Paradise & More (Torres Family Saga) (36 page)

      
Magdalena felt as if a great weight were crushing life and breath from her. So that was what those final hateful words were that Aliyah had called out to Aaron.
And he blames me, as always.

      
Aaron did not return to their bed that night, but went down to the pen where he kept the horses. He took Rubio and rode down the river in the silver moonlight. Magdalena lay staring at the night sky for sleepless hours, then rose and dressed with the first light of dawn. If it took abasing her vaunted Castilian pride to gain her husband his son, she would do so. If only she could sway the
cacique
and he his sister.

      
Dressing in her last clean under-tunic, she brushed her hair until it shone and let it fall in thick, rich curls about her shoulders. She donned her leather slippers and even the copper necklace that had been a gift from Guacanagari. “I must bring a gift, something worthy,” she mused aloud. Then her eyes fastened on the foolish velvet gown she had brought The long heavy garment now seemed ludicrous to her, but perhaps...She set to work with a small dagger, unfastening the seams of the wide skirt with its long full train. When she had completed her task, she had a roughly cut cloak of some handsome proportions, fit, she hoped, for a king.

      
Carefully folding the rich brown velvet in her arms, she walked purposefully to the
bohio
of Guacanagari. When one of his wives smiled uncertainly at her, Magdalena took all her courage in hand and held out her peace offering, saying Guacanagari's name.

      
The woman quickly understood and bowed, offering Magdalena a stool in front of the bubbling pepper pot, then vanished inside the huge
bohio
. In a moment Guacanagari strode out and looked at the young woman huddled so forlornly on the small stool, clutching her treasure. She stood at once and offered the heavy velvet to the
cacique
, unfolding the cloak with a flourish. When he stepped nearer, she showed him how it would fit, much as that worn by his friend, the admiral.

      
Guacanagari spoke in halting Castilian, “This is a great honor, wife of Aaron. What may I give you in return?”

      
She swallowed and said, “A far greater treasure—my husband's son.”

      
His face became troubled and he sighed. “Aliyah is very bitter. She hoped to wed Aaron when Navaro was born with his blue eyes.”

      
“Then I came and spoiled her plans. I am sorry, but I have loved Aaron for many, many years. I would love his son as my own. Navaro would want for nothing. This I swear to you.” She held her breath, suddenly seeing the small dark child with her husband's face. She knew even as she spoke the words that she truly meant them. Navaro was Aaron's child. She did love him, just for that!

      
“If I could make Aliyah give over the boy, I would, but there are laws among my people. A woman may keep any children born to her before she weds. No man—or other woman—may claim them, for they are hers alone. Last night I tried to talk with her on the matter so dear to my friend's heart. But she would not listen.” He began to fold the cloak and give it back to Magdalena.

      
Tears filled her eyes, but she dashed them back, shaking her head and saying, “Please, keep the cloak. It is fit for a good and wise
cacique
. I would have you wear it and remember me with fondness, not as one who brought such unhappiness to your village.”

      
“You love Aaron well,” he said softly, studying the small, delicate woman from across the great waters.

      
“I only pray that some day he may come to be as wise as you are,” she said simply. “May I ask that you do not speak of my request to anyone?”

      
“Least of all to your husband?” He nodded and bowed.

      
Magdalena did the same and departed in the cool golden light of morn.

* * * *

      
The pestilence in Ysabel had grown worse while Aaron and Magdalena were away. As soon as they neared the settlement, the stench of death pervaded the air. The flat meadows near the bay were churned up by hundreds of fresh graves. More soil had been turned to bury men than to plant crops.

      
“The whites die of fever and bloody flux, the Tainos of our diseases, smallpox and measles. How well we deal together already,” Aaron muttered in disgust.

      
“The Indians do seem to suffer fatally from ailments that would but disfigure a person in Castile.”

      
“My father would doubtless have had some learned Jewish or Moorish physician's opinion on why that is so,” Aaron replied sadly, then added with contempt, “But I do know why the colonists fare so poorly here. They refuse to adapt, going about covered head to foot in heavy clothes, refusing to eat native foods, insisting on red wine and pork in this heat. Small wonder their guts are eaten away. Even I am physician enough to understand that!”

