The message of blood, p.24
The Message of Blood, page 24
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I told Sama we were coming to Córdoba to see Jorge,” said Beatriz, “but that is only a small part of the truth, as I am sure you know.”
Thomas had brought Beatriz across the river to his rooms in the palace, wanting to avoid the distractions of Daniel’s house until later. At first, as they entered into the gilded interior, she had been quiet, clearly unsure of herself despite her position in Cadiz. Thomas’s rooms were less ornate, and she began to relax as they sat facing each other with morning light streaming through the window.
“Have you come to tell me the missing piece of the puzzle?” Thomas asked.
“I don’t even know what puzzle you speak of, or if what I know or don’t know will help, but I admit I have held secrets too long. If their revealing can help Jorge then I will tell you everything.”
“You know who Jorge’s father is, don’t you?”
Beatriz nodded, but her gaze darted away as something beyond the window attracted her attention. Her eyes widened at the sight of Isabel and Fernando. They faced each other, and appeared to be arguing.
“You move in exalted circles, Thomas Berrington. Is that who I think it is?”
“If you think it is the Queen and her husband, then yes.”
“Why not call him King?”
“Because it is Isabel who rules here. Isabel who will rule once Spain is reunited.”
“You know them both well enough to call them by name?”
“Everyone knows their names.”
“But not everyone uses them. Do you call her by name when you speak with her? Do you call her Isabel?”
“Sometimes. When we are alone.”
Beatriz shook her head at the wonder of it before turning back to Thomas. She firmed her shoulders, as if needing to gather her courage.
“I saw who brought Jorge to our family, and I have met his father, but that was only recently.”
“Inigo Florentino?”
“That is the name he gave me, though it took some time before I discovered who he really was. He came to me in Cadiz. At first I thought him no more than a trader, even if he was the most handsome trader I have ever met. And with such a sweet tongue on him. Had I not looked as I do and been ten years younger, I might have asked him to dine with me.”
“You are a handsome woman,” Thomas said.
Beatriz laughed. “I know what I am. I look like Daniel, not Jorge. But this man … ah, he looked like Jorge. I might have guessed if it had not been so long since I saw him last. He had barely thirteen years when I believed him dead.” Beatriz stared into space for a time. Outside a voice was raised in anger, but Thomas didn’t take his eyes off her.
“When did you discover he was not?”
Beatriz shook herself as if coming back from some distant place. “When this Inigo came to see me. He stayed several days, but it took two before he told me his true reason for being there. I should have been disappointed he did not want to trade with me, but the news he brought was so thrilling I did not mind. He told me Jorge still lived.”
“When did he tell you he was his father?”
“Another day later. The man holds secrets to himself like others hoard gold. Even then he did not reveal everything, but I could work out what he did not.” Beatriz let her breath loose in a long sigh. “Is Jorge handsome?”
“The most handsome man alive,” Thomas said.
Beatriz smiled. “Is he married? Does he have children? I know nothing of him and would know everything. He was such a sweet child, but wicked too.”
“He is still both of those things. He’s not married, but as good as. He lives with a beautiful woman by the name of Belia. They have no children. Jorge will never father children.”
“Why not? Even before he was taken by the river Jorge was no stranger to the ways of love. Girls his own age, women far older, everyone loved Jorge and he loved them back. I am only surprised he did not plant a child in anyone—is that why, he cannot?”
“He cannot now because he is a eunuch.”
Beatriz stared at Thomas. “A eunuch? I do not understand. How can Jorge be a eunuch?”
“It’s a long story and one he should tell you himself. Can you wait until you see him?”
“If I must.” Beatriz shook her head. “No, I must, I know I must. How long will Jorge be on this errand you sent him on?”
“I don’t know. Tell me what you know of Inigo Florentino, and then we will return to Daniel’s house. No doubt Jorge will have returned by then. He wants to see you too, I know. He has fond memories of your care.” A thought occurred to Thomas. “I am remiss, are you hungry? Shall I send for some food and wine?”
