Outside the walls the nobility and clergy were gathering in tents and temporary accommodation. Wooden storage units and supplies and equipment clustered around this new village that Queen Isabella had ordered built out of the solid rock in order that the army could continue the siege through the winter. It took me most of the day to find news of Christopher Columbus. No one I spoke to knew where he was; many didn’t recognize his name. Perhaps he wasn’t as well known at court as he’d claimed. Then it occurred to me to seek out the court astronomer, and sure enough, Columbus was lodged there and I found him seated in this man’s quarters, deep in conversation with a group of important-looking men.
‘Saulo!’ He greeted me eagerly. ‘The business that you had to attend to has obviously brought you profit.’ He indicated my new clothes. I didn’t reply. He was not to know of my unfinished business, or of the deed I was here to perform. He waved to me to stand beside his chair while he continued his conversation with these men, who were advisers to the queen and king.
‘I can do this, I promise you,’ Columbus was assuring them. ‘If you give me the funding then this coming year, fourteen ninety-two, will be the one when I prove that my calculations are correct. I will find the passage west before any other man.’
‘To finance such an expedition would cost a great deal of money.’
This comment came from a man dressed in the garb of a notary. It was known that the monarchs guarded their purses against the ruinous cost of the war.
‘True, but the rewards would far outweigh the costs. And we strive to succeed not only for wealth. Queen Isabella vowed that all Spain would be Christian. This would be her opportunity to evangelize previously unknown territory.’
‘A bountiful harvest of souls for God,’ one of the monks agreed. He wore the habit of the Franciscans, the order which had befriended Columbus.
For a moment I thought of embarking on this dangerous and ambitious expedition. To slough off my cares for an adventure in a new place. What islands we might discover on the way! What fabulous peoples to meet, what exotic tastes to sample, what sights to see: animals and plants that no European had ever set eyes on before. For me it was not so much the glory that might come with these discoveries; rather it was the excitement of exploration that enchanted me, as I saw it did Columbus. His stance altered when he talked of his plans and dreams. His eyes glistened as he described what might be, the endless possibilities of new lands, the wonderment of knowing all God’s creation. He saw it as a duty to get to know the furthest extremities of our universe. This was why the Franciscans were drawn to his side, for they followed the rule of the man of Assisi who’d marvelled at and respected every living thing. I understood that, for Christopher Columbus, it was almost as if finding the new route to bring spices out of the East, away from the control of the Ottoman Empire, were a secondary purpose. Something he’d thought of to please his backers and coax them to invest in his project.
‘The prestige alone would be immense,’ Columbus continued. ‘To be the first country to have ventured so far; to be the nation that proves that the world is round . . .’
‘Round . . .? How . . .?’ another of his listeners asked. ‘Circular? A disc? A dome?’
‘A globe,’ said Columbus. He plunged his hand into a bag lying at his feet, and with a theatrical flourish brought out the large wooden ball on which was painted the known countries of the Earth. ‘Like this!’
‘Ahh!’ His audience gave a satisfyingly appreciative gasp. They moved closer to study it.
‘If you can go round west to east and east to west, there must still be a flat surface at the top and bottom,’ one of the priests observed.
‘I don’t believe so,’ Columbus said gravely. ‘I believe the world to be round in its entirety – completely, like a ball.’
The priest leaned forward and asked, ‘Then where is the location of Heaven and Hell?’
There ensued a lively debate among the clergy present as to whether the ideas of Christopher Columbus could be accommodated in theological terms. I saw that, although there were doubters, he had managed over the years to gather a group of loyal and intelligent supporters. But this particular priest was not to be silenced. He picked up the wooden ball and examined it. ‘What did you call this?’
‘A globe, Father Besian,’ replied Christopher Columbus. ‘It represents the world on which we live.’
‘A globe,’ Father Besian repeated. He indicated the manner in which the countries curved around its surface. ‘If we live upon a curved surface, then how,’ he demanded triumphantly, ‘does one not fall off?’