      
Magdalena bit her lips in vexation at his obdurate attitude. When she went about with her arms and legs bared, he was roundly furious, but with the barriers between them once more so bitterly in place, she forbore to comment. Changing the subject she asked, “How went the meeting with Caonabo? You never did tell me.”

      
Aaron's eyes glowed with grudging admiration. “God above, you should have seen the wily old devil! His face seems as old as the islands, yet he possesses the body of a lean young warrior. He can hold a
bohio
full of
cacique
s spellbound with his entrancing speech. And those glittering black eyes—they seem to cut through to a man's very soul. He knew from his spies that I spoke his language fluently, so when I appeared at the meeting he made no attempt to enlist Guacanagari as an ally against the Colons.”

      
“What was his pretense for the meeting then?”

      
“His men offered lavish gifts to Guacanagari in honor of Aliyah's marriage to Behechio. A sort of subtle bribe, I suppose, although you know well how generous the Taino people always are. A few meaningless pleasantries were exchanged, and Caonabo departed for the Vega with his entourage.”

      
“Will he cause trouble?” Magdalena asked apprehensively, looking at the sick men lying about the filthy, cluttered streets of Ysabel. “There are so many more of them than us.”

      
Aaron scoffed. “One shot from the admiral's lombard aboard
Nina
and they will all flee into the jungles. The accuracy and distance of my lightweight crossbow terrifies them. With our weaponry and armor, not to mention horses, we could kill every Taino on Española in a matter of a few months. But I intend to see that does not happen. Even the troublemakers like that half-Caribe Caonabo would live in peace if the colonists would treat fairly with them.”

      
“But surely Guacanagari will remain the admiral's friend,” Magdalena said earnestly.

      
“Yes, he will. He may be too loyal, though,” Aaron replied darkly. “If the Colons cannot keep control of these damnable young nobles bent on enslaving the Tainos, Guacanagari's people will suffer first and most from the greed of men like Hojeda, that frilly little weasel.”

      
After stabling their mounts and refreshing themselves, Aaron and Magdalena dressed to greet the Colons and report on their time in the interior. The young Taino girl who worked as Magdalena's maid had hung out all her mistress's remaining gowns lest they rot stored in the damp heat of her trunk. Considering the depletion of her wardrobe, Magdalena was most grateful as she chose a lovely light-blue brocade. Now her white linen under-tunic shone in almost dazzling contrast next to her golden-hued skin. Even the blue dress, one she had never considered particularly flattering, made her look vibrantly healthy.

      
The rainy season was upon them, and the leaden skies gave way to a steady drizzle. Her hair, always wiry with curls, now stood out, crackling as if the lightning bolts in the sky were drawn to the russet masses. She struggled to plait it with a string of pearls and then placed a veil over it. Still, curly wisps escaped at her nape and about her face.

      
Aaron watched her fuss with her hair and felt that old familiar ache in his loins. He cursed the tight hose that revealed far more than a loose loincloth would have, but he must look the proper soldier for the governor. “Are you ready? Cristobal awaits me and I am certain Bartolome is pacing the floor in concern over your well-being.”

      
“Then let us go reassure them both,” she replied sweetly, reaching for a dark velvet cape to ward off the worst of the rain. '

      
As he placed it about her shoulders, he asked absently, “Where is that foolish brown velvet gown you took to the village? I see it not with your others hanging on the walls.”

      
“It rotted in the moist air. I threw it away,” she answered quickly, praying Guacanagari would not chose to wear his treasure at some ceremonial occasion where Aaron could recognize it.

      
By the time they reached the governor's residence, the rain squall had stopped. Weather patterns in the Indies were as different from those of Andalusia as Andalusia was from the Pyrenees. Magdalena felt damp and tired, yet eager to greet her old friend Bartolome and his stern elder brother. If only they approved of her shocking transformation. Although nowhere near as dark as Aaron, her skin was far from the milky pallor favored by ladies of the court. Dutifully, Aaron helped her from the small thatch litter four Taino servants carried. Swinging her onto the stones that led up to the wide stairs of the official residence, Aaron assisted her in keeping the mud from her dainty cloth slippers.

