Castile for Isabella

by Виктория Холт

  * * *

  With the return of his sight, John of Aragon regained a great deal of that energy which had been his chief characteristic in the past. John was shrewd and clever; his vulnerable spot had been his love for Joan Henriquez, and that in itself had been the stronger because of the strength of his character. His love for his wife had forced him to give to her son all the affection he had for his children, which meant robbing those by his first wife. John knew that the war, which had lasted so many years and had impoverished him and Aragon, was entirely due to his treatment of Carlos. Joan had demanded the sacrifice of Carlos, that her son Ferdinand might be his father’s heir; and willingly had John given her all that she asked, because he found it impossible to deny her anything.

  Now he did not regret what he had done. He was as determined as Joan had been that Ferdinand should rule Aragon.

  The greatest pleasure left to him was to contemplate this handsome, virile youth, who had, under his mother’s tuition, been trained for the great role which was being won for him.

  If, thought John, before I was a father I had imagined a son who could be all that I looked for, he would have been exactly like Ferdinand.

  Ferdinand was lusty; he was brave; he cherished what he had, because he had been fully aware that it had been won with blood and anguish, and he was as determined to hold it as his parents had been to give it to him.

  How blessed am I in Ferdinand, his father often said.

  And so to the Court of Aragon came the embassy led by Isabella’s faithful servants, Gutierre de Cardenas and Alonso de Palencia.

  John received them with great pleasure, for he knew their mission; his great regret was that Joan was not alive to share this triumph. He went to his son’s apartment, and when they were alone together, he told him of the arrival of the embassy from Isabella.

  ‘It is the best possible news,’ he said. ‘I could not imagine a match which would have given your mother greater pleasure.’

  ‘Isabella,’ mused Ferdinand. ‘I hear she is comely, though a little older than myself.’

  ‘A year! What is a year at your age?’

  ‘It is not much perhaps. But I hear that she has a will of her own.’

  John laughed. ‘It will be for you to make your will hers. She is very ready to love you. Of that we are certain. She has refused many suitors, and on all these occasions has affirmed that she was betrothed to you.’

  ‘She will be faithful then,’ said Ferdinand.

  ‘There are conditions,’ went on John. ‘It would seem that Castilians believe they are greatly honouring us in bestowing the hand of their future Queen upon us.’

  ‘Honouring us!’ cried Ferdinand hotly. ‘We must make them understand that we are Aragon!’

  ‘Ah, Aragon. In sorry state is Aragon at this time. By the saints, son, I wonder how we are going to fit you out for your wedding. Now, let us look at this matter calmly. Let us not quarrel with Castile. Let them believe for the present that they greatly honour us. We must get you married quickly, and then you will show your Isabella that you are lord and master.’

  ‘I will do that,’ said Ferdinand. ‘I hear she is handsome, yet haughty. She is a little prim.’ He smiled. ‘I shall teach her to cast aside her primness.’

  ‘You will remember that she is not a tavern girl.’

  ‘Yes, but tavern girls perhaps are not so very different from Queens in some respects.’

  ‘I would not have such remarks overheard and reported to Isabella. So have a care. Now listen. This Isabella is clearly a determined young woman. She has a year’s advantage of you. You have been in battle, and have led to some extent a soldier’s life, for all your tender years. She has lived a cloistered life but, make no mistake about it, she has been brought up to be a Queen. These are the conditions of the marriage agreement: You must live in Castile and not leave it without the consent of Isabella.’

  ‘What!’ interrupted Ferdinand. ‘I should be as her slave.’

  ‘Hush, my son. Think of the richness of Castile and Leon; then think of poor Aragon. You will be the master – in time. At first it may be necessary to be a little more humble than you would wish to be.’

  ‘Well,’ said Ferdinand, ‘what next?’

  ‘You are not to take property to yourself which belongs to the crown, nor make appointments without her consent. You shall jointly make decrees of a public nature; but she, personally, will nominate ecclesiastical benefices.’

  Ferdinand grimaced.

