The message of blood, p.20
The Message of Blood, page 20
“Did Castellana tell you about Jorge?” he asked. He expected her to come to stand beside him. Instead her arms snaked around his waist and closed over his belly. Her breasts pressed against his back. Her scent enveloped him, washing away the doubts that plagued him.
“Some time ago, when I came to Córdoba. But like her, I thought him dead. Why would I not?”
“When did she tell you?”
“At the end of summer, so a little more than a month.”
“What did she say?” Thomas flinched as Eleanor’s fingers began to play with the tie of his breeches. He knew he should stop her, but his will had drained away like water into dry soil.
“She told me she believed her son dead. I do not think she would have told me anything about him, but I made a confession to her, just as I made my confession to Rodrigo.”
“De Borja?”
“Yes.”
“What did you confess?” Eleanor’s fingers had almost completed their work and began on the next stage of her seduction. In the distance men on horseback rode along the river’s edge. “Is that Gabriel and Yves?” Thomas asked. Another group of four riders appeared, staying a hundred paces behind the pair.
“They have become the best of friends. The very best of friends.” Eleanor tugged Thomas around and held his face in her hands. “I want you to undress me as I have undressed you, and then I want you to make love to me, but slower than we did the last time. I want you to mean it this time.”
“I meant it last time.”
“That was all rush and the ache of memory. I want this to be with the man you have become. You must have improved your abilities with women by now.” She turned her face up so he could kiss her, and then when it was done she took his hand and led him to another door he had not seen, beyond which lay her bedroom.
A long time later, Thomas lay beside her, watching a line of sunlight mark the minutes as it crept across the floor.
“Now, that was better, was it not?” said Eleanor. She lay on her front, her skin damp with sweat, her hair disarranged.
“What did Castellana say to you about Jorge?”
She slapped his belly with the back of her hand. “Questions. Always questions. Why do you want to know everything?”
“Because he is my friend, and he is only out of prison on de Borja’s word. He is accused of murder and not yet proven innocent. Fernando would have him hang, I am convinced.”
Eleanor smiled. “But not Isabel.” She kissed his chest. “Have you lain like this with her?”
“Of course not.”
“She wants you to, you know. I heard the way she said your name when we saw you in the palace.”
“Was that before or after Castellana told you about Jorge?”
“Stop it.”
“I will if you answer my question.”
Eleanor rose up and straddled him. “I will answer when we are finished for the second time, while you recover for the third.”
The line of sunlight fell across Thomas’s foot, marking the passage of an hour. He glanced at the window, judging the lateness of the day. Eleanor once more lay on her front while she played with the hair on his chest, touching the scars that few others knew about.
“Now?” Thomas said.
Eleanor sighed. “Will you stay the night with me?”
“I can’t. I have to return to Qurtuba.”
“I like how that name sounds when you speak it. All right, but promise me one more bout and promise to make it the best yet and I will tell you anything you ask.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“What did you confess to de Borja?”
She slapped his chest. “Anything except that.”
“When did Castellana discover Jorge was still alive?”
“Recently, and by accident. She said that Fernando told her, let slip your name and the name of your companion when they were lying as we lie now.”
“So she is his mistress? I heard him boast of it, but was not sure. He is not a handsome man.”
“Neither are you, unlike your friend. It is a shame he is a eunuch or I would try to seduce him.”
Thomas laughed. “I think if you did, you would have a surprise. He remains half a man.”
“You know this?”
“It was me who made him what he is, so of course I know it. But don’t distract yourself from your answer. How did she know Fernando spoke of her son? Jorge isn’t so unusual a name, and I’m sure Fernando will have mentioned him.”
“She told me he did, more so I suspect to boast about the potency of his own. She said the name sparked some curiosity, so she went to the man who placed Jorge. She had looked before and been told he was dead, now she wanted confirmation. What she got instead was a shock. The son she gave up was alive and here in Córdoba.” She tried to pronounce it as Thomas had and laughed when she failed. “Here in Córdoba with a man named Thomas Berrington. A man I once loved.”
Thomas turned his head and kissed her, laid his hand on her lean flank. “Do you not still love me?”
“I am making up my mind. We are different people, are we not? And you are yet to convince me of your skills as a lover. I have a mind to ask the eunuch to join us.”
“He would no doubt enjoy the challenge, but he is faithful to his woman these days.”
Eleanor rolled on her side. She gripped his wrist and encouraged his hand to explore further.
“He has a wife?”
“Something like that.”
“But he cannot give her children.”
“No.”
“I am too old to have more children, Thomas. Too set in my ways to marry again. You do not expect that, do you?”
Thomas laughed. “No, I don’t expect that. How did Castellana feel about finding her son again?”
“She was angry.”
“Angry?”
“It is why I am surprised at how she is treating him in the other room.”
“Will they wonder where we are?”
“Castellana will know what we are doing.”
“So will Jorge. Why was Castellana angry?”
“She told me she had forgotten all about him until Fernando made that stupid remark. I think once she would truly have taken him back into her household, but not now. She is a wealthy woman, and her son jealous of his own position.” She rolled on to her back and pulled Thomas on top of her. “Clearly she has changed her mind if what we both witnessed is genuine.”