The court astronomer spoke up. ‘We believe a force exists that keeps us bound to Earth.’
‘The will of the Almighty,’ Father Besian intoned.
There was a silence. And then the Franciscan friar smiled at Father Besian. ‘What else could it be?’
When the court advisers had left, Columbus went over to the table by the window, where one of his maps was laid out. He placed the tips of his index and middle finger on Spain. Then he walked them across the flat surface until they reached the end of the table where the parchment met the wooden board. Columbus made one more step with his forefinger extended so that it hung in mid air, and then allowed his hand to drop over the side of the table.
‘Do you believe that is the fate that awaits me, Saulo?’
I stared at the floor and then my eyes returned to the map. ‘No, I do not,’ I replied. ‘I think there will be great peril in getting there, and even more in getting home. But . . . just think – suppose a man went out westwards and did not return across the Ocean Sea, but came sailing home from the East.’
‘Exactly!’ Columbus voice resonated with excitement. ‘To voyage round the whole world, and return bringing gifts! From the East! Like the Magi, bearing gold and frankincense! Mysterious, exotic and wonderful! Laden down with silver, spices and silks from Cathay!’
‘That is a land I’d like to see.’
‘Then you must come with me, Saulo.’ He seized my hands in his own. ‘Come with me! Be part of the adventure!’
Chapter Thirty-six
Zarita
‘I THINK YOU should make a visit to the royal court.’
It was the day after Christmas. A wet nurse had been secured for Lorena’s baby, and it had been one of the pleasures of my life to give the care of the boy child into the hands of Garci, Serafina and Ardelia. He would live with them in the staff quarters until the estate was settled and the house rebuilt. As far as they knew, this was my father’s son and they welcomed him with joy. And I found too that the baby had insinuated himself into my heart, which to my surprise had not shattered when I’d learned that Ramón had betrayed me in the arms of Lorena. Garci restored my old cradle, and Serafina and Ardelia made baby clothes. The sheets and blankets were freshly laundered and I brought him to them on Christmas Day. As he was tucked in, the little boy gurgled and blew a bubble from his lips.
I’d turned to leave and saw Bartolomé standing watching. ‘Why don’t you come and say hello?’ I prompted him.
He approached the cradle cautiously. I took his hand and placed it over the baby’s. The child opened his fingers and curled them around Bartolomé’s thumb.
‘Oh,’ Bartolomé breathed. And for the first time since the dreadful day of his arrest, he smiled.
The next morning in the convent my aunt Beatriz made her surprise announcement.
‘Visit the court!’ I said in astonishment. ‘What a crazy idea! Whatever for? And where would the money come from for me to do that?’
Aunt Beatriz smiled a knowing smile.
‘Ah!’ I said, understanding coming to me. ‘Was it here that Papa deposited the secret amount of money that Lorena told me about when she was dying?’
My aunt nodded. ‘He made me swear not to tell you until the time approached for you to take your final vows. And then I was to let you know, so that you could choose whether you wanted to remain in the convent or live outside, mode
stly but independently.’
I took a minute to digest this information – how I had misjudged my father’s intentions towards me, I thought – and then I said, ‘But even if I have funds to finance the trip, why would I wish to visit the royal court?’
‘I feel it is your duty to let Ramón know that he has a son.’
‘It may be that he doesn’t want to know,’ I pointed out. I’d been surprised by my own reaction on hearing Lorena’s secret. Of course I’d felt shock and disappointment at Ramón’s betrayal. But it wasn’t having the long-term devastating effect on me that it might have had previously. Where once I might have given way to seething anger and despair, now I viewed the matter in a different way. I suspected that my relationship with Ramón had been superficial; our mutual attraction based on looks and possessions. The troubles we had encountered at the time of my mama’s death hadn’t drawn us together; on the contrary, we’d grown apart. Afterwards I was so much taken up with my feud with Lorena to appreciate what was happening between us and to realize the implications of the change in his manner. And indeed I’d been too immature to properly assess his character, for, although Lorena had seduced him, using the wiles of an older woman to flatter a younger man, Ramón had been a willing partner.
