A Tear for the Dead Read online

  “If only to put her mind at rest. De Pamplona administered the poison meant for her, but Eleanor was the mastermind behind the planning. She would have happily killed you and them. You know what that means, don’t you? With them both dead, the threat against Isabel is over. She can concentrate on winning the war, and I believe the sooner she does so, the better. Then we can start rebuilding our lives. She will no doubt give you a position in the new Gharnatah. We can spend the rest of our days living in luxury in the palace.”

  “She won’t offer me any position,” Thomas said. “Even if she does, I am minded to turn her down. My job will be over when Gharnatah falls.”

  “Believe what you want, she won’t let you go now.”

  As they came out through a pass, the land sloped away to the wide vega. When they had left three days before, it had been verdant with crops: mulberry, olive, sugar cane and rice growing beneath the sun while water channels irrigated every field. Now the land lay black as far as the eye could see and smoke stung Thomas’s eyes and lungs. It reminded him of the billowing inferno of the house they had torched—the bodies of Eleanor, Baldomero, his wife and the men he and Usaden had killed piled inside. He had watched it burn, and then ridden away without a second thought. It was a chapter of his life that had ended. The book closed.

  He drew his tagelmust across his face, but it did little good. Soldiers and others with burning torches scoured the land, setting fire to any remaining crops. It was a vision from hell, the men’s faces blackened with soot, their hands the same.

  They rode into Santa Fe and returned the horses to the stables. Thomas wondered if he should ask someone to take them back to Gharnatah, but decided there was little point. Everything that belonged to Gharnatah would soon belong to Castile.

  As they approached the newly built quarters where Isabel was housed, Thomas knew he ought to bathe before seeing her.

  Jorge leaned across and touched Thomas’s arm. “Don’t confront Isabel about the burning. You need time to reflect on what you have done and consider your next actions. Spend time with your children. Let them wash your soul clean before you decide.”

  “My soul is already clean, and she will expect me.”

  “Not everything revolves around you, Thomas. She will only expect you if she knows you are here. Our house is only half a league away.”

  Thomas stopped walking. He looked behind, but there was no sign of either Usaden or Kin. He suspected they were already on their way to the small farmhouse Isabel had assigned him. Jorge was right, he knew, but years of duty continued to bind his actions.

  “Go to the house. Tell them I will be there by nightfall. Ask Belia to prepare a feast.”

  Jorge shook his head as he walked away. Thomas watched him go, then turned and entered Isabel’s quarters to let her know she was safe. But as he strode along the corridor, a stocky figure emerged from a room and blocked his path. Fernando, King of Aragon and Castile. Another figure hovered just inside the shade within the door. Another of Fernando’s conquests, flaunted here in the same building that housed his wife. Thomas could smell the smoke on the man, though he must have washed his face for it was clean and wore a scowl.

  “I wondered when you would come skulking back. She doesn’t want to see you.”

  “I have news for her and would rather she tell me the same, if it is true.”

  Fernando took a pace closer, always happy to invade others’ space.

  “Are you saying you doubt my word?”

  “Not at all, Your Grace, but my news is for the Queen alone.”

  “Then try again tomorrow. She is with her advisors. That fool Columb has been here making threats.”

  “He needs your money too much to make threats.”

  “He needs someone’s money. He claims both France and England will fund his crazed expedition. Well, let them pour their gold into the depths of the great western ocean, Castile and Aragon will be all the richer. Now, I have men to see.” Fernando made no move, and Thomas knew he would not until he turned and left the building. He was about to do just that when the shadowed figure moved and Thomas experienced a shock of recognition. The woman was Salma, a sheet clutched against her naked body. She wanted him to see her, wanted him to see how close she was to the power in this land. Thomas glanced at Fernando to see a smirk on the man’s face. It was all he could do not to punch him.

  He was half way to his house when a familiar voice hailed him. He slowed and turned to see Christof Columb trotting towards him. Thomas had grown used to the man’s ideas and no longer considered them those of a lunatic, as he first had. His own research led him to believe the man misguided, but not altogether wrong.

  Columb came forwards with his rolling mariner’s gait, a frown on his face.

  “I thought it was you. I hear you work for the Queen now.”

  “Apparently so, but Fernando turned me away.”

  “As have I been, though not by the King himself. I have attempted to see her several times over the last week and each time has been the same. Can I buy you wine? I would like to talk.”

  “I’m on my way home, so come with me. Stay for dinner, though you will have to put up with my children’s questions.”

  Columb gave a smile. “I like the questions of children. They ask them in a spirit of innocence rather than to trap a man.”

  As they approached the house set apart on rough ground that remained unmolested, too poor to grow crops on, Will walked down the track to greet them. Kin bounded from the house and ran past him and Columb came to a sudden halt.

  Thomas laughed. “Fear not, he only eats rabbits and wicked men.”

  “What if he thinks I am a wicked man?”

  “Then I will tell him otherwise.”

  Columb didn’t look convinced, but started up again, veering away to avoid Kin as much as possible.

  “Jorge said you were coming home today, Father, but I didn’t believe him.”

