A Tear for the Dead Page 24

  The air was cool and he saw Helena shiver. The year was slipping towards its end and snow crept further down the face of the Sholayr to mark the passage of the days.

  “You should go inside.”

  “I would, but you are out here.” She reached out a hand and Thomas took it, holding it within both of his.

  “Shall I make up a bed for you?”

  “I would prefer to share yours, if you will have me.”

  “Everything within these walls is yours, Thomas. I want you to share my bed. I have ever since I came to know what a good man you are.” She leaned closer and kissed him, her lips soft. “I have not always been good to you, and for that I apologise.” She cocked her head to one side. “Is this for one night only, or more?”

  “More, I hope.”

  “As do I.”

  Helena smiled and rose to her feet, her hand still in his.

  “Come and warm me up, Thomas. Let us see if we can remember how we once fitted together to make our beautiful son.”

  As she pulled her hand from his and walked towards the house, Thomas watched her go, aware of what she had just revealed to him, of what she had confirmed. Will was his son. His true son. He rose and followed her, something breaking loose in his chest as if the last piece of ice had melted from his heart.

  Thomas came awake slowly from a deep place, deeper than he had slept in a long time.

  “Can you not wait until morning?” he said as he opened his eyes to discover Helena leaning over him.

  “Something is going on in the city.” She shook him again, even though he was starting to sit up.

  Thomas slipped from bed and padded to the small window. He opened it, but heard nothing … and then he did. Distantly, coming from below. The sound of shouting, and then a sharp crack as someone fired a musket. He turned from the window and started to dress, then stopped.

  “Are my own clothes still here?”

  “In the other room, there was not space for them here as well as mine.”

  Thomas went through and pulled back a curtain. Everything he once wore hung from hooks and he dressed quickly. When he came out, a still naked Helena blocked his way.

  “Stay, Thomas, this is not your responsibility.”

  “I am only going to see what is happening. Go back to bed, I will return soon.” He gripped her shoulders and kissed her mouth, recalling the long kisses, and more, they had shared only a few hours before. The remembrance of them almost made him change his mind. He eased Helena to one side and descended the narrow staircase.

  In the alley, the sound of fighting was louder and he smelled burning. The noise came from below and he ran across the cobbles. Other men emerged from doorways, but by the time they called out to ask what was happening, Thomas was already past. He emerged into Hattabin square to find a throng milling about. He stopped a man who seemed to be trying to organise some of the others.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Castile has sent a force into the city and they are attacking the great mosque. I am trying to get enough men together to drive them back, but most here are too old, or too afraid.” He looked at Thomas and frowned. “You are Thomas Berrington, are you not? I hear you can fight. Help me.”

  “We will need more than the two of us. Where are the palace’s men?”

  “Still abed, or scared.”

  “If Olaf hears this noise, he will bring them down, but it takes time to gather a force. They will descend on the other side of the square, so gather anyone willing to fight and wait there.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Find out what is happening.”

  Thomas strode across the square in the direction of the noise. As he entered the wide road leading to the mosque, people moved past in the opposite direction. Some ran, others walked more slowly, looking behind for pursuers.

  Thomas grabbed a man. “Where are they?”

  “There is an army led by a madman. He is trying to climb the wall of the mosque.”

  “Is anyone fighting them?”

  The man pulled from Thomas’s grip and ran off, leaving him unsure what to do next. He advanced cautiously, stopping at each corner to check he wasn’t about to walk into an ambush. As he entered the wide square surrounding the great mosque, he saw the attackers. They were surprisingly few, less than a score, and they had stopped making so much noise. Thomas recognised the man who appeared to be in charge as Perez de Pulgar, one of those who Isabel had spoken with only the day before, but he knew this was not her doing. The man took a large wooden panel from one of the others and dragged it to the mosque.

  Thomas moved closer, sure he could defend himself if need be, hoping the leader might recognise him in turn. Three men of Gharnatah rushed from a side street and attacked those on the left flank, but one was killed almost at once and the others retreated.

  De Pulgar approached the wide door of the mosque and knelt before it.

  Thomas was confused. The man appeared to be praying to Allah. Which was impossible.

  He crept closer to hear the last of the words spoken. De Pulgar was claiming the mosque as a Christian church, dedicating it to the blessed Virgin. He rose to his feet and picked up the wooden board, drew his dagger and nailed the board to the door of the mosque before turning away.

  Thomas thought it was all over and the attackers would retreat, but after milling around for a moment, they started directly towards where Thomas stood in a doorway. He could hear de Pulgar passing orders to his men. They were to search out anyone, man, woman or child, and make an example of them. Only Moors lived here, he said. They all deserved to die.

  As the small group approached the doorway where Thomas hid, one of them saw him and gave a loud cry. The others stopped and turned.

  Thomas hesitated, then tried to open the door behind him, but it was locked. He stepped into the roadway. When the man who had first seen him attacked, Thomas feinted one way, then brought him down with a fearsome blow. He knelt and took the man’s sword. By the time he rose, the others had organised themselves and stood in a semi-circle in front of him.