‘Most men like to know that they are capable of fathering a son,’ said my aunt. ‘They think that they can establish a dynasty through the male line. It is curious, for it’s the women who bind a family together and women who keep the household on a steady course. So it may be that Ramón wouldn’t acknowledge him publicly, but it would be wrong for us to conceal the child’s birth from his father.’
I thought about this. What complications might arise from the news that the child was not Papa’s? If things were left as they were, then the boy would inherit the estate. I didn’t mind this. I would have sufficient money to live well enough whether I chose to remain in the convent or leave it. I was unsure that telling Ramón was the correct thing to do. Perhaps my aunt was right, perhaps not. But in any case, I did want to see Ramón Salazar again. There was unfinished business between us.
‘You should go within the week,’ my aunt said. ‘A new year beginning will mark a new stage in your own life, Zarita. While the court is outside Granada it’s less than a day’s journey from here. I’ll contact an old friend who will find you accommodation and escort you to functions.’
‘An old friend?’ I teased her. ‘Would this be a man?’
‘I had many gallants who wooed me,’ Aunt Beatriz countered, but there was a hint of something unsaid in her eyes, so I persisted.
‘Did you favour any of them in a special way?’
Her cheeks dimpled. ‘Oh, I could speak the language of the fan as well as any señorita at court.’ She paused. ‘Yes, there was one. But he was not a courtier. He was of such lowly birth that my father, your maternal grandfather, would not countenance any liaison, so my gallant went away. He was killed in the War of Succession when the Portuguese tried to claim the Spanish crown. I thought I would die of a broken heart. I expect my father was thinking only of my welfare, but I judged him harshly, as no doubt you have your own father.’
Less harshly, I thought, now that I’d learned the reasons for his actions.
‘We are not so different, you and I, Zarita,’ my aunt continued. ‘I was very like you before I learned more of the ways of the world. My father arranged an affluent marriage for me. He wanted me to have a secure position and income so that I could manage my own house, but I was young and wilful so I ran away.’
‘You ran away!’
‘Oh, don’t be so shocked,’ she laughed. ‘I only ran as far as the nearest nunnery. So initially mine wasn’t a true religious vocation. I didn’t seek out the Lord. But sometimes now I think perhaps He sought me out, for this is where I have found love and abiding peace.’
Yes, we were similar, my aunt and I. And I too had discovered peace within the walls of the convent, but had I found love?
‘This friend I speak of, Zarita, was like another sister to me. She decided to marry for expediency and not to follow me into the cloister. And just as well, for it would have made a merry unrest here with two of us like-minded for fun and dancing. Her name is Eloisa and I will write to her. She will receive you into her household: you may come and go within her protection and she will engineer for you a meeting with Ramón Salazar.’
‘Very well,’ I said meekly. ‘But I will go as a nun.’
‘I think not.’ My aunt smiled, a light of mischief in her eyes. ‘You will go as a princess.’
She led me up into the loft of the convent house to find an old wooden trunk. ‘I brought this with me when I founded the order here,’ she said. ‘I wonder if any of these gowns will still fit me.’
She was taller than me, and despite being older she still had the slimness of a girl. Her way of life had given rise to none of the roundness of body that my mother had developed due to childbearing and a fondness for cake.
We opened up the chest, and there, swaddled in layers of silk, were the clothes my aunt had worn when she attended the royal court as a young girl. She lifted out a full-skirted red dress with a black net overskirt. ‘The style must be horrendously out of date but the material is of the best quality and Eloisa will have a seamstress who can alter it.’ She shook out the skirts and held it against herself. ‘I used to wear this dress with a necklace of rubies round my throat.’
I put my hand to my neck. I remembered the blackened beads in my mother’s jewellery box.
