“Both are correct assumptions.”
“I hope you will not be offended when I say that although it was their general opinion that the father was the head groom, I also heard whisperings that it might be you.”
Gaztelu’s spectacles slid off the end of his nose in astonishment and only his plump cheeks saved them from disaster.
“I suppose they could not resist that thought; that is natural enough.” Quijada’s smile was aggravatingly inscrutable, his eyes betraying nothing. “What I will tell you is that a musician about to retire and return to Spain signed a paper taking responsibility for the boy and giving the assurance that no one would know the identity of the father. The groom signed for the wife, who is illiterate, before countersigning the agreement.”
“So, the groom is the father?”
“I never said that.”
“Princess Juana told me that the child is now in your charge.”
Gaztelu’s spectacles were pushed all the way up to the bridge of his nose, as he smiled his delight with all this information.
“He is. The musician died; and to be perfectly frank I had been dissatisfied for some time with the inadequacies of both parents. My wife and I are childless, and, since I could think of no better mother in the world to care for the lad, and not wanting to risk another poor placing, I decided to take him into our home.”
Gomez stroked at the dark curls of his beard. “There is little wonder, you must admit, that there should be gossip about a bastrd child when such efforts have been made right from the beginning, from the moment of his birth, putting two hundred miles, an ocean included, between him and his mother. What of his mother, by the way?”
“Married. Yes, the mother is married, and the child has an excellent home. So everyone is happy.”
“And who is the father?” Gomez tried once more.
Gaztelu settled his spectacles firmly on his nose in readiness for the revelation.
Quijada smiled. “What would be the point in knowing? It would serve no purpose; it cannot change anything. If, one day, the father should choose to reveal his identity, then that will be the appropriate time.”
Gomez eyed him quizzically; would Quijada go to all that trouble for a groom’s child? But, then again, surely he would not bring a former mistress’s child into his own home expecting his wife to be its mother. It happened all the time; but Quijada? Never!
Gaztelu shuffled his way round his desk, sat down and arranged his papers.
Gaztelu will be disappointed not to hear more of the young lad in Quijada’s care, but there was enough there to whet the appetite and stir the imagination.
III
The wheels of Carlos’s chair trundled noisily across the tiled floor. José and Samuel transferred their charge into his gout chair; one of Torriano’s inventions with a splendid system of ratchets to raise and lower the leg rests independent of each other, and to allow the back to recline. Once Carlos was installed and comfortable the wheelchair was set to one side and the two servants took up their positions by the door, feet slightly apart, hands behind their backs.
Carlos quickly appraised his son Felipe’s aide and once again congratulated himself on the excellent decision he had made all those years ago in transferring him to Felipe’s court.
“Welcome, welcome dear Gomez.” Carlos smiled and raised a hand from the arm rest. “I trust you slept well in your apartment. Faithful Quijada here arranged everything for you.”
“Your majesty,” Gomez made three reverences before kneeling to kiss the royal hand. “How it pleases me to see you once more; and to see you fully recovered from your recent illnesses. My thanks to you Quijada for having the room in readiness for my arrival; after such a journey I cannot begin to describe how much I appreciate such comforts. I am deeply grateful.”
“It is as well that this place has something to commend itself to you, it does nothing for me. For my part I would rather be miles away.”
Gomez laughed, “In Villagarcía, no doubt, with your arms about your lovely wife Doña Magdalena?”
“At the very least, Gomez; and away from this rain. I tell you there is more damned water falls on this place in an hour than falls on Valladolid in a whole year.”
Carlos wagged a twisted, swollen finger at him, “I must point out that my secretary Gaztelu has never been known to utter a word of complaint. You are beginning to sound like an old man, Quijada, nay worse, an old woman. Come, gather around the fire, draw up some stools, so we may talk in comfort.”
Quijada bowed, “Comfort for some is Hell for others, my lord. Indeed some may feel they are in the fiery furnaces at this very moment. I beg your forbearance if I sit a little apart.”
“You are in a crotchety mood this morning! Can you believe your ears, Gomez? What am I to do with the man? He would deny me my little comforts for his own when he knows how I suffer intensely from the merest hint of cold. It gets right into my bones. Shame on you, Quijada, for being so selfish. But to more serious matters; how is Felipe, my dear son? Is he still in the Low Countries? He is not as constant with his letters as a good son suld be.”
“Your majesty, he is well, and if he does not write to you in person it is because he has many duties to attend to. The winter has been exceedingly bitter with more snow and ice than I care to remember; but your son, like a true Christian has arranged relief for those most affected. He has distributed straw, firewood, bread, and beer where needed. We have witnessed some desperate cases, my lord. However, there have been occasions of respite from the cares and woes of a very sorry situation. Many of the company have enjoyed winter fun and games including skating on the pond in the park.”
“Did Felipe join in the activities?”
“No, my lord, but he enjoyed many a laugh at their antics.”
“Well that, at least, is something. I feel he is often far too serious for a young man, not knowing how to relax. All work and no play makes for a very dull person.”
“I am sure he has his own ways, my lord, to escape the weight of ever present responsibilities.”
