"Paco, oh, Paco, does that mean I don't have to marry the Count?" Madelon breathed, hope dawning on her ashen face.
"It makes no difference whether Paco changes his mind or not," Urraca snapped. "The marriage is a royal command. Disobey it and I send my sergeant for Maratin this instant"
"I shall appeal to the king," Paco retorted.
"Against me?" Urraca laughed. "You have already lost favour with me, Paco, take care I do not have a word in my brother's ear. You may find yourself sampling the entertainments of my executioner - or even joining Maratin."
"Paco, please, it's no use," Madelon said quietly. "Thank you for coming to my help, at least tonight has brought us together again, but it's useless. If I must marry the Count of Segovia to save Valentin's life, then I will."
Paco's fingers tightened over her shoulders in a grasp which made her wince.
"Do you love him that much?" He was staring at her as if she had taken leave of her senses. "Can you really go through with this marriage and risk not only his anger, but his contempt and the loss of his love too?"
"At least he will be alive," Madelon murmured with a faint smile. "I think I am like my mother, Paco, I may not love wisely, but I love sincerely. What must I do to ensure his safety?" she asked, turning to Urraca.
"You say you were on your way to see him. He was expecting you, wasn't he?" "Yes."
"Good. Then the answer is simple. Write him a note and tell him you have decided not to run away with him after all, but to stay and marry the Count of Segovia, that you have been reconciled with your brother and he has made you see things in their right perspective. I will leave the wording of it to you - you know him so much better than I."
The implication was not lost on Madelon. She knew just what she had to say and every word cut her heart like a knife thrust. Urraca took the completed letter from her and a ripple of laughter broke from her lips as she read aloud: "Dearest Valentin,"
"Once you told me what you felt for me was the most wonderful thing you had ever known, but that if I did not feel that way we should part as friends, before we hurt each other too deeply. At the time I believed my feelings to have matched yours, now it grieves me to have to tell you, that was not so. I have thought on it for a long while and I know now I must face the fact I do not love you - and never did. I cannot therefore join you tonight. I belong here, with Paco and the day after tomorrow I am to be married to the Count of Segovia. Forgive me if I have hurt you."
"You might have signed it with something a little more endearing than just 'Madelon'. Oh, well, it will do. What charming little heart-to-heart talks you two must have had. Maratin's squire can take this to him. I suggest you warn him what will happen to his master if he attempts to see you again."
Madelon barely suppressed a cry as Stephen was pushed into the room. His face was cut and bleeding as if he had been continually punched and kicked about the head. She held the sealed letter out to him, thankful that her hands were no longer trembling.
"You will take this to your master for me," she said firmly.
Stephen looked at her curiously, oblivious to the two silent figures on either side of her.
"Are you not coming too, my lady?"
"No, Stephen, I am remaining here. You will deliver my letter and if you value your master's life, you will say nothing of what has happened tonight. We met in the street and I gave you a letter, that is all."
At the mention of his master's safety Stephen's freckled face grew grim. He nodded acquiescence and was quickly bustled out. Urraca gave a sigh and said in a relieved voice.
"Well, that's that. Are you coming down to the banquet, Paco, or do you intend to stay here and play the doting brother? It's a little late, don't you think?"
"Go to the devil," Paco retorted through clenched teeth. Only Madelon, holding on to his arm, prevented him from striking out at her smiling face.
"No, my dear, I shall go and enjoy myself. I shall leave several men outside to ensure both you and Madelon reach your rooms safely."
As the door closed behind her, Madelon turned her face against Paco's chest and began to cry weakly.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The sound of great revelry from the banquet hall beneath Madelon's room refused to let her sleep. She lay in the huge canopied bed, staring out of the open windows at the night sky. It was an uncomfortably close night without even a slight breeze to ease the heaviness of the atmosphere. The noise from the street was almost as rowdy as that coming from below, but with the window shutters closed, the heat would have been unbearable.