My aunt Beatriz must have guessed what was in my mind. ‘Always remember, sweetheart,’ she said, ‘that a beautiful flower needs no adornment.’
Beatriz shed tears as we said goodbye. ‘Send word to me when you arrive. Give my love to Eloisa. I hope things go well.’
Before I stepped into the carriage I took my aunt’s hand in my own. ‘It isn’t just for the matter of the child that I am travelling to the court to speak to Ramón Salazar.’
My aunt gave me a farewell kiss on the cheek. ‘I know, Zarita,’ she said. ‘I know.’
Chapter Thirty-seven
Saulo
IT WAS THE idea of Christopher Columbus that I should engage with the company of the court and try to win the favour of as many influential people as possible.
‘Saulo, the ladies will swoon over you,’ Columbus declared. ‘You cut a striking figure, with your height and build, and the clarity of your eyes, blazing azure blue, having been at sea so long. Yet’ – he paused and studied my clothes – ‘perhaps you might consider whether your dress is a mite too attractive. After all’ – he clapped me on the shoulder – ‘you don’t want to outshine those affluent nobles that we want to impress.’
I’d already come to something of the same conclusion regarding the elaborate suits I’d purchased from the smooth-talking tailor. What had appeared sophisticated and elegant in his shop mirror, with his tongue dripping flattery over me like oil over cheese, now appeared vain and overdressed in the looking glass Columbus had set opposite the window of his room.
I took the heavy fur capelet from around my neck and cast it aside. ‘I can’t imagine how one wears one of these every day,’ I agreed.
‘Ah, now, that’s better.’ Columbus nodded. ‘We can see your face.’
He’d allowed me use of an alcove within his own room where I might stay until the court moved into Granada. There I discarded most of the rest of my finery and reverted to black tunic and hose, high leather boots and a loose white shirt with a minimum amount of pin-tuck stitching down the front and along the cuffs of the sleeves. I gathered up my cloak, stuck my long knife in my belt and was ready to sally forth.
On this, the night before the victory procession into Granada, the royal reception rooms were thronging with people eating and drinking and taking advantage of the monarchs’ rare hospitality. Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand were usually frugal in their expenditure, for the war had depleted their treasury. It was accounted as fact that the queen
had pawned her jewels to finance the siege, and neither she nor her husband dressed extravagantly. I edged my way through the crowds. I was curious to see the warrior woman of whom I’d heard so much.
And then I saw a different woman and I stopped very still.
She was standing gazing up at a tapestry. There was a serenity about her that arrested attention. The wall hanging showed a map of Spain. It was a pale green colour, with the names of the various provinces and kingdoms stitched in gold. In her dress of dark red the woman stood out against it in form and figure as a rose might stand out in a garden of ordinary grasses.
I thought her beautiful from the first second I saw her. Her hair was caught up in a black lace snood, so neatly that it completely exposed her chin, her neck, the curve of her shoulders. Her dress was very plain. No jewellery adorned her. It served to make her distinctive among the rainbow colours of the rest of the guests, in their gaudy satins and heavy velvets shot with silver lace and cloth of gold, all decorated with precious stones, their fingers heavy with rings.
The way she carried herself indicated that, although part of the room, she was aloof from it. I followed the line of her neck to her shoulder, down her arm to where her hands, holding her fan, rested in the folds of her skirt. She turned, very slowly, to survey the room, and I saw her brow, her nose, her face. She was exquisite.
I searched the room until I found what I reckoned to be the most alert servant, a young man with a keen, intelligent face. I went to him and said, ‘Find out the name of that girl and I will give you a coin.’ Then I returned to a vantage point from where I could watch her.
Within a few minutes the servant returned and spoke to me. ‘Her name is Zarita de Marzena. She is from some village and is here only for a short visit under the protection of Señora Eloisa de Parada. It’s her first time at court.’ He glanced at her and grinned at me. ‘Can’t you tell?’
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