“Do you think it was?”
“I think nothing, Thomas. Now stop talking and prove yourself to me as the man you once were.”
“Why could we not stay the night?” Jorge rode beside Thomas through the soft light of the last hour of the day, the sun a giant orb hovering above the horizon ahead of them. “I wanted to stay.”
“And Eleanor wanted me to stay, too,” Thomas said.
“Would that have been such a bad thing? She is a handsome woman. One whose body you are already intimately familiar with. Is that what you were doing while Mother and I talked?”
“Mother now, is it? Eleanor doesn’t want me other than as a toy to play with. I will not allow it again.” Thomas rode on for a moment in silence before realising Jorge had managed to distract him from what he wanted to know. “What happened when you met Gabriel?”
“My brother Gabriel?”
“Half-brother.”
Jorge waved a hand in dismissal at such an unimportant distinction. “He doesn’t like me. I believe he thinks I have come to steal his fortune. An elder brother, more handsome, more clever. Well, more handsome anyway, and I know people far better than he does. I don’t like those men he had with him. I overheard two speaking and their accents are almost exactly the same as those men who attacked me.”
Thomas slowed. “Could they be the same men, do you think?” He was thinking of what Eleanor had told him, of Castellana’s anger, and Gabriel’s malice.
“How can they be? Not that I would recognise them if they were. They don’t look much like the men I saw in the moment before I was hit. Besides, why would they be all the way out here? What did you do with Usaden?”
“He’s gone back to the city with Kin. I think they got tired waiting for us. Kin is more his dog than mine these days.”
“Except Kin doesn’t know that. Did you send them back? Why?”
Thomas sighed. “In case we did have to stay the night. I wasn’t going to have him sleep in the stables like some servant.”
“Where would you have slept, Thomas? With your lover?”
Jorge had done it again, changing the subject.
“Does Gabriel know who his father is?”
“I expect so. Mother doesn’t appear to hold anything back, does she?” Jorge smiled. “I like her. That is good, isn’t it? I may not have. There is no guarantee I would, but she is clever and sharp, and I like her a lot.”
“I am pleased.”
“So am I.” Jorge glanced around, no doubt barely seeing anything, unlike Thomas, who was aware of the group of riders who had been following them for some time. “Gabriel doesn’t like me and I don’t think he ever will.”
“You must be losing your charm.”
“No doubt that will be it. It is a shame I don’t have a sister, I am far better with women than men.”
“Even if she was your half-sister?”
“I did not mean I would—”
Jorge did not finish what he was about to say because at that moment the men following them kicked their horses into a gallop, and Thomas said, “Ride. Ride fast!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
There were six men riding hard after them, Gabriel and four of his companions, and a sixth who Thomas thought might be Yves. What he didn’t know was the business they had with him and Jorge, other than the obvious. Gabriel had made it clear he didn’t like the idea of having a brother.
Thomas steered his horse closer to Jorge and shouted, “Do you think you can fight your brother?”
“Why?”
“Because that is who is behind us.” Thomas glanced back. “And they are gaining.” Their pursuers had good horses, and he and Jorge were riding mounts borrowed from Daniel, not intended for speed. It had been something Thomas had not considered when selecting them.
Jorge slowed and it took Thomas a moment to notice. When he did, he pulled his horse up and turned to see Jorge waiting as the men bore down on him. Thomas cursed the affability Jorge thought could win over the entire world. Despite Gabriel showing no love for his brother, Thomas didn’t believe he meant him any harm. Even so, as the group reached Jorge they surrounded him and words were exchanged.
Thomas encouraged his horse toward them. As he approached, one of the riders came out to meet him.
“This is none of your business.” His voice was soft with the accent of Roma and Thomas experienced a moment of fear. Two men of Roma had attacked Jorge, the same as the men who the fire starter de Parma had described.
“Did Rodrigo de Borja send you, or are you here without his orders?”
“Who?” Which only confirmed Thomas’s suspicion de Borja could be involved. No-one from Roma would be ignorant of the man’s name. He wondered how he could take the information to Isabel, and if he did whether she would do anything with it. And then the man said, “Stay out of this fight, it is nothing to do with you.”
“Jorge is my friend. Of course it is to do with me.”
“Gabriel says he is not going to kill him, but he has to be taught a lesson.” The man laughed. “He’s going to show him who rules here. Who will inherit.”
Thomas leaned to one side to look past the man and confirmed that the sixth figure was indeed Yves. He sat astride his horse to one side, as if distancing himself from what was about to happen. Thomas rode toward the man, pushing past when he turned his horse in an attempt to block his path. He took care in case he attempted to strike out, but he did not, which surprised him. He almost wished he had, because it would have been the excuse he needed. He wished Usaden was with them, but believed he could handle these men without him. If it came to that.
Jorge and Gabriel had dismounted and now faced each other. Thomas slid from his own saddle and patted the horse’s rump to send it cantering away. It would return eventually, and if not these men had horses he could take if he needed one.
“What is going on here?” He spoke to Gabriel.
“Not your business. This is between me and my brother.” Gabriel let his distaste show in the way he spat the final word. “He needs teaching a lesson, and I am the man to teach it to him.”
