Captain from Castile (68 page)

Noticing the black daredeviltry in the other's eyes, Charles could understand how de Silvia gained credit among soldiers. The Emperor, who was a soldier himself, observ'ed also with approval the beautifully proportioned body which suggested effortless strength.

"I see," he nodded. "And I take it, Seiior de Silva, that you corroborate the statements of the Reverend Bishop of Burgos."

"Entirely, Your Majesty, with this general exception. As a Christian, he has kept too far witliin the truth. He has hesitated to offend the nobleness of your imperial mind with details too foul for utterance. What if he had said that this same Cortes encourages his Indian allies to devour human flesh? What if he had described the piteous massacre

of hundreds of Aztec princes committed by his favorites, Pedro de Ah'-arado and Pedro de Vargas? A massacre incited merely by the base desire for gold, which was plucked from the Indians' quivering bodies. What if he had told of the torture inflicted on the great king, Montezuma? Or detailed the sufferings of prisoners of war, men, women, and children, branded with hot irons, parceled out among his licentious officers, enslaved contrary' to Your Majesty's edicts? Sire, I am haunted by the things I have seen."

He paused to stare pensively at the floor and to let his mouth express horror and disgust.

The Emperor made a slight grimace of repulsion, but Chancellor Gattinara put in: "And yet, sir, Cortes's envoys, Puertocarrero and Mantejo, who are now in Valladolid, are men of birth and repute. They give no inkling of such enormities."

De Silva nodded. "They would not. In the first place, they left New Spain before most of these things occurred. In the second place, it is the gift of Hernan Cortes to disguise his barbarities under the cloak of expediency. He is clever as Satan, my lord Chancellor—Satan whom in all ways he resembles. . . . Take, for example, his ill-concealed hostility to the Church. There was in our company a saintly Dominican, an Inquisitor of the Holy Office, Father Ignacio de Lora. First, Cortes attempted his assassination at the hands of a ruffian, one Juan Garcia, who, you will note, remained unpunished, although he well-nigh killed the reverend priest. Then, when that failed, he permitted Father Ignacio to fall into the hands of the Aztecs on the night of the retreat. We learned that he died, a martyr to the Faith, on the stone of sacrifice. And when he heard it, Cortes smiled."

"Faugh!" exclaimed the Emperor. "But wait, it seems to me I recall that name, de Lora. Yes, in truth! Was he not the Inquisitor who condemned the right noble Captain Don Francisco de Vargas in that affair about which His Holiness, the late Pope, took action in person? I recall too that the Duke of Medina Sidonia—Yes, Ignacio de Lora—that's the nam.e. I'm glad that the Suprema saw fit to declare the innocence of Don Francisco and make restitution."

De Silva bit his lip. This was thin ice, and he regretted bringing up the subject. He hoped that the Emperor's memory did not extend to him. But in this, he was disappointed.

"By the mass!" Charles went on. "I wondered where I had seen your namxC before. You were implicated in the same affair. Were you not the one who denounced the right noble Captain?"

Gattinara said gently: "Yes, and I recall now that that was one of

the reasons given for the dissolution of your marriage with the Doiia Luisa de Carvajal. Is it not true?"

"Hm-m," the Emperor added. "You spoke of a Pedro de Vargas as favorite of Cortes. Is he by any chance a relative of Don Francisco's?"

At this critical juncture, Diego de Silva was true to himself. A lesser artist might have been shaken, but not he. The Bishop of Burgos admitted afterwards that he had never seen better management.

"A son. Your Majesty," he returned. And then with a shrug of the shoulders, he continued sadly: "Yes, it is the great misfortune of my life that I denounced Don Francisco to the Holy Office. It is true that I heard him utter the most shocking blasphemies and considered it my duty as one of the Miliz Christi to report the case. But since His late Holiness and the Suprema declared him innocent, I was plainly mistaken. Sire, I am not a grandee like the Marquis de Carvajal. I could not defend myself at Rome against the dissolution of my marriage. As a faithful son of the Church, I can only kiss the rod, as I do the feet of Your Majesty, and crave forgiveness for my sin, which reveals a blunt soldier's lack of discretion, but not—believe me, sire—a lack of religion or of honor."

The time would come when Charles of Austria would not receive such declarations altogether at their face value. But he had still enough youthful generosity to be impressed by the sincere ring of de Silva's voice. While Gattinara took a cynical sniff at his pomander, the Emperor held out his hand.

