Historical fiction; Inquisition -- Fiction; Spain -- History -- Ferdinand and Isabella, 1479-1516 -- Fiction
In an apartment, whose pale, green hangings, embroidered with
richly-colored flowers, and whose furniture and ornaments, all of
delicate material and refined taste, marked it as a meet boudoir for
gentle blood, sat Marie and her husband. She occupied her favorite
seat--a cushion at his feet, and was listening with interest to his
animated history of the Sovereign's welcome to Saragossa, the popular
ferment at their appearance, the good they had accomplished, and would
still accomplish, as their judicious plans matured. It was clear, he
said, that they had resolved the sovereign power should not be merely
nominal, as it had been. By making himself proclaimed and received
as grand master of the three great orders of knighthood--Saint
Iago, Compostella, and Alcantara--the immense influence of those
associations must succumb to, and be guided by, Ferdinand alone; the
power of the nobles would thus be insensibly diminished, and the mass
of the kingdom--the PEOPLE--as a natural consequence, become of more
importance, their position more open to the eyes of the sovereigns,
and their condition, physically and morally, ameliorated and improved.
"I feel and acknowledge this, dearest; though one of the class whose
power must be diminished to accomplish it;" he continued, "I am too
anxious for the internal prosperity of my country to quarrel with any
measures which minds so enlightened as its present sovereigns may deem
requisite. But this is but a grave theme for thee, love. Knowest
thou that her Grace reproached me with not bringing thee to join the
Arragonese festivities? When Donna Emilie spoke of thee, and thy
gentle worth and feminine loveliness, as being such as indeed her
Grace would love, my Sovereign banished me her presence as a disloyal
cavalier for so deserting thee; and when I marked how pale and thin
thou art, I feel that she was right; I should have borne thee with
me."
"Or not have left me. Oh, my husband, leave me not again!" she
replied, with sudden and involuntary emotion, which caused him to
throw his arm round her, and fondly kiss her brow.
"Not for the court, dearest; but that gentle heart must not forget
thou art a warrior's wife, and as such, for his honor's sake, must
sometimes bear the pang of parting. Nay, thou tremblest, and art still
paler! Ere such summons come, thou wilt have learned to know and love
thy Queen, and in her protecting favor find some solace, should I be
called to war."
"War! talk they of war again? I thought all was now at peace?"
"Yes, love, in our sovereign's hereditary dominions; but there can be
no lasting peace while some of the fairest territory of Spain still
dims the supremacy of Castile, and bows down to Moorish masters. It is
towards Grenada King Ferdinand looks, yearning for the day when, all
internal commotions healed, he can head a gallant army to compel
subjection; and sad as it will be to leave thee, sweet, thou wilt
forgive thy soldier if he say, would that the day were come!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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