“Nothing. I am sure Daniel and his wife will feed me when we go there.” Beatriz took a breath and told Thomas about Inigo Florentino. “As I said, it was two days before his real purpose was revealed. I think if I was a different kind of woman he would have come into my bed if I had asked, because he wanted information from me. He asked about a boy. A boy by the name of Jorge.”
“How did he find you?”
Beatriz waved a hand. “Stop asking me questions and I will tell you everything I know, but I need to start from the beginning. Which is with a woman by the name of Castellana Baltieri—”
“Who is now Castellana Lonzal.”
“Let me tell you in my own way, Thomas. Keep your questions for after, or I will get distracted and forget something. It began with a woman by the name of Castellana Baltieri and a man by the name of Rodrigo Lonzal, as well as this Inigo—so yes, you are right, and I will get to that. Inigo told me they were the best of friends until Castellana set her sights on him. He was from a less well-off family, he told me. Not poor, but not wealthy like Lonzal. Except Inigo was—still is—the most handsome of men and Castellana, though young, was advanced. Like Jorge, I suppose.” She laughed. “No wonder he is like he is. She wanted Inigo, and he wanted her. I have no need to explain the details, I am sure a man such as you knows how such things happen.
“When Lonzal found out he flew into a rage. Castellana’s family had promised her to him. It was a marriage of equals, a marriage to cement two dynasties together. All of that would be destroyed by another man’s child, so Lonzal took command.
“It started with a beating, and then he hired men to kill Inigo. That is what he claims. Whether it is true or not I cannot tell. What I did see was his hatred of this man. Inigo would see him dead. Has wanted him dead ever since he was expelled from Valencia, for that is where they all lived.” She held a hand up as Thomas opened his mouth to ask a question and he closed it again.
“Why did he leave? Is that what you were about to ask me?”
Thomas nodded. The story Beatriz was relating had a ring of truth to it. The kind of tale told over and over between men and women, between lovers and rivals.
“You need to know how powerful this Lonzal was. How powerful he has become. Inigo told me who he is, who he has become. He is Cardinal Rodrigo de Borja, and rumour is that when the current incumbent dies, he will be the next Pope in Roma. But I am getting ahead of myself.
“Inigo left Valencia and became a mariner. A number of years later he was on a ship caught in a storm and it went down with, so everyone thought, all hands lost. Except Inigo found his way to shore with half a dozen others, but it was the coast of Africa. He told me he stayed there a long time, and then moved to Italia. He ended up in Roma and saw Lonzal there. He recognised the man and remembered his hatred of him. The man who had ruined his life. It was as he told me this I saw the spark of madness in his eyes. Inigo’s hatred has turned a fine mind into one obsessed with revenge. Revenge and redemption.
“Inigo had no idea he had a son. He knew Castellana was with child, but children can be scraped out of a woman when they are not wanted, and I think he believed that is what had happened. Then, he said, something strange occurred. He joined a group of religious men set against de Borja. Not because he carried any great belief, but it suited him because it allowed him to spy on de Borja and plan his revenge. He had discovered that the child Castellana carried had been born, and then given away, here in Córdoba. So Inigo sent messages asking for anyone who might know something of the boy. He even knew his name was Jorge. But, like everyone else, he was told the boy he sought was dead. This news might have been what turned his mind. I am sure he thought of nothing but how to destroy de Borja.”
“Why did he come to you if he thought Jorge dead?” Thomas asked.
“Because the people he originally paid to find him found something else here in the city. They were men, Inigo told me, who dealt in secrets. Men who made their living extracting money from those who did not want their secrets laid out in the open. Men who listened and searched for anything they could use. One of the men had placed Jorge with our family. I saw him brought as a babe of no more than three months. I was handed Jorge by my mother, who kept the money this man gave her, and the rest of us never saw any of it. I raised him myself. I loved him, wickedness and all. And then everyone thought him dead. Until you came here. The story Inigo heard is you pursued an Abbot and brought him to justice. Is that true?”