"I do believe it, sir. Your gallant conduct in the matter of the corsairs would be enough to convince me, apart from your personal bearing. Think no more of it. . . . Are there any other particulars you would like to add to your testimony regarding this man Cortes?"

De Silva hesitated. "I should prefer that the Bishop of Burgos would speak of a matter in which I might be considered prejudiced, since it relates to Pedro de Vargas."

"And that I shall gladly," rumbled Fonseca with a shake of the head. "This young man, whatever his father may be, is a consummate scoundrel, the apt pupil of his master."

"I grieve to hear it," murmured Charles, once more unconsciously put off by the other's truculence. "What has he done?"

"Your Majesty, I cite this as a final example of Cortes's villainy, for the lamentable young man in question acted on the orders of his superior. Moreover, it nearly concerns Your Majesty."

"Well? Get to the point."

But as Fonseca proceeded, the Emperor's impatience changed to grim attention.

"Sire, the so-called colony of Villa Rica dispatched this so-called Captain de Vargas to Spain with another bribe for Your Majesty. I understand it was hundreds of thousands in gold. Besides the crew, he had under his command a group of heathen savages. Having arrived at Santa Maria de la Rabida below Palos, said Pedro de Vargas slipped ashore with the treasure, which he buried not far from the friary to the intent of defrauding not only Your Majesty but the so-called colony which he represented. And this he did plainly in the interests of himself and of Cortes, who was privy to his action. Fortunately, the pilot Alvarez and other members of the crew denounced him to our officers in hope of a reward. Otherwise we should have known nothing."

"Hold." Said the Emperor intently. "Take me with you, Lord Bishop. I do not follow Spanish so easily. You said this gold amounted to---"

"Hunderd of thousands, sire."

"How do you know it did?"

"If Your Majesty will let me explain."

"Well then, slowly." The Emperor added with an unintentional reflection on the preceeding charges against Cortes, "This is imporantant."

Once again Fonesca rehearsed the sailing and arrival of the ship with special reference to the treasure. Now and then he turned to de Silva for confirmation, since it appeared that the latter had but just returned from investigating the affair at Palos.

Charles's brow grew constantly darker.

"Mille tonnerres!" he burst out. "I have heard of brass before butnothing like this. I ask you again how you know what was the amount. This pilot Alvarez, Sneor de Silva, and the ship's company, of whom you say you received testimony, could not know."

"But yes, sire, they knew--that there many hundredweight chests on board and that these chests contained gold. Cortes himself instructing the pilot Alvarez to connive with Vargas in the robbery by helping him land the treasure near La Rabida. Alvarez was then to  anchor at Palos and discharge his cargo with no metion of the gold."

"Still, there may be an explanation," objected the Emperor. "If the gold was intended for us in person, de Vargas may have sent a messenger. He may be coming himself. When did he land?"

"Two weeks since, Your Majesty. Has any messenger arrived? Besides, there is another more serious development which makes his guilt clear beyond further doubt."

"More serious?"

Da Silva cast up his eyes. "Your Majesty will hardly credit it, but not long afterwards, Pedro de Vargas returned openly to La Rabida. He returned with a hundred men-at-arms belonging to the Duke of Medina Sidona, the Guzman standard unfurled, and under the command of fhe Duke's own ensign. The officers of the port and of the Indian Council could do nothing. There, in plain sight of several of them, in the woods near La Ribida, de Vargas dug up ten or more hundred-weight chests, loaded them on mules, and departed. When one of the officers, taking his life in his hands, challenged him, he deigned to answer that these were his personal property, that Your Majesty had no part in them, and so adieu!" 

Charles turned to Gattinara. "Is the Duke a rebel, my lord Chancellor? He stood loyal during the late troubles, and have we not requited him with the castles of Niebla, Huelva, and Sanlucar?"

Gattinara shook his head noncommittally. 

"Where is this pirate, de Vargas, meanwhile?" Charles fumed. "Has no one laid hands on him?"

De Silva shook his head. "It is hard to arrest a man protected by His Grace Don Juan Alonso. Who will serve the warrant? Who has the authority? No sire he swaggers openly. It is said that he travels to Jaen, whee his father is Alcalde. He rides, like a conqueror, with twenty-five men-at-arms and his Indians in their war plumes, while the villages stare."

