The Crown of Valencia

by Catherine Friend

  As if I were the Wicked Witch of the East, the truth slammed down on me as suddenly as a house. What noblewoman would have the nerve to criticize the king before a stranger such as myself? Only his wife, Queen Constance, the woman who had recently lost the attentions of her husband to the mysterious Paloma de Palma. I now understood the aura of pain she projected. I stepped back, curtseying so awkwardly I nearly tipped over. “Your majesty, I did not know who you were. Please excuse my intrusion.”

  She held up a hand. “I understand this is a Moor giving the keys of the city to my husband, but what of these three men who look outward, directly at us?”

  I paused. While I could easily argue with King Alfonso, I found myself tongue-tied around her, unsure how to speak to a queen. “Your highness, art is about emotion. How do those three faces make you feel?”

  Without hesitation, she said, “As if they are looking deep into my very soul, as if they can see my sins and are judging me for them.” She suddenly laughed. “Señora Navarro, this is a perfect painting for Alfonso. I shall pray it invokes the same emotions in him. May he be forced to confront his sins every time he gazes on this work of art. God knows he has enough sins to repent.”

  I bit my lip and inhaled sharply. Standing beside me was a woman who knew Paloma de Palma, knew where she slept, knew her movements, and likely hated her. Voices murmured in a nearby room, but otherwise we were alone. Fate usually didn’t drop such gifts in my lap; could it be this easy? I cleared my throat. “Your highness, may I impose upon your kindness?”

  Her face cleared as she pushed aside her pain, her generosity touching me even as my nervousness grew.

  “I seek a woman who has been in your court these last several months. She...has wronged my family terribly.”

  The queen clucked sympathetically and nodded toward a carved marble bench. “Sit and tell me more, child.”

  I sat. “My cousin...from Calahora was betrothed to marry Marta Vasquez’s third cousin on her mother’s side. But the night before the wedding, this woman I seek lured away my cousin’s intended, then disappeared. I have been looking for her on behalf of my cousin.” Thank you, José.

  The queen’s jaw tightened and the glint I’d hoped for appeared in her eyes. “Does this woman have a name?”

  “Paloma de Palma. I have heard there is a woman by this name...advising the king.”

  “Yes, advising,” the queen replied, lips tight.

  “I need to see if she’s the same one.”

  “And if she is?”

  “I will bring her back to Calahora and make her answer for my cousin’s shame.”

  The queen licked her dry lips. “And how would she answer?”

  “Public humiliation. She would be revealed as nothing more than a woman of loose morals and questionable character.”

  “I see.” I waited, my stomach tight. Tiny lines ran out from the queen’s eyes, and her brow was a map of permanent horizontal lines. “Señora Navarro, would you recognize your Señora de Palma if you saw her?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The queen’s face flushed with excitement, and she absentmindedly smoothed out her skirt. Then she stood and held out her arm for mine. “Good. Then I will take you to her.”

  Heart pounding, I struggled to slow my steps to match the queen’s regal pace. If my good luck held, the court’s de Palma would not be Anna.

  Servants and noblemen bowed as we passed from room to room, a twenty-first century lesbian locking arms with an eleventh century queen, both hopeful but for different reasons.

  I’d never been this deep inside the castle before, and I tried not to gape at the heavy red and green tapestries hanging in every room, the sideboards loaded with silver service, the elaborate candelabras, the ornate carved wooden crosses. After passing through a number of small rooms, we approached yet another open doorway. “Señora de Palma,” the queen called gaily. “You have a visitor.”

  When the queen and I stepped inside, the ladies-in-waiting jumped to their feet, knocking over baskets of yarn, and dropped into curtsies. A blond woman in an ivory and green gown fled out a far doorway before I had the chance to see her face.

  “The guilty flee,” Queen Constance murmured.

  “Stop!” I shouted, then grabbed up my skirts and ran through the cluster of women, reaching the doorway just as a flash of ivory disappeared from the next room. My boots slipped as I raced across the stone floor, but I kept my footing and clattered down the dark staircase. This was ridiculous. Why would Anna run from me if it were her? She had nothing to hide from me.

