A Divided Inheritance (55 page)

A few moments later he was back. ‘Eat without him, he says.’

Zachary exchanged an enquiring look with Elspet, but she merely shrugged.

Luisa ladled out the stew. He watched how she tipped it carefully into the bowls so as not to waste a drop, tilting the spoon against the edge of the pot, and how she made sure her
father’s bowl was filled and he had his spoon before she dealt with her own.

‘Let us say grace,’ said Etienne.

There was a silence. Nobody wanted to invoke anyone’s God.

Luisa cut the bread and offered it round. Her hand touched Zachary’s as she passed it over, and he felt the intensity of her touch like a bee sting.

Alexander handed Elspet the salt crock. ‘Anyone else?’ said Elspet.

‘Yes, pass it over,’ Zachary said, and he and Pedro started to discuss the use of pikes rather too loudly. Etienne scowled and mumbled the Latin grace to himself. Zachary tore off
some bread and crammed it into his mouth, tasting the savoury salt-taste of the beans, and the floury texture of the bread. Like the rest, he was hungry and for a moment there was no sound.

He paused, spoon held to lips. A chant from inside, a discordant tone that rose and fell, hardly taking space for breath. The hairs stood up on the back of his arms. The sound of it went on, and
he knew it could only be Alvarez yet with all his might he did not want it to be him. He set down his spoon. Everyone else on the table was listening too, though they pretended not to. The sound
held them in thrall.

Zachary looked across at Nicolao. Big tears were rolling down his cheeks; Ayamena gripped his hand on the table, her knuckles white with it.

‘What? What is it, Papa?’ Luisa’s voice was cross.

‘The midday prayer,’ he whispered.

Barely was there time to register this, than there was a disturbance on the street. Dogs barked, followed by the muffled sound of baying voices, the rumble of cartwheels.

‘Quick!’ shouted Alexander. Everyone stood; Alexander rushed to pick up his sword belt and his buckler. Zachary followed, unsure what was happening. A pounding at the courtyard door.
He looked around for Alvarez, but still he did not appear.

An apprentice hurried out of the house, and Nicolao gestured him to the door. More knocking. From outside came the shout of, ‘Open this door by proclamation of the King.’ In the yard
Alvarez’s men scurried to gather and put on arms.

‘Get into the house!’ Zachary shouted to Luisa, but there was no time. The door burst open, breaking the bar like kindling, and the yard filled with armed musketeers. Ayamena grabbed
Husain by the hand and dragged him kicking into the kitchen. Elspet took hold of Nicolao’s arm to try to steer him into the house, but he would not move, just strained his head to one side to
hear what was happening, his heels dug into the ground.

A man dressed in black stepped forward. Behind him was massed a cohort of armoured soldiers. Zachary took stock of them. He knew straight away his button-ended foil would be useless against
these men, but still could not let it drop to his side. One of the men arrested his attention. Don Rodriguez, armed with a musket, staring straight at him from beneath his helmet.

The man said, ‘There are Moriscos in this domicile, and we are here to take their goods, by order of the King’s proclamation.’ He rattled off the words as if he had said them
many times before. ‘I must also advise you that we will be back at dawn to take the livestock if it has not been sold or slaughtered by then.’

‘But sir, we will not be ready for at least another week,’ Nicolao protested. ‘The proclamation said twenty days. We are not prepared yet, we still have goods to
sell.’

‘You must have misunderstood,’ said the King’s man. He turned to look behind him to exchange a complicit look with Don Rodriguez, before stating baldly, ‘It is too late
for that. The Moriscos of Triana will be moving down to the port tomorrow. You will leave tomorrow or the next day.’

‘Excuse me, sir,’ Elspet stepped forward, attempting the voice of reason, ‘but can you return later?’

Zachary had to admire her nerve, standing up to this official with his army ranked behind him.

She carried on, ‘I will help the family sort their belongings—’

‘No. You do not understand. That is not possible. If they are reluctant, then my men will remove their goods by force. Besides, this is a school of fence, is it not?’

Don Rodriguez gave a derisive snort from behind him.