"He has the gold with him?"

"Probably sire."

It was seldom that Charles of Austria lost his temper, but at this point he sprang up. "You ask me who has the authority to lay hands on him? Monseigneur de Gattinara, you will make out an imperial warrant for this man's arrest on the charge of high treason. You will send Captain Calros de Paz, with sufficient force to Jaen. And let the duke or alcade or pirate resist that warrant at their peril! Let him be brought here straight, for I shall examine him myself. I'm eager to meet the ruffian. Will you wager that we do not win back what he has stolen before he loses his head?" 

Blinded by his rage, the Emperor did not observe the expression on de Silva's face, but Gattinara noticed it.

The Bishop of Burgos put in, "Sire, I ask again in behalf of Diego de Valesquez--"

"No need to ask. Is he not already adelantado? Are you not in charge of Indian affairs. By all means let Velasquez have New Spain, whichh no doubt he richly deserves as compared with the bandit, Cortes. Give immediate order." ,

"Your Majesty will sign the rescript."

"When you will."

"Why?" retorted Charles.

"A precaution. Your Majesty."

"Well—" The Emperor hesitated. "Well then, as you please. There can be no doubt of the result." 

"None."

Faced by the glowering Bishop, Gattinara, fingering his pomander, sniffed thoughtfully and shook his head.

LXXIV

THE CARVAJAL PALACE on that August evening blazed with more candles and flambeaux than had shone through its massive, grated windows for a long time. Old Julio Brica, the major domo, with a new white wand of office and clad in a new stiff suit of black velvet, marshalled an increased force of lackeys arrayed in spick-and-span liveries. He figured that the expense in wax and cloth would hardly come to less than five hundred pesos. But what were five hundred pesos now.

Stationing a flunkey at the grilled Judas or sliding panel in the main door, he instructed him to keep a sharp lookout. "When you first see the torches of our noble guests, you will give the word. Then, Nicolas and Juan, you will take stout hold on the door rings. The rest of you," Brica continued, "will line the steps up to the main corridor, ten to a side in the order I have shown you. Is that understood? Bien! We must have no mistakes, mark that well, no scrambling or scuffing. All must be grace. Meanwhile, you at the Judas will watch. As soon as his excellency, the Alacade, Dona Maria, and the Captain de Vargas dismount and are on the point of approaching the door, you will step back. At the same moment, you, Nicolas and Juan, will open. But slowly! I say, without jerkiness. It must be is if our very doors paid reverrence to Their Excellencies, so that, when they reach the threshold, they will find no barrier. Then, by God, bow!" Brica flashed a minatory eye at his pupils. "Tuck in your bellies. Remember the honor of our master. Let each back form a right angle to the legs. Keep that position while Their Excellencies mount the steps to be greeted by His Magnificience. We have time to practice this once more. Let us have perfection."

Whie Bricas' last anxious rehearsal went forward, the Marquis de Carvajal loitered in his downstairs cabinet, awaiting the coming of his guests with pleasant expectancy. Like the rest of his household, he was dressed for the occasion, but in a superior splendor matching his rank. The huge satin sleeves of his short mantle crackled with stiffness. They were slashed over gold, and the mantle itself had edges of costly fur. He wore a heavy onyx ring on his thumb and the Cross of Santiago dangling from a massive chain on his breast. The excessively wide-toed velvet shoes, equally slashed upon gold, showed a powdering of diamonds. His beard, once depressed by the misfortunes of three years ago, though grayer now, had more than regained its starch and set a final patrician stamp on his appearance.

Viewing himself in a long Venetian mirror, he nodded approval. He felt that he lived up to his title. Then, having given his wide-brimmed, plume-circled hat a more arrogant tilt, he sauntered about the room fingering various small ohjets d'art but actually lost in happy meditation.

Several thoughts, all golden, drifted through his mind. Luisa to be betrothed this evening to Pedro de Vargas, who was now one of the richest men in Spain. Pedro's fortune. Three hundred thousand pesos, Don Francisco had said, and the Alcalde's word could be relied on. Three hundred thousand pesos in gold. Cdspita! What grandee could raise a quarter of that much cash? And then the wedding when Pedro returned triumphant and honored from court. The Marquis himself to the right of the altar, the Bishop officiating, the nobility of the province filling the nave. His imagination wandered on.