by Carla Kelly
“You said Las Claves was not the place for you,” Santiago said most formally. “What do you want?”
“To warn you.” Antonio set his sword on the floor. “I traveled as far as the southern plain. You know the one I mean. El Ghalib has assembled a large army and they are coming here.”
Hanneke had pressed herself against Santiago’s back. She felt him tense.
“Is this the truth?”
“I do not lie.”
“Are you carrying this message to me from El Ghalib?”
Hanneke sucked in her breath as Antonio picked up his sword again and turned toward the door. “Why would you even think that?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Manolo told me you were never out of my room when Ana lay so ill. Could not Juana or one of the servants helped her?”
“We all helped her,” Antonio said quickly. He turned around and Hanneke saw the hurt in his eyes. “Have I ever disobeyed a charge you have placed upon me?”
“Never.”
“Did you not tell me to watch over her when you could not?”
More silence, then, “I did.”
“I will always have her best interests at heart, Santiago, until you release me from your charge. Do you release me now?”
“No. I will later, when times are safer.”
Antonio put down his sword again and came closer, his empty hands out in front of him. “I have never seen so many of the enemy all at once.”
“Then we had better talk,” Santiago said. “Pablo, bring food. Ana, leave us.”
“No. She must stay. Don’t look at me like that! Let me tell you why.”
Hanneke sat next to her husband, as Antonio sat across from him at the table. He looked from her with a faint smile to Santiago, where he became all business. “Hear me, Santiago. Ana must remain with us because she will be in charge then we ride out of Las Claves with every soldier.”
“That is too great a risk,” Santiago argued.
“You haven’t seen what I have seen,” Antonio said simply. “Manolo will remain here, of course, but you know how easily he tires.”
“There are that many?”
“There are that many.” Antonio hunched closer, as if seeing El Ghalib’s army. “If they attack us here, we haven’t a chance. We can’t withstand any kind of a siege. Las Claves is no fortress. The snow might slow them down, but for how long?”
Santiago sat in silence, reminding Hanneke of the night he sat so long and still on his horse as the approached the mountain pass, weighing the actions forced upon them, choosing. “Every man, you say?” he asked finally.
“Yes, even young lads without mothers. If I thought for a moment your priest would not make water and run, I would force him along, too. If we can’t surprise them on the plain, the Almohades will pour through here like a river in thaw.”
“Then we need not bother with an army for another hundred years.”
“Sí, Santiago. Our dreams will be over.”
Santiago stared at the Moorish battle flags hanging above them. Hanneke touched his hand, then held it. She felt him relax.
“Very well. Antonio, rouse the soldiers in the hall. Sound the alarm for the villagers and open the gates. Ana, let us dress.”
Antonio was nearly at the door once more when he looked back. “Santiago, do you think our dear Felipe Palacios will be brave enough to join us?”
Santiago laughed for the first time, but with no mirth. “Possibly when hell freezes. As soon as the alarm sounds, he will disappear.”
“Why is he here?”
“Antonio, I have no idea.”
Should she interrupt them? Should she remind them of the connection between Jawhara and Felipe? So much had happened since then. No, no, this wasn’t the time for the story of her necklace, but she had to say something. Ana cleared her throat. “My husband. Antonio.”
They looked her, Santiago with impatience. “Husband, do you not recall that Jawhara told us, or was it Engracia, that she was a gift to your sister-in-law from Felipe?”
“I had forgotten,” Santiago said. He stared at the battle flags again. “Trust no one. It is a convenient credo, Ana. Be careful.”
She wondered if this was the time to tell them that Jawhara and Yussef el Ghalib were brother and sister. But no. She would have to explain how she knew that, and about the necklace. Trust no one, she thought, dismayed with herself. I should have said something much sooner.
She opened her mouth to confess, but both men had already turned away, Antonio to rouse the soldiers, and Santiago upstairs to dress for battle. Deep in misgivings, Hanneke followed her husband. He threw on his tunic, then pulled on another one, feeling the padding of the two shirts. Is it enough? she thought in sudden alarm.
He must have seen the look in her eyes, because he kissed her cheek and added his winter doublet. “See here, I won’t be able to move,” he told her, then took her arm gently. “Don’t worry, please. Follow me.”
By now the entire household was awake. She put on her warmest dress over her camisa. Clad in his chain mail now, Santiago ran down the stairs and she ran, too.
He spoke to her over his shoulder. “The gate remains open until all the villagers and their animals are inside. Once that is done, do not open the gates again. Keep up, Ana! I mean that. All it takes is one Almohad warrior dressed like a beggar to throw the bar from inside.” He stopped and she bumped into him. “Or Felipe. Let us pray my cowardly brother-in-law goes into hiding.”
She ran with him across the icy courtyard to the armory, where Carlos distributed swords, lances, and also the battleaxes that made her shudder.
“Ana, pay attention.” Santiago pulled her close for an intimate moment in a crowded place. “If we are defeated, I will see it coming. I will send someone…”
“Please don’t talk like this,” she whispered in his ear.
“…someone to bear tidings.” He held her closer. “You must do as he says and flee. Follow the villagers and don’t stop for anything.”