Zachary moved to put himself between Elspet and the men, and put up his foil. ‘It is. And a very good one.’

Don Rodriguez ignored the rapier. ‘Aha, the hothead Englishman. He seems to want six years in the galley. Well, it won’t be a school of fence with no weapons, will it? We have orders
to confiscate all arms.’ He grinned. ‘We’ll start with the cutlery. It’s probably all these men are fit to wield anyway.’

Zachary sprang forward in indignation, but Alexander took hold of his arm.

‘Let me go, you ass!’ Zachary twisted to get loose, but Alexander held him firm.

‘Don’t be a fool,’ Alexander hissed, ‘we’re outnumbered. And you can’t fight with that. Wait for Alvarez – he’ll give the orders.’

‘Leave off!’ Zachary struggled, but the bigger man pinned down his sword arm with both hands.

‘How many Moriscos live here?’ barked the King’s man.

Zachary looked at the ground. Nobody answered. When he looked up, Rodriguez had lifted his musket to his shoulder.

‘Four,’ Etienne replied hurriedly. ‘The Ortega family. The father and mother, the girl Luisa, and her brother.’

‘Bring those people forward. They’re for Barbary. I need to check them on my list to arrange transportation. Four from this house, you say?’

Zachary started to protest, but his voice was drowned by another.

‘No, five.’

Zachary turned and gaped.

‘Señor –?’ Only Alexander spoke, but the words died on his lips.

From the corner of his eye Zachary saw Elspet’s stricken face, her hands had jumped to her mouth.

Señor Alvarez seemed somehow even taller. He addressed them all with a deprecating shrug of his arms. ‘I will go with the Ortegas. They are my kindred. I would not have them go with
no protection.’

Don Rodriguez dropped his musket from his shoulder and walked towards Señor Alvarez. ‘Just as I thought, you’re a sham. I knew it straight away. Carranza could see it too.
That’s why he gave his blessing to Pacheco. Dirty blood is always dirty blood.’ He turned to Zachary and Alexander who were too shocked to move. ‘You stupid, gullible men. The
English and Dutch cannot see what’s in front of their pointy noses. His sword school is useless. Look at him – you thought to learn the sword from
that
?’ He spat at the
señor’s feet.

Señor Alvarez did not react, except for a slight tightening of his lips.

‘You bastard!’ Zachary lunged forwards towards Rodriguez but Alexander restrained him by the shoulders.

‘Think, man,’ Alexander hissed at him. ‘Use your intelligence, not your anger.’

Zachary took a few ragged breaths. The señor was talking gently to Ayamena. ‘They will not permit me arms. But I have some coin and gold set aside. When the time comes we will
travel together. Now go. I will deal with these men. Go gather your warmest clothing, stout footwear. Get provisions for the journey, bread and cheeses. And make sure the little one has his
slate.’ Ayamena hurried inside, beckoning to Elspet to follow.

Elspet did not move. She looked as if she did not understand what was happening. She walked over to the señor too stiffly, as if she had a rod in her spine. ‘Are you telling us
you’re leaving?’

He smiled gently. ‘I’m sorry, Mistress Leviston. It appears I will have no choice.’

‘But I—’

He hushed her, and took her hand. He spoke softly, not taking his eyes from her white face. ‘There is something rare between us, is there not?’ She nodded dumbly. ‘Wherever I
am, that will still be there. Perhaps we will meet again, eh, who knows?’

He lifted her hand and his lips lingered there a moment. Her face suffused with colour.

Zachary felt the strength of emotion in Elspet and a bolt of recognition pierced his heart. Luisa and Ayamena were still standing half-behind the kitchen door. He swivelled to catch
Luisa’s eye.

‘Search the house.’ The order moved the troops into action. Zachary’s sword was wrenched from his grasp.

As the men swarmed over the house Luisa rushed to Zachary’s side and threw her arms around him. He held her slight frame tightly to his chest, his hand on the soft plait of hair at the
back of her head, as if he would weld her presence to him. ‘Go inside,’ he said, ‘go and find your brother. He’ll be scared. Don’t worry, I won’t leave
you.’