  His father went on: ‘You will help her in every way to make war on the Moors.’

  ‘That I will do with all my heart and all my strength.’

  ‘You must respect the present King, and not ask for the return of that property in Castile which formerly belonged to us.’

  ‘She makes a hard bargain, this Isabella.’

  ‘But she comes with a handsome dowry. Moreover, she brings you Castile. Oh, my son, it cost your mother and myself a great deal to give you Aragon. Now comes Isabella to offer you Castile.’

  ‘Then, Father, shall we accept these conditions?’

  ‘With great delight, my son. Come, you are not looking as pleased as you should.’

  ‘It would seem we must humble ourselves rather more than I like.’

  John put his arm about his son’s shoulders.

  ‘Come, come, my boy. I doubt not you will very soon have your own way. You are a handsome man, and Isabella – she may be the future Queen of Castile, but remember, she is also a woman.’

  Ferdinand laughed aloud.

  He was completely confident of his power to rule both Aragon and Castile – and Isabella.

  * * *

  Isabella knew that her situation was dangerous and that the Marquis of Villena would sooner or later learn that she had sent an embassy to Aragon; she knew also that if it were discovered that she had gone as far as signing an agreement with Aragon, Villena would stop at nothing to prevent her marriage with Ferdinand.

  Villena with Henry had gone to South Castile to deal with the last stronghold of the rebels; and Isabella, taking advantage of their absence, slipped quietly out of Ocaña to Madrigal.

  Here she was received by the Bishop of Burgos; but she was somewhat alarmed, for he was the nephew of Villena and it occurred to her that he was probably more devoted to the Marquis than to that other relative, the Archbishop of Toledo.

  She was right. The Bishop lost no time in sending a message to his uncle Villena telling him of Isabella’s arrival.

  Villena’s reply came: ‘Have her watched. Bribe her servants, and if you should discover that she has been in touch with Aragon, lose no time in informing me.’

  The Bishop was eager to serve his powerful uncle, and in a very short time many servants in Isabella’s entourage had been offered bribes to report Isabella’s actions; and many letters which she wrote passed through the hands of the Bishop of Burgos before being sent on to their destination.

  It was therefore not long before the Bishop discovered how far matters had gone between Isabella and Ferdinand.

  * * *

  Villena was furious. He raged against Isabella.

  ‘This,’ he cried to Henry, ‘is your pious sister. She vows that she will not marry without your consent, but as soon as our backs are turned she is in communication with Aragon.’

  ‘We did break our part of the bargain,’ suggested Henry timidly.

  Villena snapped his fingers. ‘There is one thing we can do now: make her our prisoner. We were foolish not to do so before.’

  ‘But we tried,’ said Henry. ‘And the people of Ocaña would not have it. I am afraid that Isabella, like young Alfonso, has that quality in her which arouses the loyalty of the people.’

  ‘The loyalty of the people!’ snapped Villena. ‘We will put her where she cannot appeal to that – and where the gallant Ferdinand cannot reach her. We shall give orders at once for the Archbishop of Seville to go to Madrigal and take with him a strong enough force to seize and
make her our prisoner.’

  ‘And what of the people of Madrigal? Will they allow her to be made a prisoner, any more than those of Ocaña did?’

  ‘We shall make them aware of our displeasure, should they help her to resist arrest. We will strike such fear into them that they will not dare.’

  Henry looked worried. ‘She is, after all, my sister.’

  ‘Highness, are you prepared to leave this matter in my hands?’

  ‘As ever, my dear friend.’

  * * *

  Isabella was told that the leading citizen of Madrigal was asking to be admitted to her presence.

  She received him at once.

  ‘Highness,’ he said, ‘I come on behalf of my fellow citizens. We are in great peril, and so are you. We have received word from the King that you are about to be placed under arrest and that, should we attempt to help you, we shall suffer greatly. I have come to warn you to escape, for, in view of these threats, we of Madrigal dare do nothing to help you.’