  “I know you,” said de Pulgar. “You were with the Queen yesterday.”

  “And I know you. What are you doing here?”

  “God’s work.” The man glanced at his felled companion. “Join us, sir, for we have more work to do tonight. You can replace the man you killed.”

  “He has lost his wits, nothing more. And I would advise you to leave as fast as you can. There are few of you, and word will have reached the palace by now.”

  “We are none of us cowards.”

  “Then you will die brave men, for there is no other choice unless you leave.”

  De Pulgar spat on the ground and shook his head. “I never liked you, Berrington.” He waved a hand at his men. “Kill him.”

  Thomas struck first, but his blade was deflected. He was stepping back, preparing to tackle however many he could, when there came a bellow of rage and Olaf Torvaldsson appeared at the head of the street.

  “Two men to kill, then,” said de Pulgar. “And the bigger, the better.”

  As Olaf approached, more men poured into the roadway behind him, a hundred, then two. They came silently, dark eyes catching what little light came from burning lamps set in the walls. By the time Olaf reached Thomas, all the attackers had fled.

  “Why is it when there is trouble, you are always the first to find it?” Olaf watched as his men streamed after the retreating attackers. “Are those men mad to think they can come into this city and fight?”

  Thomas approached the mosque to see what was nailed there. He grabbed a torch from a niche and held it up so he could read the words burned into the wooden board.

  Ave Maria. Writ large and gilded with yellow paint. It was the ultimate insult.

  Olaf strode to the door and reached up. His first attempt did nothing, but his second brought the wooden board down. He laid it on the ground and raised his foot, then stopped to pick it up again.

&n
bsp; “They will pay for this with their blood,” he said.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Thomas walked up the dark hillside beside Olaf. He had decided not to return to his own house. The chaotic attack by de Pulgar had unsettled him, and he wanted to lie between his children and take comfort in their presence. Already the hours he had spent with Helena seemed dreamlike.

  “It was lucky you arrived when you did,” he said as they approached Olaf’s door. “I don’t know what would have become of me if you had not. De Pulgar would be happy to see me dead. He was the leader of the attack, by the way.” Thomas didn’t know if Olaf was familiar with the man.

  “I know of him,” said Olaf. “He has a reputation which tonight he reinforced.” Olaf looked down at the banner still held in his hand as though it weighed no more than a twig. “Something will have to be done, and done soon. I cannot leave this insult to lie.”

  “Take care. I suspect he came to deface the mosque in order to incite the rage of the city. He hopes it will force any retaliation to be done in haste.”

  “It has to be soon. Tomorrow if I can work out a plan. How did you know of the attack? Did you hear about it before you came here?”

  “Do you not think I would have warned you if I had? I knew no more than you. Helena woke me and I came to find out what the noise was all about.”

  “Helena woke you?” said Olaf.

  “Yes.”

  Olaf looked across the barracks square to where two soldiers stood on watch.

  “It is good you and she are reconciled.” He turned to Thomas. “Is it permanent?”

  “It may be. I hope so.”

  “Why now and not before?”

  “I expect I am ready now, and she has changed. You and Jorge told me that and I didn’t believe it, but now I have seen the change for myself.”

  “That is good, Thomas. Your children need a mother.”

  “She confirmed something else to me tonight I have never been certain of before. She told me Will is both my son and hers.”

  “Will has always been your son.”

  “Did she tell you?”

  “I only have to look at him to see he is yours. Can you not see it yourself?”

  “Perhaps I haven’t allowed myself to see it because she withheld the certainty from me.” Thomas looked at Olaf. He could also see him in Will. “Do you think this change in her will last?”

  “Jorge is a better man to ask, you will get more sense from him than me. But remember, do not think about it too much. You do that more than is good for a man. If she changes, she changes. In the meantime, she will prove a pleasant companion for you and a distraction from the responsibilities Isabel places on you.”

  “She has sent me to meet Abu Abdullah in the morning,” Thomas shook his head, “today, I suppose, to discuss the details of a meeting where the city’s surrender will be the only topic.”

  Olaf smiled. “I heard rumours of such.”

  “Will you accept a surrender?”

  “It is not up to me whether or not to accept. I do as ordered. If the Sultan tells me to fight, I will fight. If he tells me not to, I will find something else to do.”

  “If the meeting goes ahead, I want you there. Isabel has agreed a small force from either side to ensure mutual safety. She knows you and trusts your honour.”

  “Who will be on the other side? Fernando? I do not trust his.”

  Thomas took a breath and decided he had gone too far to hold anything back. He knew Olaf would never utter a word of their conversation to anyone.

  “Fernando doesn’t agree with her, but will go along with her plan for now. Perhaps he wants her to fail so he can save the day. Or raze Gharnatah to the ground. Which is why she must succeed.”

  “She plays a dangerous game.”

  “She does, but it is an essential one. She admires Gharnatah and doesn’t want to see it destroyed. You were with us in Malaka and saw what happened there. This city’s end has to be different.”

  “What of Abu Abdullah?”

  “She will offer him something. I suggested the Alpujarras, he can’t cause too much trouble over there.”

