The Queen's Vow: A Novel of Isabella of Castile Read Online Free PDF Page A

constable’s ghost.
    “Mama, I’m here. Come out. Tell me what has frightened you so.”
    She warily moved forth. Her disheveled hair framed her pallid face, her long white hands kneading her gown. “
Hija mía
, he is here. He’s come again to torment me.”
    “No, Mama. It’s only the wind.” I moved to the sideboard; as I struck flint to the candle there, she cried, “No, no light! He’ll see me! He’ll—”
    Her cry was cut short when I turned with the lit candle cupped between my hands. The wavering circle of light threw the shadows higher upon the walls. “See, Mama? There’s no one here but you and me.”
    Her greenish-blue eyes distended, searching the chamber as if she expected to find her tormentor lurking in the corners. I was about to take a wary step back when all of a sudden she went limp. Letting outa sigh of relief under my breath, I set the candle in a sconce and went to guide her to a chair. I pulled a stool beside her, took her icy hands in mine.
    “I know you don’t believe me,” she said, her voice still holding a frantic echo of fear. “But he was here. I saw him by the window, staring at me, just as he used to do when he was alive and wanted to prove how much power he had over your father.”
    “Mama, Constable Luna is dead. No one is here to harm you, I promise.”
    She pulled her hand from me. “How can you promise such a thing? You do not know; you don’t understand. No one can. But
he
does. He knows a debt of blood must be paid.”
    My skin crawled. “Mama, what are you talking about? What debt?”
    She didn’t seem to hear me. “I had no choice,” she said. “He took your father from me. He was an abomination, a demon: He seduced my own husband away from me. Yet they blamed me for it. The grandees, the people, your own father—they said it was my fault. Juan told me he wished he too had died that day, so he could be with his beloved friend. And so it happened: he died. He did not even try to live, not for me, not for his own children. He preferred that … that unnatural man.”
    I did not want to hear this. It was not meant for my ears; I was not her confessor. But there was no one else; and I had to soothe her enough so that she’d at least let herself be attended. And there was the letter, the reason she’d fallen into this state in the first place. I had to find out what it said.
    “Papa died of an illness,” I said haltingly. “It was not on purpose. He was sick. He had a fever and—”
    “No!” She rose to her feet. “He wanted to die! He chose death so he could escape me. Sweet Virgin, this is why I cannot rest, why I live day after day in endless torment. Had I not done it, Juan might have lived. I’d still be queen. We’d still be in our rightful estate!”
    As if they were in the room, I heard the women’s words, whispered so long ago:
That she-wolf did it…. She killed Luna
.
    My mother had destroyed my father’s friend. This was why she believedhis ghost haunted her; why she kept falling prey to these terrible spells. She believed in this debt of blood she had brought upon herself.
    I forced myself to stand. “It’s cold in here. Let me light the brazier.”
    “Yes! Why not? Light the fire. Or better yet, bring in torches and set the castle ablaze. It will be a taste of what awaits me in Hell.” She took to pacing the chamber again. “God in Heaven, what can I do? How can I protect you?” She whirled about. I froze, bracing myself. She did not scream, though; she did not rant or claw at herself as she had in the past. Instead she reached into the pocket of her gown and flung a crumpled parchment at me. Picking it up from the floor, I turned toward the candle. I found I was holding my breath. Silence fell as I read, broken only by the keening of the wind outside. The letter was from King Enrique. His wife, Queen Juana, had given birth to a daughter. They had christened the child Joanna, after her mother.
    My mother spoke: “Enrique has