The Crown of Valencia

by Catherine Friend

  “Listen to yourself. You can’t control a king.”

  Her sly smile chilled me. “You can if you slip a little blue pill into his ale, and he credits you with long nights of unbelievable passion.”

  My mouth dropped. “You brought back Viagra?” She grinned like a child who’d kept a secret too long. “Viagra can harm a man who doesn’t need it.”

  She brushed me off. “He’s fine. Exhausted, but fine.”

  “Christ. What else did you bring back?” I held up both hands. “No, don’t tell me.”

  Troubled, I strode from the castle, elbowed my way across the packed square, and headed for the inn. Everything in my life was going to change, and I didn’t know if it was Anna’s fault, or my own.

  *

  Back in our room at the Crazy Mule, I paced, moaned, stared out the window, then started pacing again. It took me two hours to accept what I had known I must do the instant Anna told me the truth about Arturo.

  Somehow the rest of the day passed. By early evening I had nothing to do but wait for Elena to return, so I pulled the bench over to the window, unlatched and threw open the wooden shutters, then rested my chin on my hands, watching Burgos pass by.

  Despite my words to Anna, I had lost none of my wonder at the miracle, or curse, that had slid me backward through time. What amazed me most were the people. I’d imagined people in the distant past somehow looked different, awkward, flat, as they’d been portrayed in art. But the people who passed below me looked exactly like twenty-first century residents, clothing excepted, of course. Large, jutting ears. Narrow, pinched noses. Tight, controlled walks, wild saunters, and open, confident gaits. One man could have easily gotten his pot belly drinking beer and surfing the ESPN channels. Another woman’s grim, angry face reminded me of Mrs. Nelson, my piano teacher. A group of laughing boys tossed around a ball of rags. Put them in baggy sweats and Nikes, give them a basketball, and they’d blend into any school playground.

  People struggled with health, money, war, jealousy, loss, and love. Just because they didn’t have computers or space stations or microwaves didn’t mean they were less intelligent, a myth I had worked hard to release.

  When I saw Elena’s broad shoulders weaving through the crowd toward the inn, I let out a shuddering sigh. My joy at seeing that short black hair collided with the bile rising in my mouth as my stomach roiled. I closed the shutters, lit the two lamps, then paced.

  My wait was short. Without looking at me, Elena entered, removed her cloak and scabbard, and dropped them both onto the floor.

  “There is still bread and cheese left from yesterday,” I said quietly.

  Elena broke off a hunk of bread, but just stood there. Finally she took a deep breath. “Paloma de Palma.”

  “Yes.”

  “If she is truly an old friend, she must be Anna.”

  I exhaled loudly, not surprised. “Yes.”

  She lay the bread on the table, then folded her arms. “Do you wish to...resume your...attachment to Anna?”

  If an even harder discussion didn’t await us, I would have smiled at her barely concealed jealousy. “Elena, you have shown me more love in the last six months than Anna showed me in five years.”

  “I will not let you go without a fight. I swear on my family’s grave Anna will face my sword if she—”

  “Elena, you are not listening. I love you.”

  She turned, face tight, those wonderful lips pressed painfully together. “Anna will not come between us?”

  “No, but—”

  “Holy Bullocks.” She dropped onto the bench. “I have been unable to think all day. Rodrigo almost cuffed me once when I mixed up his orders.” Her relieved smile brought a lump to my throat. “I feared I must hurt Anna so she would not take you from me.”

  I couldn’t speak, my mouth opening but no words coming forth.

  “Kate?” Elena crossed the room and held my hands.

  I closed my eyes, squeezing her hands for strength, inhaling her scent of soap and sweat and leather, then opened my eyes. “Anna will not take me from you. But...Arturo will.”

  She frowned, confused, so I repeated my words. Elena’s eyes suddenly widened. “What?”

  I don’t know where I found the strength, but I knew I had no choice but to push on. “Anna never adopted Arturo. She left him in the orphanage. Alone. Elena, he has no one to raise him, no family.”

  My lover swallowed furiously, now the one unable to speak.

