Chapter Six - On Gatekeepers
Chapter Six
On Gatekeepers
2 November, 1066
The town of Salamanca, León
Inés was prattling on about the latest gossip around town, as usual. Apparently some guardsman had got the captain's daughter with child and was to be whipped for it. Inés was always talking, every single minute of every day she spent in Urraca's chamber was filled with the silly gossip of this forgotten bordertown. Urraca had been considering strangling the woman for quite some time now, but then again, if she did the guards were sure to find someone worse.
Why in God's name does mother put up with this gibbering fool? Urraca sighed where she sat in the high window. She would have welcomed the conversation, truly, if only Inés would talk about something the least bit interesting, but whenever Urraca asked about the war, about Alfonso, about García or Arias or even her mother, the handmaiden simply continued on as if she'd not heard her. The first few days Urraca had tried to order Inés to speak, and when that didn't work she had pleaded, she had wept, screamed and even threatened – all to no avail. In the end Urraca had settled for not speaking at all, hoping for the woman to grow sick of listening to her own voice, though as of yet Inés hadn't relented a single moment.
Urraca's days were spent sitting in the window, or listening at her door whenever she heard the guards speaking whilst Inés was out – that was how she learned of Arias's fate. She had wept then, thinking of his dark curls matted with blood, his sparkling brown eyes dead and dull. Urraca couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd heard of the battle, but it was only yesterday she had managed to leave her bed again. Not that she had been able to sleep much, no, the dreams kept her even from that solace. Last night it had been María. They had been out riding among the hills, like they've done when they were young, pretending that they were on a great adventure and looking for forgotten treasure. At first it had been a pleasant dream, such even that Urraca would have wished to stay there forever. That was before she saw María staring at her from empty eye sockets, cracked and burnt lips moving but no words coming from them. Urraca had woken clutching her covers, soaked with sweat and tears. Other nights it was Arias. Before the battle she dreamt of him climbing the tower to rescue her and sweep her away – those dreams had left her loins aching for his body – but the last few nights she had dreamed only of his severed head spiked upon a ruined wall. Ravens had flocked around his face, screeching and bickering as they tore choice pieces from his cheeks.
No, sleep had lost all sense of comfort and Urraca found little more when she was awake. The view from the window was better than the dreams though and sometimes, brief as those moments were, she could near forget where she was as she looked upon the town spreading out beneath her.
It should be Zamora though. It should be my city, not this little backwater. The thought of her husband prancing about in her halls, imagining himself a true little lord, made her clench her teeth, but the thought of Zamora was still a comfort as it was bittersweet.
No, not Zamora. Burgos... it should be Burgos, with María still alive and happy, prattling on about her wedding... I was happy then. She traced the white scar that stretched across the palm of her right hand.
I will avenge you. I will avenge you all, even if I have to tear that bastard's heart out myself.
“...and think of poor Ermengarda, not even fourteen and to be birthing a bastard. No, the good and proper thing would be to have them wed and be done with it, no matter Muño's low birth. After all, the captain is hardly more than a peasant himself. I told him as much yesterday but...” Urraca sighed and slid down from the window. It was time for her evening meal soon and after that Inés would finally leave her alone for the night. “Where are they? They said he would be here to sup with you.”
Urraca looked up, not a little confused. Who was to sup with her? She hadn't seen another soul than Inés for days, not counting the nameless guards always posted outside her door.
Alfonso? No, the guards had said he was in Zamora.
“Inés...” Urraca hesitated, her voice was hoarse from lack of use and she thought it sounded like the voice of a much elder woman. She cleared her throat. “Who is coming to dine with me?”
The handmaiden gave her a long searching look. “Don't you remember, my lady? I told you earlier this morning... didn't I?” Inés scratched her greying hair. “No matter. It's that priest-fellow of yours, what's his name? Velasco?”
“Velasquez.” The mere thought of the false priest lit the burning embers within Urraca. If not for him and his oathbreaking she would still be free, Arias alive and Alfonso soon dead.
What in all hell does he want? Coming to see his handiwork? “I don't want to see him. Tell him I'm indisposed...” There was little point in maintaining dignity any longer, Urraca realized. The truth was better, and aye, the truth might even sting a little. “No, tell him that I do not wish to see ungodly men. Tell him that it may not be for me judge him, but that I won't guarantee his safety if he would come here.”
Inés looked at her, eyes wide in shock. The handmaiden had been with Sancha for quite a few years, but mother and daughter had drifted apart even before Fernando died.
Another love Alfonso stole from me. Thus Inés had never truly known her lady's eldest child, which could explain her surprise at Urraca's words. Surely she would have heard rumours, such had flourished around Urraca for years, how she dressed and acted a man, how she wielded sword and rode in front of her own guardsmen in raids against the moors. None of that was true of course, or well, not entirely true at least. Urraca knew how to wield a sword – Enrique, and later Arias had seen to that after she asked it of them – and some might claim that she acted more the lord than the lady, but not much further beyond what was known amongst the Hispanic nobility and in the end Urraca was a lady to the bone, except when in private.
Except when imprisoned like a soulless animal. Her father had made it so.
“Surely you wouldn't want me to say such a thing to a... to a priest? A bishop at that?”