  Thomas couldn’t recall when Will had started calling him Father, only that it was recent. It felt like a distancing between them, but perhaps it was Will’s way of letting him know he also felt that distance. The boy was growing into a man, his size and strength bringing that change early. Thomas knew he hadn’t seen enough of his children the last year and determined that would end today.

  It took a day and a half before Thomas realised his shoulders were no longer tense and his back had stopped aching. He put it down to a number of things. Usaden had not once asked him to train, Belia had massaged him after insisting he wash first, and Amal had spent most of her time either curled against him or kissing his face. Even Will had spent time with him, and Thomas found pleasure in seeing the changes in the boy—though how much longer he could continue to call him a boy was becoming hard to judge.

  “I liked that sailor,” said Will. They were walking through the hills north of the house, Kin ranging ahead in search of something to bring down and kill. Thomas had four plump rabbits slung on a leather thong over his shoulder. “Is he really planning to sail across the western ocean?”

  “He is.”

  Will shook his head at the foolishness of the idea. Everyone knew the ocean was endless.

  “When are you going back to Isabel?”

  “Tomorrow most likely, and you should at least try to call her Queen Isabel.”

  “She told me I didn’t need to. Nor Ami. I like her, and I know she likes you. It’s a shame about Fernando or you could marry her. We wouldn’t mind.”

  Thomas tried not to smile. “I think Fernando might well have something to say on the matter, and I would be a poor catch for a queen.”

  Will slowed to a halt and turned to face the wide plain. The fires had stopped smouldering, but the landscape remained blackened. Now and then a sudden gust of wind lifted the sooty remains to spiral them through the air.

  “Can I come with you when you go?”

  “Why?” Thomas found the smile harder to hide this time.

  “I like her children. E
ven Juan and the mad one, though I think she might like me too much.”

  “You like one more than the others, don’t you?” This time the smile came to the surface.

  Will scowled. “We have become friends. She is the cleverest of them all, despite being the youngest. Juanna is a little crazy, and Maria quiet, but I like them both well enough.”

  Thomas wondered if the moment had come he had spoken of with Jorge. It was a strange place to have the conversation, but have it they would.

  “You know there can be nothing but friendship between you and Isabel’s daughters.”

  “Tell that to Juanna, not me, but I have no intention of marrying them, Father. I’m not a fool. We’re friends, that is all. Like you and Isabel are friends.”

  Thomas wondered if Will was aware of what he had said and suspected perhaps he was. Already his son was growing too clever for him.

  “Are you still going to work for her when Gharnatah falls?” Will asked.

  “I expect so, if she asks. I need to talk to you about something. About you and Juanna and the other girls.”

  “If it’s about sex, Jorge has already explained it to me. Probably explained more than I wanted to know, but at least now I know all about it. So don’t worry, Father, I won’t accost Juanna or anyone else.” A fleeting smile touched Will’s lips. “Not even if they beg me.”

  “You will find someone when the time is right.” Thomas wondered when this talk had taken place between Jorge and Will. “You are a handsome man, and there will be girls out there who want to hold you close, so take care and choose well.”

  “Like you did with Ma?”

  Thomas nodded. He took a breath, not sure he could answer because there came a sudden tightness in his chest, but he knew he had to.

  “Yes, like I did with Ma.” He glanced at Will, who continued to look out across the destruction Fernando had wrought. “You know Lubna wasn’t your real mother, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Helena birthed me, but Ma was always Ma. Helena likes you too.” Will shook his head at the strangeness of the concept of all these women liking his father. “She is different now, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, I believe she is.”

  “You can be with her if you want, me and Ami won’t mind. We love Belia, but she’s not a real Ma to us. We could grow to love Helena if we tried.”

  “You could, could you?”

  “So, are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Going to be with Helena? You don’t have to marry her, I don’t think she expects that.”

  “Jorge did have a good talk with you, didn’t he?”

  Will gave a sharp nod. “He did.” He turned and took a few paces up the slope before stopping again. “Who’s that up there?”

  Thomas turned. A lone rider was outlined against the sky where he stood on the ridge. Thomas narrowed his eyes, but couldn’t make out any features.

  “It looks like Yves,” said Will. “My brother Yves.” He looked at Thomas. “You have children all over the world, don’t you? What would you do if I did the same? Not yet, of course, but I’m already feeling things I haven’t before. Jorge explained those to me as well and told me what I could do if they get too strong. Why is Yves watching us?”

  “Are you sure it’s him?”

  “Pretty sure, yes. He holds himself a bit like you, but not so upright. And he looks a little like you. Do I look like you?”

  Thomas turned and looked at Will’s face. He wasn’t sure he did, and Helena still refused him any certainty.

  “You look like Olaf,” he said.

  “Everyone says that, but I want to look like you as well.” Will gave a tiny smile. “If you can get all these women to like you, then looking like you might not be so bad. Ami looks like Ma, doesn’t she?”

  “She does.”

  “It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, but some nights I still see the men attacking her in my dreams.”

  Thomas reached out and touched Will’s shoulder. “It’s good you remember her.”

