The Debt of Tamar Read Online Free PDF Page B

the salty sprays brought aboard by easterly gusts. Reyna closed her eyes and let the hard winds assault her cheeks and ravage her hair. Eavesdropping upon the conversations of first class lodgers, they discovered that the family scandal served the gossip needs of nearly all the bored aristocrats and wealthy merchants on deck. The men smoked rolled bundles of dried tobacco, a trendy new pastime amongst Europe’s upper class that had been brought back from the New World by Portuguese sailors and explorers of the day.
    “If it’s good enough for our dear lady Catherine de Medici, it’s good enough for me!” explained a portly young merchant as a cloud of smoke escaped his lips.
    “Mind if I have a try?” José asked the big man with the cigars.
    “Not at all!” He flashed a toothy grin then stretched out a wooden box full of cigars for José to choose one.
    José brought a cigar to his lips and kissed it with gusto. “Bless you, Captain Chris.”
    “Chris?” The man took José’s cigar and lit it from his own, transferring a soft orange glow to the tip of José’s cigar.
    “Surely you’ve heard of the fellow?” José took a drag and enjoyed it from the very first puff. “An Italian sailor by the name of Columbus.”
    “Name doesn’t ring a bell. Should it?”
    José shrugged. “I suppose we can’t all make it into the history books.”
    They leaned over the edge of the deck flicking ash into the sea below. “That your wife there?” The man gestured towards Reyna as he sucked in smoke to his cheeks.
    José nodded. Then, he turned to Reyna and in the most honest moment of their three-week pretense as husband and wife, enveloped her in a kiss so passionate, violent and stubborn, she tore herself away and stumbled as she did.
    “Newlyweds!” The man laughed wholeheartedly. “Good luck to you both!” He tossed his cigar overboard leaving Reyna and José alone on the south side of the deck.
    That night, their minds raced with thoughts they’d never dared to entertain before. They lay in the barrack beside one another, bodies crushed by a gaping space between them. At some point during those long sleepless hours, she reached out and pulled his arm over her body so that they lay like spoons.

4
     
    At the dock, a handsome old man with a trim grey beard approached José and Reyna. He smiled, exposing a row of perfectly aligned teeth as bright and spotless as the long white tunic and turban he wore. “You must be the Mendez children?” he asked in near perfect Spanish.
    Having taken such pains to hide his identity for the past few weeks, José stood speechless.
    “It’s all right, you are on Ottoman territory now,” the man said. “No one will harm you here.”
    “We can’t thank you enough, Señor?”
    “Hamon,” the man said. “Doctor Moses Hamon, personal physician to the Sultan. I am also Jewish.” The man explained. “Here you are free to follow whatever faith you choose. You’re a citizen of the Ottoman empire now.” He looked over Reyna.
    Despite her matted hair and the drab frock she wore to conceal her identity, her brown eyes glistened against her flushed complexion.
    “You are more beautiful than your mother promised.”
    José and Reyna exchanged a bewildered glance.
    “I am also from Iberia,” he continued as he led them towards the carriage. “Granada to be exact. My family fled the year of the edict. We came to Istanbul. I’ve been working for the Sultan for many decades now.”
    “I’m sorry, Doctor, but how did you manage to find us?” Reyna said.
    “I’ve been exchanging letters with your mother for many years now. She’d been planning an escape for quite some time. Over the years, she’s funneled her assets here little by little. She’d always planned to come to Istanbul.”
    “Doctor Hamon,” José cut in. “Have you had any word of our aunt? Of her condition?”
    “I have good news,” the doctor said. “The Sultan is insisting she be released. Preparations