  “Stop!” I cried, but the woman shoved through a cluster of arguing noblemen and bolted up the far staircase, her hair now half-undone and swinging wildly.

  Not stopping to apologize to the portly nobleman I knocked over, I snatched up my skirts and took the stairs two at a time. At the end of a short hallway a wooden door slammed shut. Heart pounding, gasping to relieve my aching lungs, I marched up to the closed door and rapped my knuckles against the smooth wood. No answer, so I inhaled once for courage, then pushed down the heavy iron latch and flung open the door.

  The small room held three benches, two tables, and one woman. She stood against the far wall, back to me, looking out the window as her fluttering fingers pinned up her fallen hair.

  “Anna?” I asked. My blood bashed against my ear drums as I waited, praying when the woman turned around I’d see close-set eyes or the wrong-shaped face or a flat nose or a moustache—anything to show me I’d been paranoid. I wiped my mouth. False alarm. Please.

  The woman’s head dropped, then, gown rustling on the grimy floor, she turned.

  “Oh, my god,” I breathed. Same green eyes. Same little bump on the nose. Same firm chin. I stared stupidly at her, too numb to think.

  “Kate.” My former lover held out her hands as a confusion of emotions raced across her face. “I ran because I didn’t know it was you.” She crossed the room, expensive gown and cape flowing behind her, then before I could say anything she flung her arms around my neck. “Oh Kate, I finally found you. Now we can be together again.”

  Shit.

  Instinctively my arms went around her, probably because I couldn’t think of anything else to do with them, and because my brain flailed around like a caged animal. Holding her had once been the most natural thing in the world, but now I could scarcely breathe. She smelled of fish and a sickly sweet rose perfume. Slowly, gently, I unlatched her arms, stepping back to stare into the face I thought I’d never see again. She was clearly doing the same, and though it had only been nine months, it felt more like nine hundred years.

  “Anna,” I finally croaked. “You came back in time.”

  “Of course, my love. To look for you...and to just be here.” A tentative smile flickered across her flushed face, then faded when I lowered myself onto the nearest wooden bench, worn smooth by decades of Burgosian bottoms, my knees feeling weird.

  “But how…how did you find out where I’d gone?” I asked.

  She dropped down beside me and clutched at my hand. How could she afford such expensive clothes, the smooth green silk, the gold embroidered trim, a bodice beaded with pearls? “Kate, I was sick with worry. For days I badgered the Zaragozan police, but they had no leads. Can you imagine how I felt? You left for the cave, then never came back. You were gone, you’d vanished.”

  “It was an accident.” I dug my nails into a soft groove in the bench.

  “No kidding. That weird dentist couple—”

  “—the Whipples.”

  “Yeah. They insisted you’d dropped behind in the cave tour and they never saw you again. The vendors outside the cave never saw you leave. I was wild with fear that you might have fallen into a crack or pool or quicksand or something. I asked Carlos for help. You remember, the guide at the Aljafería?”

  I nodded, feeling as if I were stuck in one of those horrible nightmares you know is a dream but that you can’t escape.

  “He and I tracked down Rober
to at the orphanage, and that horrid little man finally confessed what he knew about the ledge in the cave.” Roberto, the janitor at Arturo’s orphanage, had told Anna and me to stay away from the cave. If I’d listened, I never would have met Elena.

  “Anna, where is Arturo?”

  She threw up hands so bejeweled they sparkled even in this dull room. “At first I didn’t believe Roberto, but he had artifacts he’d brought back. And after a few weeks passed and you were still missing, I decided it was possible. God, I missed you so much.” She leaned forward and kissed me, her lips warm and soft.

  Slowly, as politely as I could, I drew back. She studied me with cool eyes, then made a noise of disgust. “So that’s why you didn’t return to the future.” Her jaw tightened and my guilt reported for duty.

  “I tried. God, I tried. But something always went wrong.”

  “And then you found someone else. Who is she? On the other hand, this century isn’t exactly crawling with lesbians, so perhaps you’ve turned to men.”

