Loving Lies

by Tina Donahue

  “Isabella.”

  Diego barked again. She pummeled Fernando’s arm until he released her. The moment he did, she threw the damp hose. The garment hit his chest before dropping into the stream. As the gentle current carried it one direction, Isabella splashed through the water toward the bank. When Fernando finally had his hose back, she and the galgo had already returned to the fire.

  * * * *

  What was she going to do now? Fernando had heard her foolish declaration. More lies wouldn’t convince him otherwise. Another deception would only deepen his anger and hatred of her when the truth came out.

  She sank to the ground and held back tears. How could she admit her love when she had no right to it? How could she deny her feelings when they were the only truth within her countless lies? How could she face him when he returned?

  The sounds he made told her he was washing himself and his garments.

  Diego suddenly made noises short of a growl.

  The splashing had stopped. Fernando was coming back.

  “Quiet.” After wrapping her arm around the dog’s torso, she brought him close and lay on the ground pretending to sleep.

  * * * *

  Fernando stopped short of the scene Isabella had created so he wouldn’t question her further. As she feigned sleep, her shoulders trembled.

  He shook his head and spread his garments across a stout branch to dry.

  Diego whined, clearly wanting to be free. Fernando sank to his knees on the other side of the fire and cleared his throat.

  Isabella flinched at the noise then tried to relax as she would during sleep. Although Diego kept squirming, she wouldn’t release him. Her shoulders rose and fell with her strained breathing.

  Fernando stared at her silky hair and smooth cheeks as he again considered her abduction. The deception began there. A man she knew had ordered it. They might have been in love, but he could never have her because she was already betrothed.

  His attention dipped lower. The galgo hid her belly.

  She’d said her virginity wasn’t at question or at stake. She’d promised to obey him in every way if he waited to have her until after they wed. By waiting, she could prove the coming infant was his. However, what if she wanted to wait for another reason?

  Although he was relatively certain none of Isabella’s captors had taken her virginity, he had to wonder about the man who’d ordered her abduction. He might have impregnated her. Fearing what her betrothed might do on the matter, he might have protected himself by having her taken to Granada.

  Isabella had told Fernando he deserved more than a woman who was unworthy of him.

  Because she carried another man’s child? Had she resisted lying with him, hoping to keep him from learning she wasn’t a virgin? What of their coming union? He couldn’t imagine she’d wait to tell him until seconds before he mounted her, unless she planned to avoid the event for as long as possible by delaying their arrival at her papá’s castle.

  Surely, she realized once there he’d learn the truth of her past from others. Of course, once there, faithful servants would surround her. Some of them might even be brave enough to keep him from raging against her.

  Did she fear him so much?

  She still feigned sleep, her legs jerking from tension. She kept tightening her arm around the galgo, even though the creature wanted to escape.

  “Release the dog before he bites you.”

  She seemed uncertain whether to do as Fernando had asked or to continue her pretense. Diego broke free, settling the matter.

  Her loose clothing hid her belly. He recalled her nudity when they’d been in the stream and last night in the venta. Her stomach was slightly rounded, yet so were the bellies of every other woman he’d been with. It told him nothing. She told him nothing. Yet her response to his passion never seemed to lie. He remembered how she trembled in delight at his touch. Had she done the same with the other man?

  Fernando pushed his fingers through his hair, dragging it back. He didn’t want to know. If she’d been with another man there had to be a reasonable explanation. Perhaps he’d seduced or raped her. He’d surely betrayed her and would pay for his crime as soon as Fernando learned his identity. Until such time, what mattered most was what she’d said when she thought him asleep. She loved him. Fernando wouldn’t consider anything else.

  He inhaled deeply and sighed. “We need to continue our journey.”

  Her breathing grew harsh. She kept her eyes closed.

  His chest ached now as it had before. Around her, he always seemed to hurt, and yet he didn’t mind the pain. “I love you, my queen.”

  Isabella looked at him.

  His heart sank at the sorrow on her face, the dread behind it. In battle, he’d always considered himself a courageous man. With Isabella, he had no courage. Her expression defeated him. “Does my love trouble you?”

  Her eyes brimmed with tears. “How can you love me, Fernando? You know so little about me.”

  “I know enough.”

  “You know nothing.”

  “Tell me everything so I do.”

  She pulled her legs to her chest and wept.

  He circled the fire and sank to his knees at her side. “There is naught to fear. No matter what you tell me, it would never change how I feel.”

  Her tears said she didn’t believe him.

  He gathered her to him and stroked her back as she wept. She had yet to trust him, in many ways she feared him, and yet her words as he’d slept spoke of her love.

  The same as he adored her. It was too late to go back on the matter. They belonged together…someday they might even fully trust each other.

  “We best go. Even Diego agrees.”

  The galgo tried to push his snout between them.

  Fernando smiled. “Our son is jealous.”

  “Only a little and only until he separates us.”

  “Never. I allow no beast or man to come between you and me.”

  Isabella looked at him with such sadness he feared she might weep again. He glanced in the direction of the road. “We best go now.”

  She fingered tears from her eyes. “You should get dressed first, no?”