An untidy, threatening Diya had been waiting for her when she returned and as Madelon related how she had been forced to give her promise to marry the Count of Segovia to save Valentin's life, the maid called upon all the gods shejcould think of to strike Urraca dead upon the spot. Madelon did not try to soothe the furious girl. She felt the same way herself, but was unable to give way to her feelings so colorfully. Diya said everything she thought, but could not put into words.
Paco had held her close and kissed her before they parted. He was suffering too, she realized. He both loved and hated Urraca now and she began to fear for his safety. His disgust at the whole situation and particularly the way he had allowed himself to be used might prompt him into doing something foolish.
Madelon gave up trying to sleep. Pulling on a silk robe, she stepped carefully over the figure of the sleeping Diya, stretched out at the foot of the bed, and sat on a stool by the window, watching the townsfolk below who were still celebrating despite the lateness of the hour. Valentin would have received her letter by now. What was he doing, she wondered sadly, sitting in his lodgings hating her, or trying to forget the plans they had made in the arms of another woman or with a bottle? Aiya, Yusuf's favourite wife had been wrong, she and Valentin were not destined for each other. With a sigh she leant her aching head against the window frame and dozed from sheer exhaustion.
The sound of shouting from below jerked her into wakefulness. There were soldiers in the street below. Her eyes widened as she saw the emblem of Sancho of Castile emblazoned on their tunics. Castilians! But that was impossible, the moment the news of their entry into the town reached Alfonso, he would order his brother's death. Who had commanded the soldiers to enter so openly and with such lack of thought for their imprisoned king? She strained her ears for sounds of fighting from below her room. How strange - the sounds of revelry from the banquet hall had ceased. No laughter - no shouting - no sounds of fighting. What was happening? At the heavy tramp of footsteps on the stairs she jumped to her feet and shook Diya into wakefulness.
The door was swung open and Castilian men-at-arms crowded in, their weapons menacing the two women who stood clasped protectively in each other's arms.
"What do you want? How dare you force an entry into my room, don't you know who I am?" Madelon cried indignantly.
"They know, Dona Madelon." A giant of a man with a flaming red beard pushed his way through the men to confront her. For a long moment Rodrigo de Vivar stared into the lovely face of the woman who had, so he believed, deceived his best friend, and his lips curled into a contemptuous twist. "You will be confined in this room until morning," he growled.
"So Valentin had a plan after all," Madelon murmured. "We are prisoners then, Don Rodrigo?"
"That you are, prisoners of King Sancho."
"Thank God!" To Rodrigo's surprise Madelon sank down on to the bed, relief flooding into her face. Bright tears sparkled in her eyes as she looked up at him. "Valentin is safe?"
"Safe and well. He's with the king. Tomorrow Sancho accepts the fealty of Santa Maria de Carrion and that of his brother Alfonso and his treacherous subjects. Then we leave to crown him in the cathedral at Leon. Why should you care anyway?" He stepped close to Madelon, his eyes blazing furiously. "If I had my way I'd - I'd - never mind, it would be unpleasant anyway. Do you know what your lies and deceit have done to htm? Overnight he's changed so that even I don't recognize him. He won't
even talk to me - his best friend."
"I deserve your anger and Valentin's too," Madelon answered, "but what I did was to save his life. If you will send your men away I will tell you everything, on the condition you keep it to yourself."
Rodrigo glared at her. He did hot want to stay and listen to more carefully concocted lies, but the sight of Madelon's tear-streaked face was enough to move even the hardest man and Rodrigo, despite his rough exterior, had the softest of hearts. At his command the room was cleared. Madelon told him all that had happened to her since the last fateful meeting with Valentin, sparing neither herself nor Paco in the detailed explanation.
"If this is true, then Valentin must know," Rodrigo muttered when she had finished. He was not altogether sure it was true, but was more than half-way persuaded. Although he no longer regarded her as a scheming adventuress, he could not forget the terrible look of pain on Valentin's face as he had read Madelon's letter, which he had burnt directly afterwards without showing it to his friend. The wound was deep, too deep to heal perhaps.