Soon the yard was full of piles of swords and goods. There was not a damned thing they could do. There were just too many soldiers. Zachary felt the helplessness and anger wash over him just as
it had when he was a child, but all he could do was watch and grit his teeth. The yard looked like a giant bonfire with everything hurled there all higgledy-piggledy. The soldiers loaded everything
that was not on their persons on to carts. Outside in the street beggars seized upon any oddments that fell to the ground with greedy hands. Zachary flinched as a basket went by with one of
Alvarez’s precious books wedged between dripping oil lamps and half-burnt logs from the upstairs fireplace.

‘Shall we take this?’ one of the men asked, indicating the table.

Rodriguez answered, ‘Yes. But we must allow them to eat. Take the knives and bowls and tip the food on the ground. They like to sit on the ground to eat, so I’m told.’

When the yard was empty the guards shouldered their muskets.

‘Be ready at noon tomorrow.’ The King’s man gave the order and the wagons, with their carrion crowd running after, teetered away down the street.

In the middle of the yard the bread lay in the mud, next to the mess of stew emptied from its bowl. The congealed mess had the imprint of a boot pressed into it where someone had trodden in
their haste to leave.

Elspet appeared tense-faced at the kitchen door. Señor Alvarez looked as though he might speak to her, but then he shook his head and walked up the stone stairs to the upstairs room.

Zachary saw her whole frame sag. He called to her, ‘Elspet!’ But she shut the door deliberately.

If he was going to go with Luisa, it was time to tell her the truth.

Elspet dare not think, did not know what to do, so she set to sweeping. Señor Alvarez was leaving, and she had left it too late. He admired her and it was too late.

‘Elspet, have you a moment?’ Zachary’s voice broke into her thoughts.

‘Will it not wait?’ Elspet said. The last thing she wanted right now was a conversation with Zachary Deane.

‘No. I need to speak with you now. Whilst I have the courage.’ She wiped her hands on her skirts and put down the broom. She attempted to talk, to return to normality, though the
words seemed empty. ‘I can’t believe it’s all over. Look at the place. Not a stick of furniture left. Broken pots and mud everywhere. And the Ortegas –’

‘Please. Can we go upstairs to the library and talk?’

‘If we must.’ She hoped he was going to talk of Señor Alvarez, so she followed him up the stairs to the library. Her throat was tight as she saw the familiar balcony, the
empty shelves, and realized that soon the señor would be gone from her life. Everything was breaking up. She swallowed, determined that Zachary should not see her cry.

They stood in the bare room, the silence hovering between them. She realized it was the first time she had actually properly looked into Zachary’s face. He appeared strained, his sharp
features even sharper.

‘I don’t know how I can break this to you after all this time,’ he said, ‘but I feel I must. I will be leaving too, with the Ortegas. I can’t go on deceiving you
any longer. I am not your brother. I am no relation to you at all.’

So he was disowning her completely. She looked at him coldly. ‘I know you dislike me, but you do not need to be so cruel. I suppose you will tell me now that you have decided to sell the
business after all. Have I not enough to contend with? I have just lost . . .’ She struggled to compose herself, her voice came out as a croak – ‘everything.’ He started to
speak again, but she spoke over him, ‘I have no time for this, if you are going to dredge up our disagreement again. Ayamena needs me. Excuse me.’ She twitched her skirts to the side
and rushed headlong towards the door.

‘Stop!’ He grabbed her by the shoulder; she twisted away to free herself.

‘How dare you!’

‘I’m sorry.’ He let go. ‘This wasn’t how I meant it to . . . look, I’m sorry.’ His apology disarmed her. She paused a moment, and he launched in,
‘I’ve lied to you. I need to ask your forgiveness.’

She turned to face him. She was wary. Why should she trust him? What did he want?

His face was serious, his hands clasped together before his chest. ‘You’ve got to listen. I meant it. I’m not your brother. I have never been any relation to you at all. I lied
to you, and I lied to your father.’ He repeated, ‘Elspet, I’m not your brother.’