“Abandon everything?”
“Yes, chiquita,” he said, his arms tight around her. “Everything. Did we not come into this world naked?”
They hurried next to the kitchen, busy as noonday with the cook and his flunkies filling cloth bags with bread, cheese and sausage. Full of concentration, Pablo handed out the bags to soldiers. He stopped when he saw them.
“Señor Gonzalez, may I ride with you?”
Please no, Hanneke thought in sudden fear, not my true knight.
“Sí o no, Ana?” Santiago asked her. “He is yours to command.” He spoke to Pablo alone, his eyes intense. “Only if you think you can kill a man. I won’t have you hanging back.”
“I would never do that,” Pablo said and stood taller.
“Then go with Santiago,” Hanneke said, wondering if her heart could break any more.
She resolved not to think about Pablo as they continued their circuit of Las Claves, Santiago pointing out the weak places, telling her where to place the old men and children for defense. The townspeople poured through the gate, carrying what possessions they could gather on short notice.
“How fast they will abandon their trinkets if El Ghalib comes knocking,” Santiago murmured as he watched them. “Remember, Manolo will help as much as he can, but his concern is Engracia. Ana, these people will do as you say.” He stopped his half trot and smiled. “Everyone tells me how kind you are.”
“I am,” she said practically. He laughed, then pushed her toward the kitchen. “Help the cook.”
Hanneke returned to the kitchen, slicing sausage and cheese until her arms ached. Exhaustion hovered right behind her eyelids, but she shook it off and watched the sky for signs of daylight.
Finally, it was time. Santiago beckoned to her from the door. “We are leaving.”
She wiped he
r hands on her dress and followed him, stopping to see the men on horseback. Surely it was enough, but why did they look so few in number? Maybe Antonio was wrong about the numbers. Please let him be wrong.
Santiago sucked in his breath. Manolo stood before them, clad in chain mail, ready for battle.
“No,” Santiago said. “Not you.”
“You need every man,” Manolo said, his tone flat and final.
“Not this. Not you. I do not ask it.” He took Manolo by the arm and tried to escort him back to the great hall.
Manolo twisted around to stare at his brother, one shoulder higher than the other. In his too-large armor, he almost seemed to be a caricature of a knight, but no one snickered. No one even moved. “Santiago, you are my younger brother. Do not order me about. I will ride with you.”
“It should not be,” Santiago said, but Hanneke heard in his voice that he knew he had already lost this argument.
Manolo’s voice was firm. “It will be this time.”
Hanneke turned away as her eyes filled with tears for Manolo and her husband, these brothers united and divided by a terrible incident years ago.
“I have no choice?”
“None, brother. Help me into the saddle.”
Your heart is breaking, too, my husband, Hanneke thought, as Santiago and Carlos helped Manolo. “Tie me in,” Manolo said, and Carlos did, his face a mask of worry.
When he was settled, Manolo beckoned to Hanneke. “Watch over Engracia for me. She does not understand.” His voice hardened. “I do not know where her brother has hidden himself.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Antonio and Santiago exchange glances. They whispered, Santiago nodded, and Antonio took off a dagger at his belt. “I don’t need two of these,” he said to Hanneke. “Wear it on your belt. Use it on anyone who threatens you, Christian or Moslem.” His voice softened. “Don’t hesitate.”
She took the dagger, then stepped back as Pablo led his horse to him. Antonio swung into the saddle. She turned to Santiago, her eyes blind with tears, as he reached for her, holding her close, then kissing her. He kept kissing her, even though his soldiers cheered and laughed. She heard, “Take her along, señor,” then “Save it for later,” followed by, “No fair. Where are our women?”
“I love you,” he said, before he released her. “Someday we will have time.”
The soldiers of Las Claves were laughing as they rode away, the little army of Las Claves. Santiago rode at the head, with Carlos beside him and Pablo near, back straight and proud, her caballero kitchen boy. Antonio leaned down as he passed her. “I’ll watch him for you,” he said.
“Go with God, Antonio,” she said, then stepped back, joining the women and children who had gathered by the gate.
When the last soldier passed through, three old men swung the gate shut. Hanneke joined the women and children as they lifted the crosspiece through the iron bars. Other women cried, raising their arms high, imploring the impersonal moon and stars.
Hanneke looked at the parapets, guarded now by boys and girls too young for the task, and viejos who should have been sitting before their breakfast fires, warming old bones. For a terrible moment, she wanted to scream at her father for welcoming those two priests more than a year ago to their manor in Vlissingen, ready to deal with money and herring for a royal connection. How stupid. How pointless. And here I stand, you vain and foolish man, she thought.
She re-entered the great hall and climbed the stairs, each one taller than the one before. She knew she should check on Engracia, even though she wanted to hide until the nightmare ended.
Looking around for Felipe, she tapped on Engracia’s door, hoping he wouldn’t open it and ogle her, now that her protectors were gone.
The room was silent. No Felipe. Coward, she thought, with all the scorn her tired brain could muster. You have already found a good hiding place.
“Ana? Ana? Please be Ana!”