"With Sancho on the throne of Leon, Valentin's safety is assured," Madelon said. "What would he think if I went to him now and said I loved him? No, Don Rodrigo, I must remain with my brother and await the king's decision on our future."
"It may not be a favourable one, you realize that, don't you? He is your cousin, but he has no love for your brother.
No harm will befall you, of that I am certain, but him... you had better be prepared for the worst, Dona Madelon."
"I know it and I am quite prepared." Madelon rose to her feet. In the flickering candlelight her face was pale and tired, yet she had never looked more proud, more courageous. Even Rodrigo was impressed by her bearing and promised Diya would be allowed to come and go from the room unhindered so that Madelon would not be inconvenienced. He even kissed her hand before leaving.
"You are mad," Diya gasped. "Here you are with all your problems solved and you don't take advantage of the situation."
Madelon slipped off her robe and climbed into bed. Were her problems solved, or just beginning with Paco's uncertain future? If Sancho ever comes to the throne I shall be thrown into the deepest dungeon they can find and the key tossed away, he had once joked.
"I'm tired," was her only answer and she fell into a deep sleep the moment her head touched the pillow. A determined expression came over Diya's face as she watched her. Making sure she was comfortable, the maid opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. The sentry posted in the corridor stepped forward to halt her, but then recognizing her as the personal maid of the woman he was there to watch and remembering Don Rodrigo's specific instructions, he stepped back and allowed her to pass without a word. Diya slipped silently down the stairs, praying she would be back before Madelon awoke.
***
Diya came back from the kitchens next morning, full of gossip obtained from the servants. The whole town was buzzing with the news of the great banquet Alfonso had held to celebrate his victory - a banquet where the food and drink had been liberally dosed with a strong sleeping potion. By the time Valentin Maratin and Rodrigo appeared at the head of a specially chosen band of Castilian soldiers some hours before dawn, the whole company was fast asleep. Even
Sancho, not wanting to appear suspicious, had sampled enough food to make him almost insensible. The few Leonese soldiers in the town gave little fight once they learned not only their king, but the whole of his court was in Castilian hands. From the camp outside the town came the remaining Castilians and by morning not a Leonese flag or soldier was to be seen anywhere.
"It's said when the Dona Urraca awoke this morning, she flew into such a rage her maids fled in terror and when they went back they found she'd torn up all her gowns," Diya laughed. "She will have to borrow one she lent you to appear before the king this morning."
The smile vanished from Madelon's face as the moment of amusement passed. She, too, had to face Sancho this morning, along with Paco and all the other members of the Leonese court Nothing drastic would happen to her, of that she was sure. Sancho might banish her to her estates, or even send her back to the convent, but neither of these things were as terrible as the punishment he would mete out to Paco for being Alfonso's right-hand and Urraca's pawn.
"Help me to dress, Diya. No, not the blade, cousin Sancho will not be swayed by my appearance. The yellow satin Dona Francesca gave me will do very well. And my rubies and the pearl ring. No, nothing else. Leave my hair loose. Wait, there is something else." From the coffer where her clothes were kept, Madelon took out her mother's ring with the Moorish inscriptions on it. Somehow it seemed appropriate to wear it now. With a smile she slipped it on to her finger.
She had just finished dressing when there came a knock on the door. She expected a soldier, or the Cid, and was surprised and delighted when Paco came in. She glimpsed three men-at-arms stationed outside before the door closed behind him. With a glad cry she threw herself into his arms and smothered his pale face with kisses.
"Paco! They haven't harmed you, have they? Oh, I was so worried."
Paco held her at arm's length, unable to conceal the astonishment he felt at seeing her. When Rodrigo de Vivar had told him she too was under guard he had not believed it.
"Why aren't you with him?" he demanded harshly.
"Because you have need of me," came the quiet answer.
Shame flooded into Paco's face at her sacrifice. When she needed him he had turned his back on her, but now at least a way had presented itself for him to end the unfavourable alliance with the House of Segovia and also to end his affair with Urraca. At the same time it could result in his death or imprisonment for an unpleasant number of years, but if Madelon was free to live her own life, at least he would have made some atonement for past mistakes.