“Abbot Mandana,” Thomas said. He could tell Beatriz more about the man later, but didn’t want to interrupt her now she was coming to the core of her tale.
“Castellana lived in Córdoba then, together with her second son. She had become a companion of Queen Isabel, who regaled her with the story of this mysterious surgeon who could also fight like a demon and would never give up. A man by the name of Thomas Berrington, Inigo said, and his companion Jorge Olmos.” Beatriz stared hard at Thomas and he watched as tears gathered in her eyes. “When he told me that, I almost fainted. My Jorge lived. And when Inigo heard it, he knew his son lived.”
“How? He would not know Jorge’s name, would he?”
“Because of the men he paid. Castellana paid men to make Jorge disappear. Without knowing it, Inigo paid the same men to find him. They must have been laughing at how easy it was to extract money from them both. Except whatever the cost, Inigo considered it worthwhile. He knew his son lived. Which is what brought him to me. He traced me as the person who’d raised Jorge and he came to find me. He wanted to know all about his son. Wanted to know everything I could tell him. And then…” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Then he said he would kill them all.”
Thomas stared at her. “All? Jorge as well?”
“No, of course not Jorge. But the others. This de Borja, the men who took his money. He told me they had to suffer his judgement. It was then I knew how crazy he was. He hid it well, but it is there, barely beneath the surface.”
“And Castellana?”
“I think he still loves her, not that she will ever want to take him back, not if she values her own life, or that of her second son.”
“When did Inigo come to you?”
“Three months since. He revealed to me that Jorge still lived and I wanted so to see him again. I almost came before when I heard Daniel had done well for himself. Such news spreads, even as far as Cadiz. I should have come sooner. If I had, two men might still be alive and Jorge would be out of danger.”
“I should not have told you anything about that, but I was desperate.”
“As you should be. As I was when I received your message. I wrote one to send back, but realised I had to tell you what happened face to face.”
Thomas laughed. “Lawrence, the man who sent you the message, told me pigeons were small birds. You would have needed an eagle to carry your news.”
“Does it help Jorge?” asked Beatriz.
“I don’t know, not yet. I need to work through what you have told me. Did Inigo say where he was going after he left you?”
“He said he was coming here. He was coming to Córdoba to take his revenge.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Daniel’s house was in chaos when Thomas and Beatriz arrived. Thomas took Jorge’s arm and attempted to lead him outside, only for Jorge to pull free to embrace the woman he had always believed was his sister. Beatriz held Jorge at arm’s length, her eyes tracking him: his height, his beauty, his strength, clearly unable to believe what she saw … what he had turned into. Then she embraced him again, tears in both their eyes.
To one side, Adana stood next to Beatriz’s companion, Sama. They seemed to have formed a friendship in the short time they had known each other. Thomas saw Zanita’s gaze on them both, her face expressionless. Then Daniel entered the room and gave a great shout as he saw Beatriz, and the embrace between two became an embrace between three. Thomas waited to intervene, knowing making an attempt too soon would result in a rebuff, leaving it too long would waste valuable time. Then he glimpsed Theresa sitting in a chair near the far door and crossed to her.
“Were you there?” he asked. “When Jorge spoke with Miguel’s housekeeper?”
“I was, though she is far more than a housekeeper. Jorge is good with women, but it was fortunate I went with him.”
Thomas looked around. The level of sound in the room had risen even more, as everyone started to talk at once.
“I need you to tell me if she knew anything about what Miguel was doing.” He would have preferred to ask Jorge, but knew he might be another hour at least. He appeared to have forgotten he was free from prison only with Isabel’s permission. Thomas experienced a sense of the world turning around him while he stood at its centre, an onlooker incapable of affecting anything.