“I’m here, Engracia. May I get you some breakfast?”
She came closer to the bed, then stopped, horrified, to see Engracia clutching at the bed curtain, her eyes wide with terror.
“Thank God! I thought everyone had run away,” Engracia gasped. She grabbed Hanneke’s hand. “Get Juana.” Her breathing became labored. She panted and groaned, clutching her distended belly.
This, too? God spare us.
There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. She thought of Manolo’s bravery, Santiago’s courage, and stalwart Antonio, felt shame, and took a deep breath. Hans Aardema had schemed and planned. Nothing could change that either. The time to blame and whine was long past. She was Santiago Gonzalez’s wife, with the fate of many in her hands. At that moment, she realized that Santiago had no more choice in what he did than she.
She took a deep breath and remembered Pablo’s calm acceptance of whatever life threw at him. “Dear Father in Heaven, make me equal to this small moment in Thine eyes,” she said softly, as she knelt by Engracia, running her hand over her sister-in-law’s arm. “All will be well, dear sister,” she said. “I’ll have Juana here in a moment. Don’t worry. I am here.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Keeping a rein on her growing unease, Hanneke found Juana in the graveyard behind the chapel, staring down at the graves of Santiago’s parents, Rodrigo and Liria. As much as she wanted to pluck at the servant’s sleeve like an impatient child, she also knew better than to make demands of someone who hated Santiago. She remained silent.
Juana must have sensed her presence. She turned around, nodded to Hanneke and looked back at the two graves. “What is happening reminds me of another time, one I try not to think about.” Her expression hardened. “But which I must think about, every time I see your husband.”
“Santiago couldn’t have been more than two or three,” Hanneke said, not willing for the vindictive woman to scold a man doing his best to defend this place. How can you blame a child like you do? she wanted to ask, but knew this wasn’t the time. “Engracia is in labor and I don’t know what to do.”
Juana stared at her then hurried away. I should follow, Hanneke thought, but knelt by Fermina’s grave. I would have loved you. Come to think of it, I already did.
Father Bendicio intercepted her as she hurried beside the church. “Wait! Wait!”
Santiago was right about the animals. The noise of unhappy cows and sheep deafened her. The Almohades don’t have to sneak up on us, she thought, as she shivered and waited for Father Bendicio. We would never hear their loudest war cries over this din.
She watched him pick his way through steaming cow piles, bracing herself for the worst. She knew that expression.
“Must these peasants camp in my church? Babies are making water all over the floor.”
“Where would you have them go, Father?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over a flock of sheep that thundered past, followed by a small boy with a stick. “The great hall?”
“No, wife of Santiago. You will need that for the wounded.”
She turned and stared into the face of a woman no taller than she was, older by many years, bent nearly double.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Hanneke admitted, happy to turn her attention from Father Bendicio, who fumed almost visibly.
“You have not been here when the men return. Save your hall for them.”
“Thank you for good advice,” Hanneke said. Was Father Bendicio worth placating? Why not? “Father, we can clean the chapel when the emergency passes.”
“But, Ana, the Lord’s house?” Father Bendicio could sound so plaintive, as if he was the only one in the world with challenges, while all around her loomed bigger problems.
Santiago, is this what leadership is like? I don’t care for it, she thought. Temper, temper. She folded her hands at her waist, trying to look dignified. “Father, was He not a child once? Our Savior will
understand.”
The old woman chortled as the priest stalked past, then spit in the snow after him. “Worthless fulano,” she grumbled, and backed away.
Hanneke stopped her. “Vieja, do not leave me now. I know nothing.”
The woman squinted at her. “How old are you, dama?”
“Seventeen.” It even sounded young to Hanneke, and she flinched.
“How could Santiago leave a baby in charge?”
“My husband had no choice. Please help me.”
The old woman’s eyes brightened. “You would take advice from me?”
“Only good advice.” She smiled, despite her turmoil. “You certainly put Father Bendicio in his place.”
“Child’s play! I am almost ashamed I did it.” The old woman took her hand. “Tell the children to spread hay and straw in the great hall.”
“Very well. Why?”
“To absorb the blood.”
Hanneke did not waste a moment. While children spread hay on the stone floor, she ran upstairs to Engracia and Juana. She stood there, hands clasped tight, as Engracia groaned through a contraction.
When Engracia relaxed, Hanneke touched her face. “I’m sorry I could not come sooner. There is so much to do.”
No reply. Hanneke looked closer, startled by the coldness of Engracia’s expression. “What?”
“How could you allow Santiago to drag Manolo away?”
Hanneke reeled back as though someone had shoved her. “You have that wrong!”
“I do not! Manolo would never leave me, not at a time like this. Juana said…”
Hanneke stared at Juana. She spoke to Engracia, but her gaze did not waver from the servant’s face. “Juana knows nothing. Manolo ordered Santiago to take him. I was there. I heard him. If you don’t believe me, ask any of the soldiers.”
“Why would he do that to me? Is he a brother before he is a husband?”
Certainly he is, she wanted to say. Everything comes before women. Don’t you know that, you ninny? She settled on, “The need is so great, Engracia. Please understand.”