  “Fernando will want him dead.”

  “And Isabel does not.”

  Olaf stared at Thomas. “Who will be the victor between them?”

  “Isabel. I walked with her yesterday and saw the awe she instils in her soldiers. The army respects Fernando, but they love Isabel. Though she can be harsh when she needs to be. Stubborn too. She always gets what she wants.”

  “At one time I thought it might be you she wanted.” Olaf gave a shake of his head at such a strange idea, then clapped Thomas on the shoulder. “I am glad that two of the women you loved have been my daughters. Come and see if you can sleep for a while. We all need to be sharp come morning.”

  “I have to go back to her before noon.”

  “Helena?”

  “Isabel.”

  Olaf glanced at the sky, but there was no hint to show the new day was near.

  “Then come and sleep while you can. I will wake you when I rise if you are not already up. Amal and Will are in the small room so you will have to share the space with them.”

  “It is what I intended.”

  Olaf gave a nod of approval.

  Thomas removed his cloak and lay on the bedding arranged on the stone floor. Amal continued to sleep when he slid between them, but Will rolled over and opened his eyes.

  “Where did you go?”

  “To our house.”

  “Why didn’t you take us?”

  “There was something I needed to find out.”

  “Did you?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good.” Will closed his eyes.

  Thomas stared at his son. Helena’s revelation changed everything. It had ripped away the scab of uncertainty he had carried for too long and left him at ease, at least for tonight. He stared at Will’s face, searching for features that confirmed her words, but he was no good at such arts. Others said Will resembled him, but he had always dismissed their words. Now he would have to listen more closely.

  When Thomas returned to his other house beyond the Castilian camp to leave his children, Jorge insisted on coming with him when he went to see Isabel.

  “You can’t come inside with me,” Thomas said.

  “I have no intention of doing so. I will talk with the soldiers while you are busy doing whatever it is you two do with your time. Something boring, no doubt.”

  “I’m sure you would consider it so.”

  As they walked side by side down the shallow slope, a thought occurred to Thomas.

  “Why on earth do you want to talk to the soldiers?”

  “They are always the ones who know what’s happening.”

  “Be careful, then. De Pulgar attacked the mosque in Gharnatah last night, and I suspect word has spread by now. No doubt the entire army is full of a false sense of achievement.”

  “He reached as far as the mosque?”

  “I saw him with my own eyes. And he saw me.”

  “He is Fernando’s man. I am amazed you are still alive, but you are always a constant surprise to me.”

  Thomas suppressed a smile. “I spent the night in my house.”

  “I should have come with you, then. I like that house. When Castile destroys it, ask Britto to build you another the same. Or you can come and live with me and Belia in Da’ud’s old house.”

  “I spent the night with Helena.”

  Jorge stopped walking so abruptly, Thomas was a dozen paces beyond him before he realised he was alone and turned back.

  “You what?” Jorge shook his head. “About time is all I can say. Was she as good as you remembered?”

  Thomas wondered whether or not to lie, but was aware something had broken loose inside. Now he soared like an eagle above all the concerns that had once seemed to constrain his life and decisions.

  He smiled. “Better.”

  “Damn, Thomas, in that case,
I’m surprised you’re still alive. When did you decide?”

  “Only when I went there. Or perhaps long ago. I don’t know, only that when I saw her, the decision was already made.”

  “Was she glad to see you? Did you make her scream in ecstasy?”

  “She was glad to see me, but the rest is none of your business.”

  “Ah well, I expect if I explain a few techniques to you, she might scream one day. Is this reconciliation permanent?”

  “I believe so. If I want it to be.”

  Jorge shook his head again and started to walk. They split up outside the white-walled building Isabel used and Thomas entered, expecting her to be with her advisers, but he saw Theresa who told him Isabel was free and eating a midday meal in the courtyard.

  She looked up when Thomas entered and smiled a greeting before turning back to a sparse plate holding fruit, berries and nuts.

  “I hope someone tasted all of those before you started to eat.” Thomas pulled out a chair and sat beside her. Too close, but Isabel made no protest. Instead, she picked up a dark mulberry and offered it to him. Thomas took it into his mouth, the sharp sweetness delicious.

  Isabel widened her eyes. “Oh no! Now we might both die.” She gave a small laugh. “Your friend Belia picked these and gave them to Theresa. I think the two are becoming good friends. I like it that your family and mine are forging ever closer bonds. Belia said I should send my children to play with your children and hers.” She looked into Thomas’s eyes. “How is such possible when he is a eunuch?”

  “They must have had help from someone.”

  “Mm.”

  Thomas accepted another sweet offering, then wiped his mouth.

  “I assume you know about the attack last night?”

  “Fernando took great delight in calling it a magnificent victory. He told me he wanted to take part in the raid himself, but I told him he could not.”

  “Have you heard what they did?”

  “A fast attack into the city to show they could, and then they escaped. Most of them.”

  “I was there,” Thomas said. “It was a well-planned assault intended to spit in the eye of their God. They nailed a banner to the door of the great mosque.”