“I don’t think she knew everything he was doing, but enough, perhaps.” Theresa gripped Thomas’s shirt and led him across the room. They skirted the group gathered around Beatriz and left through a rear door which led to an area of untended scrub that ran down to the river bank. Thomas followed Theresa to the water, where the air was a little cooler. So much had happened to Thomas since waking, it seemed it should be evening instead of still an hour shy of noon.
When Theresa turned to him, he was uneasy at what he saw in her eyes. There was a hunger, a want he didn’t think he could satisfy, was even capable of satisfying.
“Did Jorge do all the talking?” he asked.
“Of course. He led her gently to what he wanted to know. He got her talking about how she began working for Miguel, and then he worked his magic so she told him everything. He made her laugh, then he made her cry, then he soothed her tears. You know what Jorge is like. Women love him.”
“Yes, I know what he is like. How did he broach the subject of money?”
“With tact, and she was happy to accept. I think she feels it her due.”
“What did she know?”
“She definitely knew he was doing something he shouldn’t. She even said she tried to tease it out of him and warned him to stop. Their life together was good and he threatened to destroy it. He has destroyed it now in any case, hasn’t he?” Theresa gripped Thomas’s wrist, lifted his hand to her shoulder, which rose and fell with each breath.
“The money will help,” Thomas said. “She is pretty enough. Perhaps she will find another master.”
“Yes, she is pretty, but pretty doesn’t heal a broken heart.”
“Tell me what you heard beneath her words.”
Theresa released his hand, but kept her own on his shoulder. “As I said, she knew he was doing something, but not what. He was often out in the small hours. Neglected his work. She was concerned he might lose his post, but when she confronted him, he told her there was nothing to worry about even if he did. If what he was working on came to fruition there would be a promotion.”
“I take it she asked him what it was?”
“She did, but he told her she didn’t need to know, not until everything was settled.”
“It’s not much to go on.”
“She also heard your name and Jorge’s mentioned. She thought it in connection with the work he was doing, but couldn’t be sure.”
“Miguel wanted to prove himself by solving this crime on his own. Had he succeeded he would be lauded. But he didn’t succeed. All he managed to do was get himself killed.”
“He disappointed you, didn’t he?”
“I liked him. Trusted him. So yes, he disappointed me. Did she tell Jorge anything else?”
“She knew about Miguel’s whores, but most women do, don’t they?”
“You’re asking the wrong man.”
Theresa rubbed her thumb across his shoulder. “Oh, I wish you loved me like I love you, Thomas. You are a rare creature indeed. One of a kind.”
“I’m not sure that is a good thing to be. Did she mind about his whores?”
“I don’t think so. Some women are grateful.”
“Did she love him?”
Theresa raised a shoulder. “She may have, but I would say more likely she was used to him. Often that is enough, is it not?”
“Is it?”
“See, there you go again. You cannot be as innocent as you pretend, it is not possible. Are you going to go back to your Eleanor?”
“What else did Miguel’s housekeeper say?”
“Nothing.”
“No names, no faces? Other than mine and Jorge’s, that is?”
“Not that I heard, but you should talk to Jorge because you know what he is like. He can suck the very soul from a woman and leave her grateful.”
Thomas laughed. “Perhaps you should turn your attentions in his direction then.”
“I would be tempted, but he already has a woman, and she scares me. I would never cross Belia.”
Nor me, thought Thomas. What Theresa had told him didn’t feel like enough, but he was probably the wrong man to know whether it was or not. He and Lubna had never had secrets. At least he’d had no secrets from her, and now it was too late to know whether she had withheld any from him. The thought of his dead wife crashed a wave of loss through him that Theresa must have seen, because she pressed against him, her arms circling his waist, her body soft against his, and she held him. Nothing more. No words. No attempt to kiss his mouth or let her hands stray. Thomas stood without moving, waiting for the moment to pass, as he knew it eventually would. The crushing sense of loss came less often than it did, and he had grown used to it. He knew this moment would pass, as had the ones before.