  “Maybe that’s why you’re screwing the king,” I said tightly, watching her flush as if I’d slapped her. I stood and paced, suddenly as restless as a kid in church, then stopped before the open window, the noisy city sprawled out below. She hadn’t come back in time to look for me. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but this person needed me more than—”

  “More than I did?”

  I puffed out my cheeks, exhaling slowly. “Yes, more than you did. I’m sorry. I couldn’t be in two centuries at once. I knew Arturo would be fine with you.” I stopped, unsure how much honesty our sudden encounter could bear. “As for us, well...you have to admit we weren’t the best together. I knew you’d find someone who fit better.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe you gave up on us so easily.”

  Ouch. Did she truly feel sad or just want to heap on the guilt? “Anna, where is Arturo? Did you leave him with your parents? Did you bring him back with you?”

  Anna stood, calmly shaking out her gown, then joined me at the window. Shade cooled this north side of the castle, and though the damp stones made me shiver, that chill was nothing compared to the icy finger of fear that shot through me when Anna cleared her throat. “Kate, I don’t know where Arturo is.”

  The words hung in the air as I shut my eyes, unwilling to hear them. The only surprise was that I was not surprised. I turned and gripped her shoulders. “Why?”

  She thrust her chin out defiantly. “I never had him. After I figured out you’d gone back in time, I decided to follow. I called Señora Cavelos and explained you’d disappeared and that I didn’t want to be a single parent.”

  My photo of Arturo showed a five-year-old boy afraid to hope, and when Anna’s words sank in, I understood why. We’d both failed him. Miserably. I slumped against the wall, struggling to form the words. “He’s still at the orphanage?”

  She shrugged. “Probably. I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” Rage at her betrayal—no, at ours—thrashed to the surface. “Anna, we promised. Señora Cavelos told him we’d take him home.”

  “If he was so important, why didn’t you come back? The sex was too good to give up?”

  “Stop it! I told you I tried. But then I finally realized how little I knew about raising kids. I’ve nearly drowned three or four of them. I decided you’d make a much better mother than I would. Besides, you were the one who wanted kids.”

  She grunted, a startling sound from a woman dressed in Burgos’s finest silks and jewelry. “You’re right. And if you’d died in an accident or something, I probably would have gone ahead with our plans. But, look.” She steered me toward the window, her hands clammy enough to penetrate my tunic. “Pinch yourself. You’re awake. Inhale. This is 1086, for god’s sake. It’s real. I don’t understand how it’s possible, but we exist over nine hundred years before we should.”

  I yanked my arms free and crossed them over my chest, unnerved and a bit sickened by her touch. “I’ve been attacked, kidnapped, and tortured, so you don’t have to convince me it’s real. The wonder wore off months ago.”

  Arturo was still in the orphanage. I could barely track Anna’s words as I remembered being ten, sitting in the bay window in the dark with yet another babysitter watching TV in the other room and waiting for my parents to come home after yet another meeting or workout session. I’d felt unlovable and unworthy because my parents’ calendars were just too full to spend time with me.

  “Kate, we’re living history as it happens. My god, King Alfonso. And El Cid. Think of what we can do, Kate. We can make things happen.”

  But politics was ridiculously unimportant compared to the realization that Arturo lived in the orphanage still, his wide brown eyes, eager smile, and anxious body poised by the window, wondering when we would come. No, by now he would have stopped wondering ‘when,’ and had probably even given up on ‘if.’ Suddenly weak with sadness, I returned to the bench. “Anna, don’t be stupid. You’ve seen enough science fiction to know we could really screw things up.”

  Her harsh laugh grated on my nerves. “That’s fantasy, love.” She swept an arm out the open window. “This is reality, Kate, and being here, in Spain, at this time, is more important than any child.”

  I don’t know what made me gasp out loud, her radiant smile or her words, since both bit deeper than if I’d been mauled by a pack of rabid wolves. Yet even as concern for Arturo settled in my heart, something about Anna’s story made me worry the inside of my cheek. Then I remembered. “You loved the Moors. If you really want to influence events, aren’t you in the wrong city? Why not Cordoba? Granada? Zaragoza?”