  Isabella graciously thanked him for his warning and sent for two of her servants, both of whom she knew she could completely trust.

  ‘I want you to take two messages for me – one to the Archbishop of Toledo and the other to Admiral Henriquez,’ she said. ‘This is a matter of the utmost urgency. There is not a second to lose. You will go at once, and with all speed.’

  As soon as they had gone she sent her page to summon Beatriz and Mencia to her presence, and when the women arrived she said calmly: ‘We are leaving Madrigal. I want you to go ahead of me. Go to Coca... it is not far; and wait for me there.’

  Beatriz was about to protest, but there were times when Isabella reminded her that she was the mistress, and Beatriz was always quick to appreciate her meaning.

  A little hurt, the two women retired, and Isabella was uneasy until they had left. She knew that if the Bishop of Seville arrived to arrest her, he would take prisoner her confidential women also, and she wished to save Beatriz and Mencia even if she could not save herself.

  They would be safe in Coca. She would not be. She needed to be under the safe protection of strong men.

  Now began the anxious vigil when Isabella waited at her window. Soon she would hear the sound of advancing cavalry and shouts from below, and her future might depend upon this day’s events. She did not know what would happen to her if she fell into the hands of the Bishop of Seville. She would be the King’s prisoner – or more accurately, Villena’s – and she did not think she would easily regain her freedom.

  Then what would the future hold for her? An enforced marriage? With Alfonso of Portugal? With Richard of Gloucester? They would rid themselves of her in some way. They would wish to banish her either to Portugal or England. And if she refused?

  Would it be the old familiar pattern? Would her servants find her one morning as Alfonso’s had found him?

  And Ferdinand? What of him? Eagerly he had accepted the marriage agreement. He understood, she was sure, even as she did, the glory that could come from the union of Castile and Aragon. But once she fell into the hands of the Archbishop of Seville, once Villena became the master of her fate, that would be the end of all their dreams and hopes.

  And so she waited.

  At length she heard what she listened for, and then... she saw him, the fiery, militant Archbishop of Toledo, now her loyal servant, ready to snatch her from under the very nose of the Bishop of Burgos who had meant to offer her up to his uncle, Villena.

  She heard that resounding voice.

  ‘Conduct me to the Princess Isabella.’

  He stood before her.

  ‘Highness, there is little time to lose. I have soldiers below. Enough to ensure our safe departure from this place, but it would be better if we left before Seville arrives with his troop. Come with all speed.’

  And so Isabella rode away from Madrigal only a little while before the Archbishop of Seville arrived to find the prize was gone.

  ‘On!’ cried Alfonso Carillo, Archbishop of Toledo, from now on Isabella’s most firm supporter. ‘On to Valladolid, where we can be sure of a loyal welcome for the future Queen of Castile.’

  * * *

  What joy it was to be received with acclaim by the citizens of Valladolid, and to know that they looked upon her as their future Queen.

  But when the triumphant parade was over the Archbishop came to Isabella and reminded her – as she knew already – that this was no time for delay.

  ‘I know my nephew, the Marquis of Villena,’ said the Archbishop. ‘He is a man of great resource, and he is as sly as a fox. I would meet him happily enough on the field of battle, but I would not care to have to match myself against his devious diplomacy. There is one thing we must do and that with all speed: hasten the marriage.’

  ‘I am willing that we should proceed with all haste,’ Isabella assured him.

  ‘Then, Highness, I will despatch envoys at once to Saragossa, and this time we will inform Ferdinand that it is imperative that he set out for Castile with all speed.’

  ‘Let it be done,’ said Isabella.

  * * *

  When Villena heard that Isabella had escaped him he was furious.

  ‘And to think,’ he said, ‘that it was due to my own uncle.’ Then he laughed, and there was a note of pride in his laughter. ‘Trust the old man to get there before that fool, Seville.’ And it amused him that members of his family should be deciding the fate of Castile even though they were now on opposite sides.

  He went to the King.