  “I must return to the future. I can no longer put my own happiness first.” Elena had lost her entire family to a Moorish raid, so I prayed she understood how much a child needed a family.

  Horror transformed her face, her body, her voice as reality forced itself on her, violating the future we’d planned together. I swayed, nearly overcome by the pain we both felt. In Elena pain always ignited anger and action, so I wasn’t surprised when she suddenly grabbed my shoulders, fingers digging deep. “You leave me for a child?” she whispered.

  I nodded weakly.

  “How can I fight a child?” she roared.

  “I don’t—”

  “What about us? How can you leave?” She shook me roughly.

  “This is the hardest—”

  “Do you realize what we have?” she cried. “Most people spend their whole lives without someone to share their soul with.” Her angry voice dropped to a low growl. “That we are both women and still found each other shows all the more we are meant to be together.”

  My vision blurred as my eyes filled. “I know. God, I know. But, Elena, I’ve seen his smile. Anna and I made a commitment to him, and while I was able to deal with not being his parent when I thought Anna was, now I can’t. I must go back.”

  “No!” She shook me again, but my resolve had become an army of thousands she couldn’t fight. She was outnumbered. With a half cry, half sob, she released me, snatched up her cape and sword, and stomped out. She slammed the door so hard dust from the ceiling timbers fell like snow.

  Numb, I blew out the lamps and lay down on the gritty bed, curling up into a tight ball. Damp cold crept into the drafty room, but I couldn’t move to find a blanket. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think. Months ago I’d struggled to believe I’d landed nine hundred years in the past. Now I could barely comprehend that I was leaving.

  I must have slept, for when the opening door woke me a few hours later, the street below was quiet as Burgos slept. I felt more than saw a flickering candle enter the room, then heard a scabbard drop with a soft thud to the floor, followed by two boots. Elena placed the candle near the bed, then lay down beside me, throwing a blanket over us.

  “Kate.” She pulled my cramped body from its fetal position until we were face to face, chest to chest. I opened my eyes.

  We hesitated only a second, then slid our arms around each other, clinging as the parting lovers we were, trembling, our words muffled against each other’s necks. With daylight we would find the courage to do what must be done, but tonight we ripped ourselves wide open and pressed our exposed hearts so tightly together they beat as one.

  Chapter Six

  When I awoke, Elena’s strong fingers were entwined in mine, and her eyes, dark with an emotion I couldn’t name, bore into me. “I will take you to Santillana. All the way this time.” Six months ago, with Nuño along, we had traveled from Zaragoza toward the northern fishing village of Santillana del Mar, where I’d intended to enter the Altamira cave, find the right ledge, and return to the twenty-first century. Two days before we were to arrive, Elena left me in Nuño’s care, unable to drag out our parting. But when she left suddenly, I’d been so hurt and stunned I finally accepted the truth I’d fought for weeks—that I yearned to remain with her in the eleventh century and relinquish my life with Anna and Arturo.

  “Doesn’t your army march for Cordoba soon?”

  She raised up on one elbow. “There is time if we leave right away. In three hard days we will be there. If the army leaves before I return, I will j
ust catch up with them.”

  “You won’t change your mind?”

  “Will you?” She read the answer in my face and swallowed.

  “What will we do without each other?” I whispered.

  Elena kissed me. “You will have Arturo. And from what you have told me about the future, you will be very occupied just trying to survive.” She hopped from the bed, a forced lightness to her voice. “And I shall have Enzo and Fadri to nag me endlessly all day. I shall kiss Matamoros when I miss you. And during the long winters José will sit by my fire and tell me the same stories until I will be forced to cut his throat.”

  “You will kiss a horse.”

  “Yes.”

  “Instead of me.”

  She pulled on her shirt. “If I close my eyes, there should be little difference.”

  I yelped and threw my pillow at her, but no more was said of what lay ahead of us. We spoke only of the journey and what we would need, not of the journey’s end.

  While Elena prepared the horses and food for travel, I headed for Alfonso’s castle. Anna was already up, and a stout girl had just finished tucking my ex-lover’s hair under a gauzy head scarf that reached below her shoulders. While I waited, Anna dismissed her servant then scooped up a small white dog with fine, floppy hair.

