Torquemada by Howard Fast

– which is filth, dirt and sin. Do you hear, Don Alvero?” The old man at the far right smiled. He was almost toothless, a single yellow tooth in the bottom of his jaw, two yellow fangs on top. It made him lisp as he spoke. “The mortal body goes in purification. You lose it, Don Alvero, but think of what you gain. The gain is life everlasting.”
    At the other side of Torquemada an Inquisitor intoned, “Purged by fire of all sin, purged and pure. Pure and full of grace, full of grace.”
    Torquemada shook his head impatiently and Alvero had the feeling that the Prior was both annoyed and embarrassed by the comments of his colleagues. “Become one with your God,” Torquemada said. “Give up your torment, Don Alvero.”
    â€œNo, Thomas,” Alvero replied. “My torment is one thing I will not surrender easily.”
    Now the old man on the far left found reason to be indignant and demanded how Alvero dared to address the Grand Inquisitor in so familiar a manner.
    â€œHe despises us,” another Inquisitor said. “It is obvious that he despises us.” And then addressing himself to Alvero, “Do you despise us, sir?”
    â€œI remembered a friend,” Alvero said. “Do I sin by calling him Thomas?” He addressed himself directly to Torquemada and asked for an answer. “Does it go with my other sins? Shall I no longer call you Thomas?”
    â€œI too remember a friend,” Torquemada said. “Call me Thomas so long as you can, God help me – God help both of us. I speak to you as a friend, Alvero. Give up your torment and be at peace with yourself.”
    â€œBut I have found something precious in my torment.”
    â€œSomething precious? What have you found, Don Alvero?”
    â€œMyself.”
    â€œAs a heretic? As a Jew? How have you found yourself, Alvero?”
    â€œAs a human being.”
    â€œAnd what does that signify, Alvero? That you are a thing of flesh and blood? That you eat, that you sleep, that you breathe? An animal performs all those functions. An animal is flesh and blood. A Jew is flesh and blood. I was speaking before of your immortal soul.”
    â€œAnd if the body needs flesh and blood how does the immortal soul nourish itself? With mercy and pity? Or is all that I was taught a lie?”
    â€œWe are mercy and pity – ourselves, the Holy Inquisition.”
    â€œMercy and pity,” Alvero said, unable to keep the astonishment out of his voice. “Oh no, Thomas, you take me as a fool. You mock me and you play games with me.”
    â€œI offer you something precious.”
    â€œWhat do you offer me? A stake where I can burn? A prison cell where I can rot?”
    Now the Inquisitor on the far right cried out shrilly and impatiently, “Our Lord hung from a stake. A stake will free you of your heresy. The purification of flames will be wrapped around you like a cloak – a cloak of love and thoughtfulness—”
    Alvero could contain himself no longer and pointing to the old man he cried out at Torquemada, “Thomas, whatever I must endure before you I must endure, but I will not stand here and listen to that old idiot!”
    Torquemada turned to the old man and said to him harshly, “Enough! No more from you!” Torquemada looked at the others. “All of you – leave it be or you will do penance sufficient unto my anger. This man stands before me and I will examine him.”
    â€œYou go too far, Prior,” one of the Inquisitors said.
    â€œI will not have you tell me how far to go,” Torquemada replied coldly and angrily. He turned to Alvero now and said to him harshly, “I pleaded with you, Alvero, but I can plead with you no more. Confess yourself!”
    â€œI have no sins to confess.”
    â€œWhat is it your wear around your neck?”
    Rising now Torquemada pushed back his chair and strode around the table to Alvero. They stood face to