  “I wish I had been as strong and fast as I am now because I would have killed them all and Ma would still be with us.”

  “You can’t change what has passed. Remember her as she was, remember how much she loved you, and change what you can so she is proud of you, proud of both of you. Make her even more proud of you.” Thomas found talking difficult again.

  “I will if I can.” Will didn’t try to hide his tears and Thomas pulled the boy against him. He looked over his head at the figure on the ridge-line. If it was Yves, he remained there without moving. Thomas couldn’t tell if he was watching them or not, but suspected he was.

  Thomas kissed the top of Will’s head. “All you can do is try your best. That is what she would want of you.”

  Later that night, after Yves had disappeared from the ridge, after Kin had caught three more rabbits and Belia had skinned and cooked two of them, after she and the children had gone to bed, Thomas sat beside Jorge with an almost empty flagon of wine between them and said, “Did I tell you Fernando has taken a new lover?”

  “You didn’t, but it comes as no surprise. Is it anyone I know? Is she beautiful?”

  “It’s Salma, so yes, she is beautiful.”

  Jorge hesitated, his wine glass halfway to his mouth.

  “Koparsh’s Salma? Can’t say I blame him, but he plays a dangerous game, as does she.”

  “She was in his room when I tried to get in to see Isabel. She must know about her, Fernando was blatant in displaying her to me.”

  “That man is too much led by his cock.”

  “Speaking of which, how much did you tell Will about sex?”

  “Everything a boy needs to know. I told him about love too, not just sex. I’m not as foolish as you might think me. It was what you wanted me to do, wasn’t it?”

  “It may have been, I forget.”

  “You forget nothing. He needs to know the consequences of what might happen. He is a handsome boy and will be an even more handsome man before too long. Even if he looks a little like you.”

  “Does he? I don’t see it.”

  “No, a father never does. It’s time your children had a new mother in their lives.”

  Thomas smiled. “Will said the same thing.”

  “You could ask Theresa, I’m sure she would say yes.”

  “I’m not sure she would anymore.”

  “Helena then. I believe her changed, and she would say yes. I know who you want to ask, but that is a dream and nothing more.”

  “Perhaps there is someone else out there for me.”

  “And perhaps Gharnatah will win this war. Accept what you can’t change, Thomas. You’re growing older and deserve to see out what years remain to you with a woman who loves you. Or can at least put up with you. Women like that are few and far between.”

  “What will you do when Gharnatah falls?”

  “Wait for you to ask me,” said Jorge.

  Thomas drained his glass and looked at Jorge. “Ask you what?”

  “To stay at your side.” Jorge laughed at Thomas’s expression. “And remember, I still need Belia to have a daughter. I daren’t ask anybody else.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The following morning, Thomas made his way into Santa Fe. Will accompanied him, but as they approached Isabel’s headquarters, Prince Juan emerged and they went off together, friends just as Will was with Isabel’s daughters. Well, perhaps not quite the same way. Thomas watched the pair stroll among the soldiers, his son towering over Juan, who was three years older. Thomas knew his son had been spending long hours walking among the gathered men, talking with them, working on his rapidly improving grasp of the Castilian language. Though some of the words he had picked up might cause eyebrows to rise in polite society.

  Other than the two men guarding the main entrance, who nodded Thomas through without a word, there were no others inside. Thomas knew Isabel considered herself safe among the throng of her army, but he was le
ss sure. He had mentioned it before and was sure he would mention it again with the same result. She would do as she saw fit. Which was why as he neared the room where he expected to find her, he was unsurprised to hear raised voices.

  Thomas stopped and leaned against the wall. He glanced in both directions, but saw nobody. He felt no guilt at eavesdropping. He considered it part of his job to look out for her, even if the man she was arguing with was her husband. Thomas had briefly held a suspicion that Fernando might have been the instigator behind the attempt to poison Isabel before dismissing it as being over-fearful. Relations between the two had been strained, but, he hoped, not enough for him to want her dead. Not yet, anyway … though listening to their raised voices, he began to wonder.

  So drawn by their argument was Thomas that he jumped when a hand touched his shoulder. He turned to discover Theresa, who offered the smile of a co-conspirator.

  “They’ve been at each other’s throats the last three days, ever since he returned. Where have you been?”

  “According to Jorge, healing my soul.”

  “And did it work?”

  “What do you think? Other than the arguments, how has she been?” Thomas kept his voice to a whisper and Theresa took his hand and led him away. The intimacy of the touch made him smile as he recalled Jorge’s other instruction. Living with Theresa would not be such a bad choice, and the children liked her. She led him into a side room before releasing his hand and turning to him. Too close again, as always. She had bathed recently, and Thomas caught the scent of soap and perfume. Her red hair shone and her skin was unblemished, her eyes clear.

  “What are they arguing about?”

  “Could you not tell? You were standing there long enough.”

  “I think they had moved beyond the primary subject and on to general insults.”

  “Isabel disagrees with how he is conducting the war, and Fernando accuses her of being too soft on the Moors. He even mentioned you and said she should banish you from her presence. He claims you are a spy.”

  “He doesn’t like me.”