informants could have arranged for me. My spies found him hiding a Jewess and her newborn infant in his own home! Coupled with that and the stories your servants told, the Grand Inquisitor was well satisfied, as were the king and queen. It was a risk for me, you must understand, involving Magdalena's name in this. I will have at least ten thousand ducats from the estate when all is done.”
“You will receive your payment. Only be patient. Once Benjamin Torres and his wretched family are burned for judaizing, I will reward you.”
Magdalena crumpled to the ground as the earth spun crazily around her, a small pitiful cry caught in her throat, drowned out by the scraping of chairs as the visitor and Don Bernardo rose and quit the library. She fought waves of nausea and blackness. “I must be calm. I have to find a way to save them,” she whispered brokenly.
Serafina had always been kind to her, yet fearful because of her father. What had she done to this innocent family by merely associating with them? Had her friendship with Benjamin first brought him to the attention of the Holy Office? Did Benjamin think she had betrayed him?
Struggling to stand up, she clawed her way along the wall until her heartbeat slowed and her head cleared. Then she raced for her room. She had a small fortune in jewelry her frivolous mother had cast off, a careless gift for her daughter's debut at court. Could it be enough to bribe the guards into freeing the Torres family?
Magdalena rode through the twilight, heedless of the dangers lurking on the Seville road. Once in the city, she went to the home of her old friend, Lucia de Palma, only to learn the auto de fe was to be held at dawn. Benjamin, Serafina, and Ana were condemned along with a host of other New Christians. All would walk in the horrible procession to the Cathedral, where a mass would be celebrated along with a sermon of thundering denunciation. From there they would be taken to the outskirts of the city to the meadows of Tablada, traditional grounds for the burning of judaizers.
Magdalena swore Lucia to secrecy and then left the house before first light, headed for the Convent of San Pablo, whose grim gray cells housed those doomed to die on this day. Bribing a jailer proved easier than she had believed. No Dominicans were in the dungeons beneath the court, which was staffed by the city's watch. Although the Holy Office condemned men and women to die, often after horrible tortures, the Church itself was never allowed to execute heretics. Once tried in secret, accused by witnesses they were not allowed to see, and judged guilty by their Dominican Inquisitors, the apostates were turned over to the secular authorities to be burned.
The guard was a small, filthy fellow with narrow pale eyes that could freeze blood. God only knew what horrors he had witnessed while working in the dungeons. At first Magdalena feared he would refuse her, but the lure of a gold bracelet set with rubies quickly dazzled him. He sneaked her inside the convent and guided her along cold, dark passageways, leading ever deeper into the very bowels of the earth. At each twist of the labyrinth, a dim torch flickered in its iron wall sconce.
Magdalena tried not to look inside the rooms they passed. She had heard the stories of racks, iron boots, thumb screws, and water ladders. She had no wish to see those instruments from hell. This was hell. The sour odor of excrement and vomit mixed with the oily stench from the torches.
“There. That is the last abode of the one known as the royal physician,” the guard said. He unbolted the door and it swung wide. “I will return in an hour's time when the friar has made his rounds. Be ready, else we are both bound for the same fate as your friend.”
Steeling herself for what she might find within, she nodded and entered the dark cell with
“You will receive your payment. Only be patient. Once Benjamin Torres and his wretched family are burned for judaizing, I will reward you.”
Magdalena crumpled to the ground as the earth spun crazily around her, a small pitiful cry caught in her throat, drowned out by the scraping of chairs as the visitor and Don Bernardo rose and quit the library. She fought waves of nausea and blackness. “I must be calm. I have to find a way to save them,” she whispered brokenly.
Serafina had always been kind to her, yet fearful because of her father. What had she done to this innocent family by merely associating with them? Had her friendship with Benjamin first brought him to the attention of the Holy Office? Did Benjamin think she had betrayed him?
Struggling to stand up, she clawed her way along the wall until her heartbeat slowed and her head cleared. Then she raced for her room. She had a small fortune in jewelry her frivolous mother had cast off, a careless gift for her daughter's debut at court. Could it be enough to bribe the guards into freeing the Torres family?
Magdalena rode through the twilight, heedless of the dangers lurking on the Seville road. Once in the city, she went to the home of her old friend, Lucia de Palma, only to learn the auto de fe was to be held at dawn. Benjamin, Serafina, and Ana were condemned along with a host of other New Christians. All would walk in the horrible procession to the Cathedral, where a mass would be celebrated along with a sermon of thundering denunciation. From there they would be taken to the outskirts of the city to the meadows of Tablada, traditional grounds for the burning of judaizers.
Magdalena swore Lucia to secrecy and then left the house before first light, headed for the Convent of San Pablo, whose grim gray cells housed those doomed to die on this day. Bribing a jailer proved easier than she had believed. No Dominicans were in the dungeons beneath the court, which was staffed by the city's watch. Although the Holy Office condemned men and women to die, often after horrible tortures, the Church itself was never allowed to execute heretics. Once tried in secret, accused by witnesses they were not allowed to see, and judged guilty by their Dominican Inquisitors, the apostates were turned over to the secular authorities to be burned.
The guard was a small, filthy fellow with narrow pale eyes that could freeze blood. God only knew what horrors he had witnessed while working in the dungeons. At first Magdalena feared he would refuse her, but the lure of a gold bracelet set with rubies quickly dazzled him. He sneaked her inside the convent and guided her along cold, dark passageways, leading ever deeper into the very bowels of the earth. At each twist of the labyrinth, a dim torch flickered in its iron wall sconce.
Magdalena tried not to look inside the rooms they passed. She had heard the stories of racks, iron boots, thumb screws, and water ladders. She had no wish to see those instruments from hell. This was hell. The sour odor of excrement and vomit mixed with the oily stench from the torches.
“There. That is the last abode of the one known as the royal physician,” the guard said. He unbolted the door and it swung wide. “I will return in an hour's time when the friar has made his rounds. Be ready, else we are both bound for the same fate as your friend.”
Steeling herself for what she might find within, she nodded and entered the dark cell with
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