Paradise & More (Torres Family Saga) by Shirl Henke

Granada's mountain fastness across the river plain to Seville with his retinue of two hundred and fifty armed guards. He was saddlesore and exhausted. Yet it was far from a commonplace occurrence to have King Fernando's personal physician brought up on charges of relapsing into judaizing ways, hiding a Jewish woman and her newly delivered infant in his own home. The cursed brother, that crafty Isaac Torres, had escaped with his life and wealth, but the falsely converted Benjamin would not mock God thusly.
           Torquemada knelt before the small alter in his quarters, made the sign of the cross, and clasped his hands tightly to pray. Always before interrogating a prisoner he went through the same ritual, praying for the extirpation of heresy and the destruction of all who clung to their vain belief in the Law of Moses. Except for a few chosen, such as himself, men with Jewish ancestors could not comprehend the beauty of the one true faith.
           Often he feared for the king, whom he knew placed dynastic and political matters before his immortal soul. But Fernando could be ruled in this by the combined efforts of the queen and the Grand Inquisitor. He prayed fervently for almost an hour, then stood unsteadily. His knees ached so painfully that he had to allow the young friar who attended him to assist him in walking to the long dais where he would sit when Torres was brought before him.
           Grunting as he sat down on the hard oak chair, Fray Tomás motioned for the friar to usher in the accused. He watched the tall man with graying blond hair and austerely chiseled features approach him. Benjamin's calm assurance evoked jealousy in the inquisitor, as did his physical appearance. For all Fray Tomás's fasting and secret flagellation, he could never seem to lose the slight corpulence that bloated his body. He, of a noble Castilian house, had the coarse features of a butcher, while this Jew possessed the lean elegance of a duke!
           “You seem unmoved by the gravity of the charges brought against you, which are serious indeed, Don Benjamin,” Torquemada said coldly.
           “I assure you, Fray Tomás, I am most concerned, especially for my family who have been unjustly imprisoned with me. My wife and daughter had nothing to do with my treating a Jewish patient,” Benjamin said, fighting to remain calm.
           “You admit to breaking the law by succoring a Jewess after her expulsion, then.” Tomás leaned forward in his chair.
           Benjamin shifted the cumbersome manacles that threatened to drag down his thin shoulders. “I am a physician. A woman fell by the wayside, great with child and about to be delivered.” He paused and a soft smile touched his lips. “Not altogether unlike the Holy Mother on her journey to Bethlehem. She, too, was a Jewess, Fray Tomas.”
           Torquemada stood up, furious anger compelling him to cry out, “That is blasphemy!”
           “It certainly was not intended as such. The young woman is a mere mortal and yes, Jewish, but she fell too ill to be able to leave Castile with her family. As a physician I was bound by my oath to treat her—I ask about no man or woman's religion before doing this.”
           “You are a converso. To associate with Jews means backsliding into your old heresy,” Torquemada thundered.
           “I did nothing to violate my baptism, but I am guilty of offering shelter to a woman who would have died had I not cared for her and her child. Let the royal justice judge me for this if it be a criminal offense. The matter is not subject to jurisdiction of the Holy Office. And whether I am guilty or not of aiding a Jew illegally, my wife and daughter had nothing to do with my actions. You have no right to hold them.”
           “That is my decision to make,” Torquemada said arrogantly, stroking his fleshy chin.
           “You have bitten off much, Fray Tomás. I am still