Carlos spluttered furiously, “Aye; and those are a damned sight far removed from skating and snowballing! Oh, yes, I have heard tales that he goes out alone at night and in disguise to seek diversion and amusement with women at a certain house.”
Then just as the sudden outburst had shocked Gomez, he was equally taken aback by its disappearance. Carlos grinned, “I am sure you know all and I am equally sure that as his faithful friend you will not tell me. We understand that sort of loyalty do we not my friend Quijada? But I am his father and should know if he has decided to ignore my sound advice on such things. More importantly I am concerned whether he is being unfaithful to his queen, the Lady Mary. My advice, by the way, is good advice for any man, you included, Gomez,” he leaned towards him. “Squandering good seed is harmful to the body. Moderation is called for. Good God my uncle killed himself with too much sexual sport.”
Quijada coughed.
“I know.” Carlos was peeved. “It is only hearsay, and perhaps not necessarily true. Nevertheless, I do know that overindulgence in that sort of thing weakens a man’s seed. And lastly, I would remind you of the teachings of the church.”
Ruy Gomez cleared his throat, recovering from the shock of the mood changes, the embarrassment of the lecture. “I thank you for your wise counsel, my lord. Regaring the rumours about King Felipe; there will always be those who exaggerate, and those who are only too ready to spread calumny, especially against the good and the great and even more so against the innocent.”
Carlos narrowed his eyes, “You leave me with no answer to that, for you are so right. Then I shall remain in ignorance. But we will set that aside for the while.”
Just a quick word; Felipe, I am afraid, has transgressed at least twice. One of the young ladies now finds herself in an ‘interesting’ condition. There are also stories circulating about him and his cousin, Princess Christina of Denmark, his erstwhile ambassador to England ne
wly returned to Brussels. She is a young woman, most intelligent and more than qualified; but far too pretty.
“My lord, with permission, let me turn to urgent matters. Felipe is on his way to England to seek military support against the French. It beggars belief, my lord, to think it is just months since we signed a peace treaty with the French, yet they are on the move once more, and His Holiness the Pope is in league with them. If one cannot trust the pope who is there to trust! The situation is critical. France, at the bequest of the pope has invaded Italy, while at the same time attacking Flanders. Unfortunately we are in a perilous financial position. King Felipe has had to suspend all loan repayments to the banks. We are in desperate need of money for the wars, and to repay our debts. Things are in a sorry state.”
He stopped, alarmed at Carlos’s reaction; the face livid, eyes ablaze; he looked to Quijada for reassurance. Quijada encouraged him to continue.
“Your majesty, King Felipe has sent me to seek your advice and support to get us out of this impasse.”
/span>The anger was quite gone, disappeared. Carlos closed his eyes. “The sure signs of a dutiful son; to turn to his father is in itself most gratifying. It is good to know that my many years of experience have been noted, and noted well. Of course we will do all in our power. Nothing is beyond our capabilities; is that not so, Quijada?”
“Quite so, my lord; goodness me, we have been in this situation so often before and fought our way through it,” he was well practised in sounding positive, he had had years of it. “We need to know everything. How bad is the debt?”
I did say a few moments ago that Gomez is the Chief Accountant of the Treasury. Well in truth there is no Treasury, or at best it is a great misnomer.
I hate to sound pedantic but a treasury is responsible for monies deposited and dispersed, requiring organisation, a system of accounting for revenues and expenditures; correct?
For years this country’s finances have been conducted on an ad hoc basis; the Treasury waiting for, hoping for, income to arrive from someone or somewhere while trying to meet the demands of creditors and at the same time seeking funds for foreign campaigns.
I tell you the only system in operation is one of limping from crisis to deepening crisis.
But back to Gomez.
“I am afraid to have to report that Spain is so seriously in debt to the foreign bankers that at this point not one, no, not one of them will exchange gold for our promissory notes; and if this were not all …”
Carlos exploded, “Those blasted Germans! Oh, they are only too ready to have someone protect them; but by God, when it suits them they can be too damned reluctant to part with the wherewithal to pay for that protection! God knows I have always given them their damned money in the end; and with a pretty hefty interest too. Yes, they have always got their pound of flesh. They have never been the ones mortgaged up to the hilt. For how many years have I poured Spanish gold back into their coffers? Paying over forty per cent interest, I would have you know! Humph! Bankers: the Fuggers, et al. I sspect the poisonous talk of some of those damned German princes behind this. Downright insulting. But I shall not lose my temper. I need time to think.”
“Have you been to Valladolid to speak with the Princess Juana?” Quijada enquired. He knew full well he had, hadn’t he just said that the princess had spoken of the child, but he had to ask.
“I have. But more grave news awaited me there. Something is sorely amiss in Seville. Let me explain. When the princess, acting on behalf of Felipe, sought loans for the Spanish troops, the response from Seville was that there was no gold. I mean, I ask you, no gold? My lord, I do not seek to cause your majesty any alarm …”
Carlos’s face had turned purple; strangled gurglings of rage forced their way from between lips rigid with anger. “I do not believe this! How dare they!” He held his hand to his throat.