"You are like our mother," he murmured gently, "and you should be proud of it. It has taken me all these years to realize what a wonderful person she really was."
He wanted to say so much more, to put her mind at rest, but the door opened to reveal the Sergeant-at-Arms with an armed escort, who announced Paco's presence was required in the Great Hall below. The sight of them made Madelon feel decidedly uneasy. Sancho obviously had no intention of allowing his prize prisoner a chance of escape. With a defiant little smile, she tucked her arm beneath Paco's and together they left the room. Ahead of them were Alfonso and Urraca, also heavily guarded. As they walked the long corridors and descended the stairs, they argued violently, causing much amusement among their escort who gained great pleasure and satisfaction from the sight of their enemies glaring at each other and each blaming the other for the disaster which had overtaken them. Madelon felt a little sorry for the weak-willed Alfonso, who was utterly cowed beneath his sister's spasmodic outbursts of temper. For Urraca she felt nothing. Her cousin would no doubt find a way out of her difficult position.
At the end of the long passageway leading to the Great Hall where she could see Sancho seated on a magnificent throne covered in rich fine velvet, waiting to receive the oath of allegiance from his new subjects, stood a tall figure dressed in dark green. Madelon's steps faltered as she saw the huge golden eagle embroidered on the man's doublet and she felt Paco's grasp tighten on her.
Valentin allowed Urraca and Alfonso to pass him without a word. Signalling the soldiers guarding Paco to fall back, he stepped towards them, blocking their way into the room. Madelon's nerves were near to breaking point. She had been dreading the encounter she knew must come some time, and Paco felt her begin to tremble.
"You have no business with us, Maratin," he said in a low, fierce whisper. Through the half-open door he could see Alfonso kissing Sancho's hand and faintly Urraca's voice drifted back to him as she began a speech. She would be as as eloquent as always - and as devious, he mused.
"I have something to say to your sister," Valentin retorted coldly. He stepped closer to Madelon and for a moment she thought he meant to wrench her out of her brother's grasp, but his hands fell away
and his face became unreadable. "Did you mean everything you wrote in your letter?"
Madelon clung tightly to Paco's arm, feeling suddenly faint. Why had he chosen this moment to force a showdown? She was in a state of nervous exhaustion which caused the tears to start to her eyes at the slightest upset.
"Yes," her voice was hardly audible.
"Then the story you told Rodrigo was pure fabrication?"
"He... he told you. He gave me his most sacred oath..." Madelon cried.
"Your maid paid me a visit early this morning while you were asleep. She doesn't think your brother is worthy of the sacrifice you are making. She explained a great many things." Valentin's pale eyes held hers and the expression in them made her grow weak at the knees. He loved her still - it blazed out of his eyes for all to see.
"Then you know why I wrote that letter," she whispered, "and why we must forget the plans we made. Circumstances are different now."
Valentin's gaze flickered over her shoulder to Pace's stony face and his mouth tightened into a grim line. With a low oath he caught Madelon's arms and pulled her against him, kissing her with a fierce possessiveness that made her senses reel. Paco stood helpless to intervene, hemmed in by men-at-arms the moment he had stepped forward towards his sister.
"Well?" Valentin demanded as Madelon withdrew trembling from his embrace. "Are you still ready to turn your back on my love to stand by a man who was willing to abandon you to his mistress's schemes, willing to toss you into the arms of Gaspar Vivaldes to be used and humiliated ..."
"It's no use," Madelon broke in quietly. Somehow she held back the tears and ruthlessly squashed the wonderful feelings Valentin's kisses had roused in her. "As readily as I was willing to save your life, so I am now prepared to stand by my brother in his hour of need. If you truly love me, Valentin, don't make this any more torturous for me." Quickly she broke from him and followed Paco to the door of the Great Hall. On impulse she stopped and looked back into Valentin's disbelieving face. "I love you," she whispered. "I will always love you, no matter what happens here today."
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