“Is that why you had him arrested? Why you framed him for a murder he didn’t commit?” Thomas glanced to where the other men had dismounted. They formed a loose circle around him and Jorge, all except Yves, who continued to hold back. He looked back at Gabriel. “Is that why you brought these men to Castile? To kill an innocent scribe so your brother would be arrested? Are you afraid he will steal your mother’s love?”
“I know nothing of any killing.” Gabriel smiled, and in it Thomas saw something of Jorge, but it was a distorted reflection, all the amiability of Jorge twisted to hate. “I won’t hurt him too much. I only want to teach him a lesson so he never returns. Mother does not need distractions, not at this time.”
Thomas stepped between Jorge and Gabriel. “Then you will have to fight me first.”
Gabriel allowed his eyes to track Thomas from head to foot. “That will take all of ten heartbeats.”
Thomas smiled.
“It’s all right,” said Jorge. “I will fight him.”
Thomas turned his head to see his expression. Set, determined, and he saw Jorge needed to do this, win or lose. And no doubt it would be lose. He only hoped Gabriel didn’t hurt him too badly.
“You have only just recovered from a blow to the head.” Thomas thought it worth trying wise advice, but expected Jorge to ignore it, as he always did.
“Which only proves how hard my head is.”
Thomas knew he was beaten and stepped aside. “No weapons. Gabriel, remove your sword and any other blades you have. Jorge, do you have anything?”
Jorge held his hands out to show they were empty. The sword he had brought remained tied to his saddle.
Thomas glanced at the other men. They were starting to lay odds on how long Jorge would last. None of them bet on him winning the fight.
“Nobody interferes, regardless of the result,” Thomas said.
Two of the men nodded, those of Roma, which surprised him. He wondered who the others were. They were less well-dressed and he suspected estate workers. Gabriel must be confident to have brought only the two trained men with him. Thomas didn’t want the fight to take place, but knew Jorge was determined. He had something to prove, though exactly what Thomas wasn’t sure. Maybe it was nothing more than anger at the way Gabriel had treated him, dislike for his half-brother, or simply a chance to vent his anger at events he had little control over. Whatever it was, the scuffle would soon be over, just as Gabriel claimed, just as the men were betting on.
Thomas studied them with care without making it obvious. He wanted to know if Gabriel’s defeat of Jorge would make them want more. He wasn’t concerned, but he didn’t want to harm anyone. It was too fine a day for death or injury. A year ago, still weak from his self-inflicted exile in the Sholayr mountains, he would have been less sure of his own ability. Now, after months training with Usaden, Thomas had no doubt at all.
As if the thought of Usaden had transmitted itself through the air—something Thomas would have dismissed at one time, but now was not so certain—the man himself appeared on the ridge of a low hill to the south. Nobody else noticed his presence, each engrossed in Gabriel and Jorge circling each other. Only as Usaden came close did one of them see him and pass the word. Jorge and Gabriel had still not thrown a punch, and Gabriel stepped back as he saw the Gomeres mercenary slide from the saddle and come to stand beside Thomas.
“Am I too late?”
“It hasn’t started yet.”
“Good, I am curious as to how Jorge will fare.”
“I am sure you know the result already.”
“Perhaps I do.”
“Were you hiding your man away on purpose?” asked Gabriel. “Waiting for him to join you so you could attack us?”
Thomas made a show of looking around. “Three of us and six of you? What are you worried about?”
Gabriel shook his head with all the bluster of a bully, and Thomas saw he was sure of the men he employed. No doubt they too were skilled, but nobody was skilled in the same way as Usaden.
“Are they going to fight or not?” asked Usaden to Thomas, ignoring Gabriel.
“Doesn’t look like it. We should return to the city and find out what this man is hiding.”
“We are going to fight!” Gabriel appeared on the edge of losing his temper. It was clear events were not working out the way he had expected.
“Then do it,” said Thomas. “We are late already. At this rate it will be tomorrow before we get back. Hit him and get it over with.”
It was the taunt Gabriel needed. He turned fast toward Jorge and swung a wild blow at his head. Had it connected, Jorge would have been instantly felled, but it didn’t connect. Instead Jorge ducked, just enough for the blow to sail harmlessly over his head. He snapped out a punch of his own, which thudded into Gabriel’s chest and sent him staggering back a pace. Anger flared bright and he came at Jorge again, using both fists, but once more Jorge avoided each strike, each time landing his own in retaliation. Not enough to cause damage, barely enough to hurt, but enough to stoke Gabriel’s anger, enough to demonstrate Jorge’s skill.
Thomas watched the soldiers start to argue between themselves as two tried to take back the bets they had made. Usaden watched the fight with narrowed eyes, his shoulders swaying with tiny movements each time Jorge struck.
For a time nothing changed, except both men started to sweat in the late afternoon heat. Beyond them the river ran, wide and slow. Olive trees studded the land as far as the eye could see, and smoke hung in the air where pruned wood was being burned. Then Jorge grew tired of the pretence. The next time he struck, his blow thumped hard against Gabriel’s ear, and he went to his knees.