  He lifted her hair in his hand. “We both should. Where did you leave your hat?”

  “Diego ate it when I refused to give him the rabbits.”

  Fernando gave her a scolding look. She smiled. It made him love her even more.

  As he dressed, she hid her hair beneath the sack hat, pulled on her ankle boots, and played with Diego as though she’d forgotten the last moments, even though she hadn’t. She stopped repeatedly to steal glances at him.

  He pretended not to notice and asked no more questions. When the truth came out, it would be because she wanted him to know, and because she’d come to trust him as much as she had fallen in love.

  Chapter 9

  In the following hours, Isabella made certain to lag behind Fernando so she could watch him. He, in turn, pretended not to notice what she was doing.

  And so it went. He remained alert to outside dangers, while she remained his biggest threat, unwilling to reveal her continuing deception.

  She kept expecting him to question her further. He said nothing. At times, he stared into the distance when she suspected he was actually listening to her footfalls. Making certain she followed as he waited for her to offer a truth she couldn’t reveal, especially after he’d declared his love.

  What a moment that had been. He’d given her what she craved most, and what she couldn’t have. Each step brought them closer to the truth and him despising her. He might even hate Sancha, a gentle soul, who would likely hate him in return. Unless they fell in love because of the children they’d surely share. Sweet, innocent babes Isabella already begrudged and didn’t want to see born.

  Sighing deeply, she tried to avoid such horrible thoughts and concentrate on a way to deter or delay the journey. As she and Fernando walked un
til dusk, nothing came to mind. At last, Isabella was so exhausted she sank to the ground.

  Fernando stopped and glanced from her to Diego.

  She shook her head. “You cannot carry us both.”

  “Remove your hose.”

  She did no such thing. “Why?”

  “I can tie them around the galgo’s neck, dragging him as I carry you.”

  She slumped to her side, resting her head on her arm. “We need to rest.”

  In the end, Fernando allowed her and the dog to sleep beneath the stars as he kept watch.

  The next day was the same. They walked until Isabella could go no farther or begged him to stop so Diego could hunt. As the galgo did and as she cooked the meat, Fernando would slumber briefly.

  The strain showed. His stride began to falter. His pace was far slower than it had been at the start of their journey. Although Isabella had hoped for a delay, she hardly wanted it at his expense and prayed once they were at the posada he’d allow himself prolonged rest.

  “How far have we come?” she asked, as the last of that day’s sun streamed through the trees. “How far till we reach the inn?”

  “Not far.”

  They continued as moonlight washed over the land, its silvery rays eating away the shadows. However, each time she insisted he stop and sleep, he claimed he wasn’t infirm or old.

  Oh, this man. “Given how you refuse even the briefest rest, you will never be old. I fear you may perish before the morrow.”

  He grunted.

  Isabella fell silent once more.

  She’d given up hope of ever stopping when faint lights appeared in the distance. Her pulse raced at the structure they neared, oil lamps or torches lighting its windows. At last, they’d reached the posada that hopefully offered cooked food and a real bed.

  She broke into an unsteady trot. Fernando gripped her wrist, stopping her. As they remained hidden in the thicket, he studied the area.

  No danger appeared to be here, only travelers’ mounts in the stable or tethered to the trees for a quick departure, and a chance, at last, for Fernando to sleep a full night, perhaps two. Afterward, she figured he’d gain a mule or horse to speed their arrival to her papá’s castle. How far was it now? Did the posada and the village beyond lie within its realm? Although her papá had owned countless villages and numerous castles, she had no idea what distance they were from his greatest manor. Nor could she ask Fernando. He’d suspect her question was a prelude to delaying their journey.

  After finishing his newest yawn, he released her wrist to finger the tresses dangling free of her hat. “Tomás, dear brother, it appears you allowed your hair to grow quite long. You resemble a girl.”

  “Brave Fernando, I offered to shear it, yet you refused. Give me your dagger, I will do so now.”

  He cupped her face and drew his thumb over her cheek. “I would beat you if you tried.”

  “Given your fatigue, you would hardly be able to catch me if I chose to escape your blows.”

  “Is your plan to escape me?”

  He sounded so serious her smile faded. “No. I will never leave your—” Isabella stopped before making a promise she couldn’t possibly keep. She looked past him.

  Fernando glanced over. “What do you see?”

  A future without him. She lied, “A goat moving around, nothing more.”

  He looked at Diego, who seemed unaware of the phantom animal. “Go on.” Fernando gestured for her to continue. “Finish what you were saying.”

  She gave him the only truth she could. “I have no desire to escape you.” He looked so weary tenderness and sorrow overwhelmed her. “Have you fought sleep these past nights because you expected me to flee?”

  He ran his hand over his mouth, stifling another yawn. “As I said before, you walk with the vigor of a mortally wounded animal or a noble lady who has been far too pampered. The only man you could escape would be one who allows it.” He leaned down to her until their lips nearly touched. “I am not such a man. I remained awake to protect you. To do so now, I demand you fully hide your hair.” He straightened. “Make yourself presentable for this palace.”