  “Do you know much about the caves?” I asked. “Did Roberto know if the time between the centuries is fixed?” I waited while she stroked the fussy dog.

  “He apparently went back and forth quite a few times. It’s a fixed number of years. So if you’ve been gone for nine months, then you’ll return nine months after you left.” She nuzzled the dog’s head. “How will you get to the cave? Won’t you get lost?”

  “Luis takes me.”

  Amazement arched her eyebrows. “He understands that you’re leaving for good?” I nodded. “Does he know you’re from the future?”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “I have often wondered how someone from this century could understand...if they could understand.”

  I shrugged, then uncovered the fanny pack hidden under the shawl wrapped around my waist. “When I showed him this, it was pretty hard for him to grasp at first. But he trusts me. He believes me.”

  Anna stared at the pack. “Stay here, Kate. You’ll miss everything. The Catholic Church will go through major reformations in a few years. King Alfonso will continue to gain a foothold in Moorish territory. In eight years, Rodrigo Díaz will capture the crown of Valencia and start the reconquest of Spain. How can you not want to be a witness to all that and more?”

  “Just a witness? Yesterday you said you wanted to make things happen.”

  She waved a slender hand. “I didn’t make much sense yesterday, probably from the shock of seeing you. One person can’t alter history, so don’t worry. But one person can watch and marvel. So can two people.”

  When I shook my head, Anna stepped back, an odd flicker of satisfaction crossing her face. “Luis knows of the time travel, so he and I will share a secret.”

  My stomach flipped. “Stay away from Luis.”

  “Why does he take you to the cave so soon? Is he in a hurry to be rid of you?” She kissed the ridiculous little dog.

  My nostrils flared. “Luis Navarro rides out to meet pain, challenging it, facing it directly. Neither of us intends to drag this out. Now I must go.”

  “Kate, please.” She hurried across the room, useless dog now flopping in her arms. “Please don’t leave in anger. We’ll never see each other again. We’ve made different choices, and I can’t stand that we’ll be separated both by time and by angry words.”

  I nodded, then hugged her slight frame so tightly the dog squeaked. Anna stroked my back twice before I was able to pull away. “Enjoy your life with Arturo, Kate. I will watch over your husband.”

  I started to protest, but once I found the ledge in the Altamira cave at Santillana and sat down, what happened in 1086 would be, well, history. Taking care of Arturo would be much more important than wondering if Anna had flirted with Elena. I attempted a half-smile. “Once again lesbian ex-lovers go out of their way to remain friends.”

  She touched a cool hand to my cheek, then I left, heart surprisingly heavy with this first farewell.

  *

  I knew Elena waited by the stables, but I had one more destination, one more farewell. Dashing past stubborn oxen teams, noisy vendors, and two stinking manure wagons, I left the city gates for the army’s tent city. At first the men just stared as I walked among them. “Have you seen Nuño Súarez ? He is with Rodrigo Díaz.” Rude grunts and the shaking of unkempt heads were the only responses. Oh, I wished Christian men would bathe, but at least roasting meat covered some of the stench. Two men, however, decided I was a camp woman advertising my wares and followed me. Christ, I was covered in fabric from my neck to my wrists and ankles. How could that be alluring?

  “Hey, beautiful, don’t walk so fast,” one of them called.

  “She teases us,” the other said.

  Just when I thought I might have to lift my skirt and pull my dagger from its sheath, Fadri appeared from behind a tent and cursed the two so harshly they left without another word. “You should not be here alone,” he scolded as he jammed both thumbs under his sword belt.

  “I need to talk to Nuño right away.”

  Within minutes Nuño swallowed me in one of his crushing bear hugs. Men in the eleventh century were not so reticent about displaying emotions as modern men.

  “I miss you,” I whispered.

  “And I you. But why are you here? I thought you had a room in the city with Luis.”

  I looked pointedly at Fadri and the others, so Nuño waved them off. I explained my decision to leave, but instead of time travel I made up some other story that would take me away forever. “Before the army leaves for Cordoba, Luis takes me to Santillana.”

