The Last Jew (27 page)

At a rude drinking place -- three boards set upon casks -- Yonah sat and sipped sour wine, watching the house of the Dominican order, across the way. Eventually a friar left the house and, after a long time, a pair of fiercely arguing priests.

When Fray Lorenzo de Bonestruca appeared, he was approaching the house instead of leaving it. Yonah saw the tall figure coming from far down the street yet knew him at once.

He entered the order house and remained long enough so Yonah had to ask the proprietor to add wine to his cup, which he left gladly after the friar emerged from the house and walked down the street. Yonah followed slowly on the horse, keeping Bonestruca in view but staying well behind.

Bonestruca finally turned into the doorway of a small taberna, a workingman's place. By the time Yonah tethered the mare and entered the dark little cellar, the friar had seated himself in the rear and already was in the midst of an argument with the proprietor.

'Perhaps you may pay a small amount toward the debt?'

'How dare you? You miserable little bastard!'

The proprietor was more than cowed, Yonah saw. He was in terror, unable to look at the inquisitor.

'I beg you, Friar, take no offense,' the man said desperately, 'your wine will be served, of course. I meant no impertinence.'

'You are a dung worm.'

Bonestruca had put on flesh, yet his features were as beautiful as Yonah remembered: an aristocratic brow, high cheekbones, a long, thin nose, a wide, full-lipped mouth over a firm and chiseled jaw. The face was betrayed by the eyes, large and gray, full of chilly dislike for the world.

The proprietor had scurried away, returning with a cup he set down in front of Bonestruca before turning to Yonah.

'A cup of wine for myself. And another cup for the good friar.'

'Yes, señor.'

Bonestruca's stony eyes made Yonah their object. 'Jesus bless you,' he muttered, paying for the drink with the benison.

'Thank you. May I have your permission to join you?' he asked, and Bonestruca nodded indifferently. Yonah went and sat at the table of the man who had caused the deaths of his father and his brother and Bernardo Espina, and doubtless many more.

'I am Ramón Callicó.'

The friar obviously had a thirst. He emptied his cup of wine quickly, and the one Yonah had bought, and nodded when Yonah ordered two more. 'Bowls, this time, señor!

'I have had the pleasure of praying in the cathedral, of which Toledo must be very proud,' Yonah ventured, and Bonestruca nodded with the reluctance of one who resents it when uninvited words interrupt his privacy.

The bowls were served.

'What is the nature of the work being done on the cathedral structure?'

Bonestruca shrugged wearily. 'I know something is being done to the doors.'

'Do you do the Lord's work on the cathedral staff, good Friar?'

'No. I do the Lord's work elsewhere,' the friar said, and drank so deeply that Yonah was forced to wonder whether the coins in his purse would be equal to this man's thirst. Yet it was money well spent, for even as he watched, the friar became more voluble, his eyes took on new life, and his body relaxed like a flower unfolding after a rain.

'And have you served God long, señor?'

'Since I was a boy.'

His tongue warmed and loosened, the friar began to talk about hereditary grace. He told Yonah matter-of-factly that he was the second son of an aristocratic family in Madrid. 'Bonestruca is a Catalan name. Many generations ago, my family came to Madrid from Barcelona. My heritage is very old, no pig's blood in us, understand, limpieza de sangre, purest of bloodlines.' He had been sent to the Dominicans when he was twelve. 'Fortunate for me I was not sent to the Franciscans, whom I now cannot abide. My sainted mother had a brother who was with the Franciscans in Barcelona, but my father had Dominican friars among his kin.' The penetrating gray eyes Yonah remembered were locked onto his face. Now it was Yonah who felt terror, certain that Bonestruca could see his secrets and transgressions.

'And what of you? From where do you come?'

'I come from the South. I am apprenticed to Manuel Fierro, the armorer of Gibraltar.'

'Gibraltar! By the passion, you come a distance, armor maker.' He leaned forward. 'Have you then carried here the armor so eagerly awaited these four years by a fine nobleman hereabouts? And shall I guess his name?'

Yonah didn't confirm that the friar had guessed correctly, but sent his message by not denying it, choosing to sip his wine and smile. 'I am here with a party of men,' he said politely.

Bonestruca shrugged and brought a long finger to touch his nose mockingly, amused by Yonah's reticence.

It was time, Yonah told himself, to shoot an arrow into the air and see where it would fall. 'I am seeking to find a churchly man willing to give me counsel.'

The friar appeared bored. He remained stolidly silent, evidently mistaking the overture as a prelude to another of the everyday confessions of conscience that some clerics pounce on while other clerics come to view as a plague.

'If a person were to discover ... that is, something of great sacred worth ... Well, where should he bring such a thing? In order to ... to see that it will receive its proper importance and place in the world?'

The gray eyes were wide awake and looking straight at him. 'A relic?'

'Well. Yes. A relic,' Yonah said cautiously.

'I suppose it is not a portion of the true Cross?' the friar said, mocking him.

'No.'

'Well, then, why should it interest anyone?' Bonestruca said -- a little joke -- and for the first time gave a small, chill smile.