Gomez rose to his feet, alarmed. Quijada leapt up, sending his stool clattering to the floor. Gaztelu rushed for a goblet of barley water.
“Sire, shall I send for Mathys? For some medication perhaps?” Quijada was concerned.
“No, dammit!” Carlos fumed, “I shall soon recover. This is anger, not an illness you fools!” He threw the contents of the goblet into his mouth before furiously spitting the whole lot back. “Get rid of that horse piss, Gaztelu, and bring me a beer. Gentlemen help yourselves to some refreshment. We must think.”
IV
“This sounds a most worrying affair,” whispered Quijada to Gomez as he poured a small quantity of beer into a goblet for the king.
“Very. Wait until you hear the whole story. I hope his majesty is strong enough.”
“No whisperings over there,” Carlos threw at them, “my ears arabout the only part of my body not to fail me these days and I heard every word.” He took the offered goblet, peering down into its meagre contents. “It is as well for you, Quijada, that I owe you so much for your years of friendship, or I swear to God I would have you … do you call this a drink?”
“It is, albeit a small one.”
They sat and drank in silence until Carlos showed his readiness to hear more.
“You may continue. Do not spare me the details,” he growled.
Ruy Gomez began hesitantly, “The vaults in Seville, my lord, normally full with bullion brought home in the fleets from the New World have been emptied. Felipe on hearing this wrote to the merchants stating his fury in no uncertain terms, but it was not until my arrival at Valadolid that I discovered the whole truth.”
“I take it we are not speaking of the gold that belongs to the merchants who finance the shipments?” Carlos measured out the words slowly, quietly.
“No, my lord, not entirely; although as you are aware that while much of the gold is in truth theirs it has always been made available to the crown; but not so now. Normally there is other gold too; brought back in payments for goods delivered, and in the past this also was at our disposal, but again, not so now. And what of the Royal Fifth of all bullion plus the Royal Taxes, equalling approximately forty per cent of all the gold shipped into this country, which also belongs to the Crown? I am afraid there is even very little of that left. Apparently most has been taken because of unpaid royal debts. What little remains in the vaults is woefully inadequate for our needs.”
Carlos continued his valiant effort to remain calm, “Presumably the rest of this gold still exists somewhere? It cannot just have disappeared.”
“Indeed it does my lord. It has been removed by the merchants themselves and taken to their own private vaults to prevent us having access to it.”
“Jesus Christ! God in Heaven!” he bellowed. “Did you hear that, Quijada? What kind of treason do we have here? To prevent us having access; unable to touch Spanish gold! That the king, that the country may not have it when the need is so great!”
“Disgraceful, unacceptable. Yet there is every reason to expect its return, my lord. I remain optimistic.” Quijada certainly sounded positive. “They have yet to hear from you, and I honestly believe that the merchants will sing a different song as soon as they do.”
Gomez’s spirits were lifted hearing this optimism, “You have echoed my hopes exactly. This is why I am here, to beg not only your wisdom and experience but the power of your voice. I am only concerned that I had at first to be the cause of your displeasure in order to obtain your help.”
“Gomez, not only have you come to the right place but by God you have come to the right man! You have rekindled the fight in me. You will see that this old man can do more from his sick bed than many an able bodied ruler. And rest assured I feel no ill will to you the messenger.”
Quijada’s words had stirred up an almost forgotten strength and resolve in him. “Gaztelu prepare to write some letters. The princess regent shall be informed of our intent. You will state at the outset that were it not for my infirmities I would go to Seville myself. I would personally sort out the lot of those bastard merchants. Tell her that I intend, nevertheless, to
have them all brought to justice. I order their immediate arrest; they are to be clapped in irons, thrown into the dungeons … I want them tortured to within an inch of their lives, whilst I contemplate with pleasure every imagined scream. You can use any other expression of this sort provided it is blood curdling and terrifying. Follow it up with an apology to her for my intemperate language. Secondly, you will tell the princess that when the next fleet is expected to return with a shipment of bullion she is to order a ship to set out with explicit orders to intercept it. All, and I mean all, the gold will be brought into the safekeeping of the Royal Treasury. That will teach the bastards a lesson! Give my apologies for my not writing this in my own hand but because of the gout …”
He thought for a moment. “When that is done you will write to the various bishops, convents, etc. etc., and tell them I want gold advanced immediately for the war in Italy. A copy of that letter is also to go the princess.”
Carlos turned to Gomez, “As soon as that money comes in you can despatch it to Alba. We must not keep him from important duties, must we? Damn fine general, Alba, probably the best, a bit too much on the cautious side, but he is successful for all that. Just so long as he is kept out of government, too powerful a man, but I have warned Felipe about that side of him. I know you and Alba do not always see eye to eye …”
“Two different schools of thought, mrd, different approaches, nothing more.”
“Ever the diplomat, eh? No matter. So, what do you think of our strategies?” Carlos sat back immensely impressed with himself.
“My lord, how can we ever thank you enough. But there is just one more request. Spain needs you. Sire, will you not consider returning to the helm of our gallant ship?”
A Matter of Pride Page 6