, so she is. Carmen, is it?” he replied.

  “That I am. How may I serve Your Majesty?”

  You may tell me what to do with my minister, Melanceli. He is quite unpopular with the nobles. They threaten revolt.”

  “Is he a just man, the prime minister?” I asked.

  “He is a just man, gypsy, but we are talking politics, not morality,” said the Queen.

  “Don’t speak for the King, Marie,” snapped Carlos whose face was red.

  91

  “We apologize, my love. We know politics is not Our affair. Let the gypsy answer our question.”

  “I know the hidalgos (nobility) rule this land and don’t pay their donativos (taxes). The clergy, bankers, and tradesman pay. But the nobles have the armies and the King must be alert to this,” I said.

  “What then should We do. Melanceli has served Us well and Has taken much of Our burdens from Us. He is a good administrator, conscious of government function, honest , and favoritism to none,” replied the King.

  “But favor dictates you must let him go, my King,” I said.

  “My darling, the gypsy is right. We must expel him. We can’t stand against the hidalgos.” said the Queen.

  “What is Our future, gypsy? Will We be worshipped or will We be reviled?” said the King.

  “Carlos, you sound so weak when you ask her that. Are you going to ask for spells, poultices, poisons next?” said the Queen.

  “And why not? We are the King. We may do as We like. What is Our future, gypsy?”

  “You shall be a great King loved by all and you shall reign many years.”

  “Who do you think We are. Some old lady with a wandering husband, or perhaps some fool who thinks you can turn an egg into vellum (money)? Most assuredly not!” snapped the Queen. “We can get any fool to say that.”

  “But, Marie, it was good news,” said the King.

  92

  “All right, I will tell
you what to do,” I said. “You must make Olivares your next prime minister. He is a revolutionary and a reformer. He will do much for the Kingdom.”

  “Who have you talked to to get this information?” said the Queen.

  “No one. I saw his name form on a dark pond and that’s how I know.”

  “You lie, gypsy. It’s nothing but court intrigue,” said the Queen.

  “As for the future, the King will write his own like a scribe with a quill,” I said.

  “I say you are tricking Us,” said the Queen.

  “You are only King Carlos’s first wife. The second will be Princess Maria Ana of Newburg. I have powers, Madam.”

  “Do not call me Madam.”

  “I will call you Queen when you act like one!” I said.

  “That’s it. This is heresy. You dare call Us down.”

  “I dare. You asked a question: I answered it.”

  “We shall throw you in the deepest, darkest tower and you can ponder how you wronged your Queen.”

  “No prison can break me, my Queen and you may regret your action. You asked: I told.”

  “Guards, throw this gypsy in the dankest, deepest dungeon where there is no light.

  Take her from Our sight this minute!” said Marie Luisa.

  “I will not beg but you will live to regret this.” And I gave her the mal ojo (evil eye).

  93

  Two weeks I spent there, singing and casting spells. Each time they brought the tray of bread and water, I kicked it over and cursed the guard. At the beginning of the third week, Marie appeared at my cell. She was wan and pale and her hands shook.

  “Gypsy, since you’ve been down here, We’ve been unwell. Our legs buckle under Us and We can pass no food. What have you done to Us?”

  “Reverse the question,” I said through cracked lips. “My gypsy heart knows nothing of your condition.”

  “What will it take,” pleaded the Queen.

  “My Queen is wise and knows what she must do.”

  I spent my next hour in my own comfortable quarters with the doctor standing by.

  I ate and drank what I could and slept for two days. My Queen had learned that there are things under the moon and sun which cannot be explained. I have never been a servant!

  94

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  So Melanceli was expelled and Olivares was in. He had the aspect of a fine man, sleek and aristocratic, hard but not cruel. He took the King’s and Queen’s minds and fashioned them to his own specifications. I was to meet him and I knew he was a real Rom Baru (leader). It was to be in the state room and the ceilings were about fifty feet high, a grandiose room with many fine velvet lined chairs. Paintings of religious scenes, the Crucifixion, the Last Supper and so on. On the whole the furniture was heavy and ornately carved. Paintings of brilliant reds, greens, blues, and gold illuminated the walls and grand Oriental carpets covered the white marble floors. There was the air of luminescence and light about the room as if it held everything in the world and could spread out and encompass the lakes, forests, and fields on the outside.

  I wore a gold gown encrusted with emeralds and the neck line plunged revealing my milk fed breasts. On my ears hung two large perfect emeralds, and I used the gadje paints to emphasize my face and large, dark eyes. Gold slippers encased my feet and I knew I was a handsome woman. My black hair was pinned up in a cascade of ebony curls. Still I was not a gadje only an interloper in their world.

  “So this is the gypsy who saw my name written in a dark pond,” and he laughed without derision. Then he took off his hat and bowed low. Upon arising he kissed my hand. I felt a slight stirring down below and felt somewhat embarrassed. I took in his lean frame like that of a gypsy man, and his plain simple dress like that of a tradesman though he was a hidalgo (nobleman).

  95

  “The pleasure is all mine, Milord,” I said and curtseyed as I had seen gadje women do.

  “You have many ideas about the empire. Just where do you get your knowledge?” he asked.