Yonah smiled back and glanced away. 'Señor,' he called, and ordered two more bowls of wine.

'Let me suppose it is the bone of someone you believe was holy,' the friar said. 'So let me tell you that if it is the bone of a hand, almost certainly it is the hand bone of some poor murdered whoreson, a sinner who was perhaps a coachman or a pig farmer. And if it is the bone of a foot, likely it is the foot bone of some departed blackguard, a whoremaster who was in no way a Christian martyr.'

'That is possible, good Friar,' Yonah said humbly.

Bonestruca snorted. 'More than possible. Likely.'

The new bowls came and Bonestruca continued to drink. He was the sort of drinker that remained sober and dangerous, showing little effect from the wine. Yet it must dull his reactions, Yonah thought; it would be easier to kill him now, this murdering friar. But Yonah was thinking clearly, and he knew that Bonestruca must live if he himself were to return to Gibraltar without meeting his death there.

He told the proprietor to give him an accounting. After they settled the debt, the man served a gift dish of bread and olives in oil, and Yonah remarked on the kindness to the friar.

Bonestruca still smoldered at the host. 'He is a backsliding Christian who shall taste justice,' he muttered. 'He is a swine of a monstrous Jew.'

Yonah carried the terrible weight of those words as he walked the mare through the sleeping streets.

26

Bombardes

Count Vasca kept the men from Gibraltar waiting four more days.

Yonah used the time searching for the widow of Bernardo Espina, hoping to find a way to deliver Espina's breviary to his son, as he had promised the physician before the auto de fé that had taken his life.

But the search ended in frustration.

'Estrella de Aranda did come back here with her children,' one of the women in the neighborhood of Espina's former home told Yonah when he inquired. 'After her husband was burned for heresy none of her kinsmen would keep her. We gave them shelter for a little time. Then she went to the Convento de la Santa Cruz to be a nun, and we heard she died there soon after. Mother Church swallowed her children, Marta and Domitila to become nuns also, and Francisco to become a monk. I don't know where they have gone,' she said.

Yonah worried that Bonestruca had had too much wine to recall what he had told the friar about his knowledge of a valuable relic. He was certain Bonestruca was part of a network that bought and stole sacred objects for lucrative sale abroad. The friar knew that Yonah was waiting to deliver armor to the count of Tembleque, and if he had taken the lure, someone should be approaching Yonah about the details.

Yet several days passed without event.

When finally the count returned from hunting he proved to be a man large enough to fill the huge suit of armor. His beard, mustache and hair were the color of ginger and there was a large bald spot in the middle of his scalp. He had the coldly imperious eyes of one born and raised to the knowledge that all the men in his world were inferior beings created to serve him.

The Gibraltar men helped dress him in the armor and then watched as he shambled about the courtyard holding the sword. When he was freed from the steel suit he was plainly delighted with the things they had brought, but he complained of a lack of room in the right shoulder. A forge was set up at once in the courtyard, and Luis and Paco went to work with a will and two hammers.

Soon after the adjustment had been made in the shoulder piece, Count Fernán Vasca sent his steward to summon Ramón Callicó to his presence.

'Has he made his mark on the receipt?' Yonah asked.

'It awaits you,' the steward said, and Yonah followed him back to the count's chambers, passing through a number of rooms. As they walked Yonah found himself trying to glimpse some of the silver objects his father had made for the count, but he saw none. The castle of Tembleque was large.

He wondered why he was summoned. He didn't need to collect money; payment for the sword and the armor would be made through Valencia merchants who traded in Gibraltar. Yonah hoped Fierro would be more successful collecting payment from the count than his own father had been.

The steward stopped by an oaken door and knocked.

'Excellency. The man Callicó is here.'

'Send him in.'

It was a long and gloomy room. Although the day wasn't cold there was a small fire in the hearth, and three hounds lay stretched on the rush-strewn floor. Two of the animals regarded the newcomer with cold eyes and the third sprang to his feet and came at Yonah with a low growl, slinking away at the very last moment when called off by his owner.

'My lord,' Yonah said.

Vasco nodded, and passed the marked receipt to him. 'I am greatly taken with the armor. You may so inform your maestro Fierro.'

'My master will be happy to hear of your pleasure, lord.'

'No doubt. It is good to receive pleasant tidings. For example, I am told you have made the discovery of a holy relic.'

Ah. So this is where the arrow I shot at Fray Bonestruca has landed, Yonah thought with a chill.

'It is true,' he said cautiously.

'What is the nature of the relic?'

Yonah looked at the count.

'Come, come,' Vasca said with harsh impatience. 'Is it a bone?'

'It is many bones. It is a skeleton.'

'Whose?'

'A saint's. Not a saint well known. A local saint of the Gibraltar region.'

'You believe it is the skeleton of Santo Peregrino el Compasivo?'

Yonah looked at the count with new respect. 'Yes. You know the legend?'

'I know all the legends about relics,' Vasca said. 'Why do you think it is the Pilgrim Saint?'

