Torquemada Read Free Page A

King’s men who were riding to hold a part of the border against the Moors.
    They all fell into the pace of the journey. They became easier with each other and easier with their words and, bit by bit, the hard mask of Torquemada softened. He sat with them when they roasted their food over a fire at the roadside. He stretched his legs in the inns and listened to the talk and to the stories, and the farther they got from Segovia, the fewer were the people who recognized him. He and Alvero talked a great deal about the old days and Juan listened to them respectfully.
    And then one day they topped a rise in the road and saw before them the walls of Seville.
    The following day Alvero and Juan dressed themselves in their best clothes and walked through Seville to the palace of Ferdinand and Isabella. In hose and doublet, wearing light half-armour of polished steel, chased with gold, the two men made a handsome sight. They were fine-looking Spanish gentlemen, and when they came to the palace they were recognized and greeted warmly by Don Louis Alvadan, who was Queen Isabella’s private secretary. He had been waiting for them and watching for them so that they would not lose themselves in the bustle and turmoil of the Court. Juan had never been to the King’s Court before and he watched the press of knights and ladies and diplomats and merchants and dukes and counts with excitement and delight.
    As Don Louis led them towards Isabella’s chambers, he explained to Alvero that their arrival was particularly fortuitous. The Queen, Don Louis said, had been discussing a matter of some importance with a Genoese sailor by the name of Christopher Columbus. Columbus had a notion of opening up some new and possibly very profitable trade routes for Spain. There were those who supported his ideas and those who thought him entirely mad. They entered Isabella’s chamber now and Don Louis dropped his voice and then cut short his explanation. He stood just inside the doorway, waiting, Alvero and Juan beside him.
    Alvero looked about the room and at his Queen with curiosity. The palace itself had been so recently conquered by the Spaniards that they were hardly settled there – almost like people at an inn. Isabella’s chamber had high-arched ceilings in the Moorish style, Moorish pillars and archways. The stone walls were draped with the banners and rugs of the House of Castile, and a wooden platform had been built so that the Queen might have a chair above the level of the floor. On this platform there were two chairs and a table – and the Queen herself was bent over the table, staring at maps. The man called Columbus stood next to her. In his late thirties, Columbus was tall, almost cadaverously lean, with deep hollows in his face that gave him a curiously aesthetic look. He could not restrain or conceal his passion, even in front of the Queen.
    It was two years since Alvero had seen the Queen. She was thirty-four now, a strange, reserved, imperious and almost sexless woman, who could nevertheless be curiously tender and very charming. Alvero knew that she had noted their entrance. Nevertheless, she did not raise her eyes; and her imperious voice, nagging and petulant, filled the chamber.
    â€œWhy, why, why, Signor Columbus? You arc becoming my own personal devil. You plead with me until your voice troubles my dreams. Why, why do I need an empire? Spain is large enough and never forget that part of this Holy Land is still held by the Moors.”
    â€œMy Lady, I abase myself,” Columbus answered. “I despise myself because I must disagree with you. Still I must say to you, my Queen, can you imprison a man’s dreams?”
    â€œDo I stop you from dreaming?”
    â€œThe dreaming is nothing, your Highness, the doing is all. You are the Queen of a great country. I offer you a world. I offer you an empire and you will be an Empress.”
    â€œI have discussed this matter with my learned men, so