  She glared at me, mouth now clamped shut. “I doubt Arturo has been adopted. He’s probably still in the orphanage.” Her ploy to distract me was so transparent I nearly laughed, but it did such damage I blinked furiously, wondering if I’d ever known the hard woman standing before me. As I considered my options, a flaming ache ignited deep inside me, one that I knew would consume me for the rest of my life. Elena loved me. I loved her. But I could not leave Arturo in that orphanage to grow up without a family, and I would not bring him back to live in such a dangerous time.

  Chapter Five

  Still at the window, tense with excitement as she drank in the eleventh century tableau, Anna radiated pleasure, as if the ox carts rumbling through the streets and soldiers teasing passing servant women were an aphrodisiac.

  “I must go,” I said, unsure who angered me more—Anna or myself, since we’d both left Arturo at the orphanage, unlovable, unworthy, left to grow up on his own.

  “I’ll walk with you,” she said. In silence, we left the room and descended the nearest staircase. A knot of men gathered near the entrance. Rodrigo’s booming voice carried to us and I stopped, steadying myself with a hand against the cold stone wall. As the crowd began moving toward the door, Elena turned and saw me at the base of the stairs. She waved, her lopsided grin nearly breaking my heart as she jogged toward us. I didn’t understand why, but I knew Anna must never know Elena’s true sex.

  By the time Elena reached me, her grin had faded and her eyes clouded with concern. Without even glancing at Anna, she cupped my cheek with a callused hand. “Kate, you are white as snow, and your hands just as cold. Are you ill?”

  I tried to smile, but the hard realization of what may lay ahead so paralyzed me all I could do was shake my head. I knew what I had to do, but I wasn’t sure if I’d actually be able to do it.

  Anna cleared her throat coyly. “Kate, perhaps you could introduce me to this fine soldier.”

  Elena’s gaze flickered briefly toward Anna, then returned to me, frowning. I took a deep breath. “This is...my husband, Luis Navarro of Duañez .”

  “Your husband?” Anna’s voice tightened with shock.

  “Yes, he fights with Rodrigo Díaz of Vivar.”

  Recovering quickly, Anna’s face shone and she practically batted her eyelashes at Elena. “How wonderful.”

  “L
uis! Let’s go!” Enzo waved impatiently from the main door.

  Anna extended her hand. “And I am a dear, old friend of Kate’s. We go back many years. Señora Paloma de Palma.”

  Elena went through the motions, but her face had gone as pale as mine. She turned a troubled gaze on me, but I closed my eyes so she couldn’t read them. Not now. Not here. I’d told Elena months ago all about Anna, and while I had probably never mentioned the name Paloma de Palma, it wasn’t necessary. How many ‘old’ friends did I have in the eleventh century?

  “An old friend?” Elena said thickly.

  “Luis, you mule!” Enzo stopped pacing and headed toward us. “Rodrigo waits!”

  With a last desperate glance at me, Elena jogged toward Enzo, and they disappeared into the sunshine flooding the castle entrance.

  “Married? That didn’t take you long. How long did you wait after you fell back in time? A few weeks, a month?”

  “Stop it.”

  She linked her arm with mine, squeezing tightly when I tried to move away. “Well, he’s a beautiful man, and hopelessly in love with you. I can’t blame you, even though I’m surprised. I never imagined you were bisexual.” Knots of court followers chatting in the huge vestibule stared at us as we passed.

  I stepped into the sunny area but felt no warming of my bones, no loosening of my muscles, no relief from the pain in my belly. “I’m surprised at you as well, Anna. Stay away from the king. Fidelity used to be important to you.”

  “And to you.”

  I wrenched her warm, plump wrist back until she had to let go of my arm with a sharp cry. “Listen, I was struggling to survive. I didn’t mean for it to happen. But how can you cause Queen Constance such pain and still get up in the morning?”

  Anna shook her head, topaz drop earrings scattering prism sparkles over both of us. “My reasons are the same as yours. I must do whatever it takes to survive, and if that includes charming and controlling the most powerful man in all of Castile, León, and Asturias, so be it.”