  “From reading history, trade ledgers, bills of lading, anything that passes my hand, and I listen when people talk.”

  “I thought gypsies didn’t read,” he replied.

  “I read all the time, senor.”

  “But how?”

  “A gypsy cannot buy a book, senor? I learned to read when I was nine. My mother taught me.”

  “Why did you read all those books.”

  “That I might better know my enemy,” I replied.

  He laughed aloud. “Gypsy, you amuse me. Such a direct answer with no false coloration. I bet you were responsible for all those over priced horse deals your men used to make.”

  “No, I was a woman. I cooked, cleaned, looked after the animals and told fortunes. Such was my life.”

  “What a waste of talent.”

  “Gypsy women are not allowed to make final decisions where money is concerned. Such is our way.”

  “And now what do you think of your life?”

  “I think the gadje have softer beds and colder milk.”

  96

  He laughed again. “Boldness and wit. A fatal combination in a woman.”

  “Fatal for whom, Senor.”

  “Fatal for men, darling. Fatal for all us poor bastards who come into contact with you.” He laughed again and his teeth were like white, perfectly cut stones under his wide lips.

  “It seems Senor Olivares is quite taken by you,” observed the Queen drily.

  “All is well then,” inquired the King.

  “Of course, all is well, Carlos. We have an empire builder in our kingdom it would seem,” said the Queen.

  “Olivares, what shall we first do?” asked the King.

  “King, I recommend we put equality in taxation to stabilize the treasury. Make the nobles pay their donativos (taxes). They should not be exempt as in the past. We should put as higher tax on church lands: we shall call it the excudio and we shall tax their private fortunes as well. The clergy own much land and have their own armies which has nought to do with our Lord Majesty. We must increase crown revenues.

  Taxation must not be solely the burden of merchants, tradesman, farmers, and laborers.

  Secondly, we must make Spain a naval power. What do you think, gypsy?”

  “I think it should be done, but there will be much unrest and gnashing of teeth.”

  “Of course,” replied Olivares. “No one likes to part with money. I know there will be opposition at first but when they see we are obdurate they will acquiesce. Do you understand my words, gypsy?”

  “I understand a lion always gets a lion’s share and we must be the lion,” I said.

  97

  “We think it’s a good idea,” said King Carlos. “The treasury’s almost bankrupt and We sold off large tracts of our land. The sale of titles is not bringing in enough vellum (money).”

  “We must raise the price for the sale of titles. Make it so just any miscreant with a few dollars can become a lord,” said the Queen.

  “We will, dear. The past wars with your relative, Louis XIV, has depleted our silver supply. The mines in Potosi are not producing enough and people are trading directly with the Americas lately,” said the King.

  “Tell me something We don’t know, dear” said the queen archly.

  “What about the Mercedes (credit allotments to nobles),” I said. “They have been bankrupting your treasury for some time. It appears most anyone can get one now. The hidalgos (nobles) live in towns, whore, drink and gamble, and abandon their estates,” I said.

  “Gypsy, how you know all this?” asked Olivares.

  “I saw it first hand when I worked in the towns.”

  “One of Our first reforms will be stricter conditions for obtaining Mercedes. Of that you can be sure,” said the King.

  “Your majesty, may I consult with your gypsy on occasion. She has a very sharp mind,” asked Olivares.

  “Her name, Senor Olivares, is Carmen Caballito, and you may have
use of her on occasion,” said the Queen. “She is a soothsayer and Our personal advisor.”

  “Beyond being a soothsayer, she has a brilliant mind.”

  “The gypsy thanks you, Senor Olivares,” I said.

  98

  After he left I thought on how I was glad to meet him, and how like a gypsy man he was, hard, calculating and bold. Not lazy, soft and indolent like so many of the gadje men. And his face, so alive, lined with care was burnt into my brain.

  The Queen seemed not so happy with our alliance, jealous even.

  “So you liked Count Olivares. Is he to your taste?” said the Queen.

  “My Queen, no more than any other gadje man,”

  “I say you lie. You were quite taken with him,” said the Queen slamming her goblet of wine down on the mantle place.

  “He will be good for Spain and that is all, Milady.”

  “I think it’s more, and I forbid you to see him. You’re Our gypsy!”

  “But you said…”

  “When he calls for you, you will be gone or otherwise employed. You are Our property and We have need of you, Carmen Caballito.

  Then she stepped closer, her body inches from mine, and kissed me gently on the lips. The smell of her perfume assailed my nostrils.

  99

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Carlos, will you go in the garden for a bit. Carmen and We have business to discuss.”

  He looked somewhat startled but left immediately, saying nothing. It was if he knew. Marie Luisa and I were in the big hollow room all alone. She stepped even closer, giving me a passionate open mouthed kiss, and her hand slid under my bodice. I froze in horror but did not resist. To resist would have been fatal.

  “Carmen, We know We are your first woman and shall be your last. Come with Us to Our bed chamber. Don’t worry about Carlos: he knows how We are.” She was caressing the nipple of my breast, all the while tongue kissing me. I accepted her advances as a board accepts a coat of paint. Soon, we were in the royal bed chamber.

  “Oh, Carmen, you are so beautiful with your full breasts and flat belly. How long We have pictured you in Our mind.”