So Yonah told him about Vicente, and how Vicente had brought him to the cave in the low rocks. He described everything he had seen in the cave, and the count listened to him carefully.

'Why did you approach Fray Bonestruca?'

'I thought he might know someone who ... would be interested.'

'Why should you think that?'

'We were drinking together. I thought it more sensible to ask a friar who is a drinker than to approach some disapproving priest.'

'The truth is, then, that you were looking for a dealer in relics and the like, and not simply a churchman.'

'Yes.'

'Because you have a fat price for your information?'

'I have a price. It is a high price to me, but perhaps not to others.'

Count Vasca leaned forward. 'But why have you come all this way from Gibraltar to seek a dealer? Is there no dealer in relics in southern Spain?'

'There is Anselmo Lavera.' As you well know, Yonah thought.

He told the count of Vicente's murder, and of his own visit from Lavera. 'I know if I don't bring Lavera and his men to the cave, I shall be killed. Yet, if I do bring them, I shall be killed. My instinct is to run, yet I greatly desire to return to Gibraltar and work for Maestro Fierro.'

'So, what price do you ask for your information?'

'My life.'

Vasca nodded. If he was amused it was not evident. 'That is an acceptable price,' he said.

He gave Yonah a quill and ink and paper. 'Draw a map showing how to find the saint's cave.'

Yonah composed the map as carefully and truly as he was able, placing in it whatever landmarks he could remember. 'The cave is in a barren of sand and stone, completely invisible from the trail. There is nothing there but low rocks, with a few stunted bushes and dwarfed trees.'

Vasca nodded. 'Make a copy of this map and take it back to Gibraltar with you. When Anselmo Lavera comes to you again, tell him you are unable to bring him to the cave, but give him the map. I repeat. Do not go to the cave with him. Do you understand?'

'Yes. I understand,' Yonah said.

He didn't see the nobleman again. The sour steward dispensed gifts of ten maravedíes to each of the armorers in the name of Count Vasca.

According to Fierro's instructions, Angel Costa sold the burros in Toledo, and the four men rode back to the coast unencumbered by pack animals.

In Valencia, while waiting to board a boat, the men used part of their gift money on strong drink. Yonah felt an urge to join them, but he was still taut with the menace of the past, and he entered their roistering but drank carefully and watchfully.

They had just arrived in a tavern when Luis jostled a fat man who was leaving, and then chose to become insulted. 'You clumsy cow!' Luis said. The man looked at him in astonishment. 'What is the problem, señor?' he said. He spoke with the accent of a Frank. The amusement in his eyes turned to wariness when Angel moved up, his hand on his sword.

The Frank was unarmed. 'I am sorry for my clumsiness,' he said coldly, and left the tavern.

Yonah could scarcely bear the pride in Luis's face and the satisfaction in Angel's.

'And if he returns armed, and with friends?'

'Then we will fight. Are you afraid to fight, Callicó?' Angel said.

'I will never injure or kill only because you and Luis seek a bit of amusement.'

'I think you are afraid. I think that you can stomach a game but not a man's real fight.'

But Paco came and stood between them. We have managed to do the maestro's work without trouble, he said. 'I do not intend to try to explain injury or death to Fierro.' He signaled the proprietor for drink to be served.

They drank late into the night and in the morning boarded a packet that sailed with the early tide. During the voyage the four men met morning and evening in prayer meetings on which Angel insisted. At other times Luis and Angel kept to themselves and when Yonah wanted conversation he sought out Paco. Most of the time he kept to himself. He was moody and sad. He felt he had made a pact with the Devil, conspiring with the men who almost certainly had brought terrible deaths to his father and his brother. Yet he was strangely happy to disembark at Gibraltar. It was good to return to a place where his arrival was expected.

There was not a long rest period after the travelers reached Gibraltar. While they had been gone, several orders for both armor and swords had come in from members of the royal court. Yonah was assigned to work in Paco's shed, helping to rough out a breastplate destined for the duke of Carmona. All over the armory there was a clamor, the beat of hammers on heated steel.

Despite the new orders Fierro himself continued to work on the medical instruments he was making for his brother, Nuño Fierro, physician of Saragossa. They were sleekly beautiful, each polished like a jewel and sharpened like a sword.

When work was done at the end of the day Yonah used the glowing fire and the waning light to work on a project of his own. He had taken the steel blade of his first weapon, the broken hoe, and heated it and shaped it. Without a plan or real intent -- almost without his volition -- his pounding hammer had fashioned a small chalice.

He worked with steel instead of silver and gold, and the small cup wasn't finely fashioned, yet it was a replica of the reliquary his father had made for the Priory of the Annunciation. When Yonah was finished he had a strange little cup, etched crudely with only the principal figures that adorned the reliquary. But it would serve to keep him remembering, and serve also as a kiddush cup to help him celebrate the Sabbath by thanking the Creator for the fruits of the vine. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that if his belongings were searched, the cross on the cup might bolster the breviary of Bernardo Espina as evidence of his own Christianity.