  ‘I know my uncle, and I’ll swear that his first action will be to bring Ferdinand into Castile. He will marry him to Isabella, and thus we shall have not only Isabella’s adherents but Aragon against us. Moreover, once Isabella is married we cannot hope to rid ourselves of her. It is imperative that Ferdinand and Isabella never meet.’

  ‘But how shall we prevent this?’

  ‘By taking Ferdinand prisoner as soon as he sets foot in Castile.’

  ‘You can do this? But how?’

  ‘Highness, we must do it. Let us make our plans. He will come through the frontier town of Osma. There he will receive the aid of Medina Celi. So he believes. We must make sure that Medina Celi is our man... not Isabella’s.’

  ‘That will not be easy,’ said the King.

  ‘But we will make sure of it,’ answered Villena. His eyes narrowed. ‘I will threaten our little Duke of Medina Celi with the direst penalties if he should aid Ferdinand. I assure Your Highness that Medina Celi will watch on our behalf, and the moment Ferdinand arrives we shall be informed. The King and Queen of Aragon went to great lengths to make him the heir to their crown. We will go to as great lengths to make sure he never touches that of Castile. Of course I have Your Highness’s permission to deal with Medina Celi?’

  ‘You must do as you wish, but how glad I shall be when all this strife is at an end.’

  ‘Leave this matter to me, Highness. Once we have curbed our haughty Isabella... once she is safely despatched to Portugal or... elsewhere... then, I promise you, there shall be peace in this land.’

  ‘I pray the saints it will be soon,’ sighed Henry.

  * * *

  When the embassy arrived at Saragossa, John of Aragon found himself in a quandary.

  He sent for Ferdinand.

  ‘Here is a pretty state of affairs,’ he said. ‘I hear from the Archbishop of Toledo that Villena is trying to prevent the match; and the Archbishop fears he will succeed unless the marriage takes place immediately. He suggests that you set out at once for Valladolid.’

  ‘Well, Father, I am ready.’

  John of Aragon groaned. ‘My son, how can you go into Castile as Isabella’s bridegroom, when there are no more than three hundred enriques in the treasury? What sort of figure will you cut!’

  Ferdinand looked grave. ‘I cannot go as a beggar, Father.’

  ‘I do not know how else you can go. I had hoped that there would be a little respite to enable me to get the money for your jo
urney. I am making you King of Sicily so that you will enter Castile with the rank of King, but how can we possibly send you without the necessary pomp, the glittering garments and all that you will need for your wedding?’

  ‘Then we must wait...’

  ‘To delay could be to lose Isabella. Villena is working with all his might against the match. I believe his plan is to rid Castile of Isabella – perhaps by marriage, perhaps by other methods – and no doubt set up La Beltraneja in her place. My son, you may have to fight your way to Isabella...’ John stopped, and a smile spread across his face. ‘Why, Ferdinand, I think I have the solution to our problem. Listen to me. I will tell you briefly and then we will lay this plan before a secret council.’

  ‘I am eager to hear what you propose, Father,’ said Ferdinand.

  ‘The frontier from Almazin to Guadalajara will be dangerous for you to cross. It is the property of the Mendoza family which, as you know, supports La Beltraneja. If you travelled as yourself, with the embassy, nobles and servants, you would find it impossible to cross that frontier unobserved.

  But what say you, my son, if you went with a party of merchants? What if you were disguised as one of their servants? I’ll warrant then that you would travel to Valladolid unmolested.’

  Ferdinand wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘In the attire of a servant, Father!’

  John put his arm about the young man’s shoulder.

  ‘It is the answer,’ he cried. ‘You will remember, Ferdinand, that a kingdom is at stake. Now I consider this, I see that it is the only manner in which you could hope to reach Isabella in safety. And think! It provides us with the excuse we need. What folly to equip you as a King when you travel as a merchant’s lackey!’

  * * *

  As soon as the innkeeper received the party of merchants he noticed their lackey. The fellow had an insolent air, and it was clear that he thought himself superior to the position he occupied.