  “Not Santillana again.”

  “Nuño, Luis needs you. With me gone, she will have no one close, and I can’t leave unless I know you will be there for her.”

  The large man frowned at his hands, then rubbed them together. “I’m so afraid I will give him away.” Ever since he and I had rescued Elena from Gudesto Gonzalez, Nuño had made himself scarce for months, never once visiting us at Duañez.

  I put my hands over his. “You won’t, Nuño. I know it. Will you stop avoiding her?” He pulled back, scratched his beard, tugged on his curly bangs, then yanked on his ear lobes. “Decide before you stretch yourself all out of shape,” I said.

  He smiled, heaved a Nuño-sized sigh, then stood. “I will do as you ask.”

  I flung my arms around his neck. “Luis Navarro needs you.” I paused, then whispered, “and so does Elena Navarro.”

  “Elena,” he breathed, hearing Luis’s real name for the first time. I trusted only one person with that information—the rough-edged but devoted Nuño Súarez. “Be safe, Kate,” he murmured, and I decided I hated farewells.

  *

  For the next three days, pain was a tall, menacing shadow that rode beside Elena and me, shared our simple meals, and rested on the bedroll between us. We talked about nothing and about everything. We held hands as we rode, our horses shoulder to shoulder. The farther north we traveled, the darker the sky, the fewer wildflowers in bloom.

  I felt almost drugged, as if I had no control over my actions. I didn’t dare think about what I was doing, but instead pushed forward, like a salmon instinctively swimming back to where it had hatched.

  Just when I thought I should have come alone to spare Elena the same crushing ache consuming me, we reached Santillana del Mar, a tiny town on the northern coast. We stood on a cliff, inhaling the salty dampness as the surf crashed below us, a scattering of homes and shops clinging to the hillside sloping toward the pounding waves.

  Elena asked the older residents if they knew of a cave with many paintings of bison on its ceiling. I vaguely remembered that Altamira was discovered in the late nineteenth century, but I just could not believe earl
ier residents didn’t know it existed.

  “Up that hill, past the broken tree, and you’ll see it somewhere around there,” said a wizened old man, teeth nearly gone but eyes clear and sharp from years of watching his watery horizon. People knew of the cave, but were remarkably casual, I suppose because they had no way of knowing its age.

  After two more vague directions, Elena rolled her eyes at me and produced a shiny dirhem from Zaragoza, the modern equivalent of flashing a twenty-dollar bill. Two adolescent boys in heavy wool pants and frayed shirts, giggling and punching each other, agreed to show us the cave. “We also need torches,” Elena said. The boys disappeared and soon returned with fish-oil-soaked rags wrapped around two sticks.

  The smell of the burning torches clung to our clothes as we followed the boys. On any other day we would have stopped to eat and watch the waves, but we were both caught up in the powerful need to keep moving. The climb wasn’t bad, and the trees sparse enough for our horses to pass.

  The boys suddenly stopped before a clump of bushes, pushing the branches aside. “In here,” one said.

  “We never would have found this on our own,” I muttered as we dismounted. Elena lit both torches then paid the boys. Faces flushed with their sudden wealth, the boys crashed away down the hill while I tied our horses to the nearest tree.

  We exchanged as brave a look as we could muster, then entered the cool darkness of the Altamira cave. The ceiling nearly brushed my head, but there was enough room to stand, and the flaming torchlight danced over scratchy limestone walls.

  “Look for a ledge, someplace easy to reach from this path. There might be natural light shining above it from an overhead crack.” Our hollow voices and footsteps echoed ahead of us. Either the cave’s dry air or my own dread had dried up my saliva. The path snaked into a curve, and we entered a room, about twenty feet by ten feet that smelled of silence and mystery.

  Elena raised her torch. “Look.”

  Goosebumps raced across my arms at the sight above us. “Jesus,” I whispered. Powerful bison thundered overhead, joined by thick horses and massive wild boars. Still brilliant after all these years, the ochre, red, and black leapt off the ceiling.