  The posada was hardly that, though it made the venta seem like a sty in comparison. This inn had a sturdy roof while the scent of cooking food, though plain, was agreeable.

  As she and Fernando reached the structure and the raucous laughter inside, Isabella kept as quiet as she could. “When you speak with the landlord, should I wait here with Diego?”

  “Sí. Keep your head down and this in your hand.” He gave her his dagger. “Use it if any man dares touch you. Drive it into his throat, chest, or belly.”

  Crude laughter spilled from the inn. To Isabella’s way of thinking, those inside seemed happily drunk and in no mood to fight or be murdered. “If I remain in the shadows, I have no need of this.”

  Fernando pushed her hand away. “Keep it. And lower your head.”

  She did even better, finding a shadowed spot to the side of the opened door. After sinking next to Diego, she rested her cheek against him to remain fully hidden. Fernando nodded his approval and entered the structure fragrant with the scents of smoke and roasting meat.

  Her belly growled. She looked forward to an evening of another’s fare and the prospect of a real bed with a mattress. If the inn provided such luxury, she’d offer the bed to Fernando as she kept watch. He’d argue, of course, until fatigue felled him. She shook her head at his stubbornness and was mulling on how to deal with it when a burst of laughter rang out.

  Isabella flinched.

  A burly man exited the inn. His belly jiggled with each step as he ate the last of a pigeon breast. Grease shone on his thick lips, bits of meat stuck to his bristly chin. Two fingers were missing from his right hand, one from his left.

  She stared at those uneven stubs, wondering if his injuries were the result of some conflict with the Moors because he’d once been a warrior.

  He belched loudly, as did another of the three men behind him. They appeared to be traveling together. Every one of them had been drinking. They staggered, their words slurred as they sang a song about a sweet virgin who’d turned into a shrew on her wedding night and remained so for the rest of her husband’s life.

  Isabella tensed, praying for them to leave.

  The men stepped closer to where she and Diego hid. After the song, two of them scratched their underarms and bellies as they waited for their burly companion to finish his greasy meat. After an intolerable wait, he finally tossed the bones aside.

  Diego wrenched from her.

  Isabella gasped. Before she could order the dog to return or think to haul him back, the burly man stalked closer to Diego.

  “You filthy beast,” he said as Diego sniffed the bones to see if the food was to his liking. “You think you have the right to finish my meal? Get away from what I paid for.”

  Before Diego could obey, the man kicked him in the head. The galgo tumbled over and laid limp, blood pouring out of its mouth.

  Isabella ran to him. “How could you do such a thing?” She glared at the man. “For what reason? Puto.” She spat.

  The man’s companions exchanged glances. Puto was the vilest word in the Spanish language, the greatest insult one could give another.

  “The boy has a sharp tongue, no?” one of them asked.

  “A foolish tongue,” another answered.

  The burly man lunged for her.

  Isabella slashed his hand with the dagger. “Puto.”

  His companions backed away. He did not. He stared at the wound she’d inflicted, his expression not quite believing it. He bunched his shoulders, his chest heaving with his hard breaths. “For your insult you will die, but only after you watch me skin your filthy beast.”

  Isabella brandished the dagger. “Touch him again and you die.”

  The man growled and pounced. Suddenly, Fernando’s arm was around the brute’s shoulders, yanking him back.
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  Isabella gaped. When the man’s shock wore off, he struggled mightily until Fernando rested the blade of his sword against his throat and bared his teeth. “You dare fight me?”

  The man stopped struggling.

  The others backed away, heading for their mounts.

  “Help me!” the man shouted. “We can take—”

  His words stopped at Fernando’s blade pressing into his fleshy neck. A trickle of blood ran to the man’s shoulder.

  Fernando kept his blade on the wound. “You dare ask others to fight me?”

  Again, the lout stopped squirming.

  His companions fled the scene, their mounts stirring up dust. Inside the posada, laughter rose and fell. Here, it was so quiet Isabella heard each beat of her hammering heart.

  “I beg of you,” the man said. “It was only a galgo. You have no reason to harm me over a dog.”

  “You ask for mercy? The same as you showed the galgo and would have shown the boy, or is this what you had in mind?”

  Fernando ran his blade over the man’s jaw, his shoulder, and arm. The wounds he inflicted were shallow but bled freely, staining the brute’s dirty garments.

  “Please. I beg of you, let me go.”

  “Leave here now or die.” Fernando shoved the man toward his horse.

  Without a backward glance, he removed the tether, mounted, and rode away.

  “Come.” Fernando clamped his hand on Isabella’s wrist. “The landlord promised us his chamber for the night. After I see you to it, I can return for the galgo.”

  “No. Please tend to Diego first.”

  After sheathing his sword, Fernando sank to one knee by the dog. To Isabella’s relief, Diego was growing alert. Fernando scooped the trembling creature in his arms. “The oil lamp and our basket of food are outside the door. See to them, but keep your face lowered.”

  With her head down, she followed Fernando around the back of the building to the chamber. A chipped clay bowl for bathing rested on a crudely constructed table. A bed stood to the side. The window faced a courtyard.