      
As soon as they were ushered inside, the admiral and his
adelantado
both rushed into the wide hall outside the audience chamber.

      
Bartolome's face split in a wide grin of delighted amazement. “Taino life seems to agree with you, my lady,” he said, gallantly kissing her hand. Then he turned to his brother, adding, “Does she not look splendid, Cristobal?”

      
The governor smiled warmly, seeing the bloom of health on Magdalena's beautiful face. “Yes, Dona Mag-dalena, it would seem marriage and adventures in the Taino village agree well with you.” He turned to Aaron and read contradictory feelings in the depths of his young friend's eyes. “I trust you have much to report about our friend Guacanagari.”

      
“And Caonabo,” Aaron added, seeing that the mention of the name brought a great wariness to Cristobal's face.

      
“We have much to discuss, but before we do, there is a gentleman who has been inquiring about you since he landed a fortnight ago and found you were here. A kinsman.” Colon's eyes flashed a warning as he added, “Lorenzo Guzman, your brother-in-law.”

      
Aaron's face became a stone mask, gray and taut with loathing. “He was wed to Ana. When the Inquisition took her, he did nothing to stop them.”

      
“Few men can stand against the Holy Office of Fray Tomás, Diego,” Lorenzo said with a languidness that belied the tension within him.
How can he yet be alive?

      
As if reading his mind, Aaron smiled in a cold, sharkish parody and said, “I see you are amazed to find me alive and well, Lorenzo. I, too, was surprised to find you alive and well when I returned to Seville last year. Your wife and my parents, my brother and his wife—all were burned by Torquemada and his minions. How did you alone escape?” Filled with disgust, his eyes bored into Lorenzo's. He was sure that the Duke of Medina-Sidonia had intervened in behalf of his nephew.

      
“I am from an Old Christian family. No one accused me,” Lorenzo replied in a doleful voice.

      
“So was Rafaela. She was devoutly Christian, yet she died with Mateo,” Aaron replied bitterly.

      
Lorenzo's face darkened, and he fought to retain a facade of pious sorrow in front of the Colons. “Perhaps my family was simply more influential. I knew naught of your brother and his wife so far away in Aragon.”

      
“If your family is so influential, surely you could have saved Ana. And what of your daughter Olivia?” Aaron asked, even though he knew the child was safe with his uncle Isaac.

      
“Ana confessed before I could rescue her.” He looked to the governor for help. “Please, this is all too painful. Olivia has been abducted by his Jewish family in France. I was quite beside myself when I was unable to secure her return. That is why I decided to come to the Indies and seek a new life.”

      
“I can see how you suffer her loss,” Aaron said with bitter irony.

      
Just then Lorenzo's eyes moved from the fearsome Diego Torres to examine his wife, whom everyone in Ysabel praised for her beauty. He started to make a graceful courtier's bow, but his knees nearly buckled when he saw her step forward and remove her veil, shaking droplets of rain from her russet hair. “Magdalena Valdés! Lady, is it you? We thought you dead since last spring, set upon and murdered by brigands.”

      
Magdalena smiled coldly at the man she had instinctively disliked from the first time she had met him at court. “As you can plainly discern, I am quite alive and married to Don A—Diego Torres,” she quickly corrected. “Twas for our betrothal that I left the court under such...a misunderstanding.”

      
Lorenzo's eyes were slitted, their gray depths murky with suspicion. “You and Diego Torres betrothed? Odd, your parents never spoke of it. But then after the great tragedy...” He paused and looked about the assembly with a horrified expression: “Of course, you did not know. I am afraid, Dona Magdalena, that I must be the bearer of most calamitous news.” He turned to Cristobal. “Governor, might we all retire to your audience chamber and allow the lady a seat?” he said, moving to take Magdalena's arm.