Bishop? So that was his price then. Urraca wanted to scream. Had Velasquez only come to her instead of Alfonso she could have given him so much more.
“A false priest, Inés, and no good and proper lady would let herself be found in his presence.” Urraca had to force the words, her hands itching to go for the fool woman's neck. “Who knows what such a man could do alone with a woman?” Inés stared incredulously at at her.
Just do what I say and make him go away. Then the handmaiden shook her head.
“No, my lady. I can't say such a thing to him. His grace has honoured this man highly, and besides, it's at your lord brother's request he comes. He carries the seal of the king and rides with an honourguard of the king's own.”
The martyr Eneko Velasquez. Velasquez was captured, tortured and maimed by Moorish raiders, shortly after which he disappeared - leading to theories of him being uplifted into heaven
Urraca protested again, and again and again, but no manner of objecting would change Inés's mind. Thus, a mere hour later, Urraca found herself seated in her solar across from the man that had led her by the nose into her cage. Velasquez looked dignified in the bishop's robes, but apparently Inés had blabbed her mouth of Urraca's, or maybe Alfonso had told his guards to see the man safe from her. Her little brother had shown in action and words that he acknowledged her as a worthy foe, Urraca would have to remember that.
Or have I merely grown reckless? Maybe Arias rubbed of on me after all these years.
They ate in silence, and not a pleasant silence it was. Urraca could feel tension stemming from the man, and whenever she gripped her knife she could feel her own knuckles whiten. Velasquez saw it too at one occasion and nearly choked on his meat. The priest avoided looking at her after that, studying his plate intensely whilst forcing down red meat and bread. Urraca responded by staring at him, never letting her gaze fall of his face, and at times more numerous than she could count she found herself wondering she could reach him with her tableknife before the guards got between them. After a while she grow sick of staring though – sick of the silence, sick of this man and his presence.
Better be done with whatever he wants and be rid of him. Urraca put her blade down upon the table.
“Why have you come here, Eneko?” The words were short, filled with poorly held back anger. The priest continued to stare at his plate, filling his mouth with a handful of bread and chewing thoroughly. It was a while before he managed to swallow and answer her.
“His grace has sent me here with an offer,” he paused and looked up at her, just to return his gaze to the table an instant later.
Is he ashamed? He should be. And I will not forgive him, nonetheless. Forgiveness is for the Father, not for me. But I could send him to his judgement... “A most gracious offer at that. Far more lenient than I...” The priest words cut Urraca's vision of blood pouring down his new robes short.
“Is not a priest supposed to be forgiving,
father?” Urraca cut him off, forcing his eyes to meet hers. Velasquez suddenly looked stern.
“Yes, that might be, but for forgiveness there must first be repentance.” He met her gaze evenly now. “And you, vile creature that you are, have not shown a moments regret since I learned of your foul plan. Surely, the lowest of beasts in the eyes of God almighty are the kinslayers and betrayers, and you, a woman at that, are supposed to be dutiful. Such is the purpose of your sex, and you rebel not only against your brother and your king but against nature itself.” Velasquez voice grew in strength towards the end, reaching a powerful crescendo and Urraca found herself remembering why she was drawn to him.
A truly pious man, she remembered thinking of him,
pious and honourable. She had thought that if any would support her against Alfonso it would be the righteous and faithful. His lecture only fed Urraca's anger and sense of disgust by the man.
“You speak of me as if I'm some burning demon, aye, and I may have done many ill deeds Eneko, I confess to that. Oh, bloody hell, I have confessed those sins and been forgiven, by your hand. So what of my dear brothers sins? Murdering fifty good men, women and children in their sleep, and he but a-”.
“SILENCE!” Velasquez slammed his fist on the table, making Urraca jump in her chair. She had not expected that, not from him. “I have spoken at great length with the kings of your... your tall tales of fires and blood, and he denies every single word of it.” That made her want to throw her plate at him.
Of course he bloody denies it? What did you expect, that he would admit to being a murderer? “He also told be of those you claimed murdered, and of their deeds, and I say their deaths were a justice.”
Something snapped inside of Urraca then and white fury engulfed her. She grabbed the knife on the table and jumped towards Eneko Velasquez, slashing at him. The blade cut a deep gash across his cheek and made him fall of his chair, but when she stabbed at the priest's chest a strong leather-coated hand grabbed her around her waist and lifted her off. She spat and cursed at them, slashing wildly at the empty air with her small tableknife.
“YOU BASTARD! KILLING A BRIDE AND GROOM ON THEIR WEDDINGNIGHT IS JUSTICE, IS IT?” Another strong hand grabbed Urraca's arm and wrestled the knife from her. Velasquez stared at his hands, now red with the blood from his face and then turned his eyes, still wide in shock, on her. Urraca had stopped struggling by then, hanging limply in the grip of the guards. The rage was still boiling inside of her, but her body had lost the strength to fight. Later, Urraca couldn't say how much later, Velasquez spoke.
“I came here to offer you to retreat and live out the remainder of your life in a convent...” he lifted his bloodstained hands. “...I would say this is answer enough. May God have mercy on your soul Urraca Fernandez.”
Urraca snickered and laughed.
You should ask me to have mercy upon you. I'm going to kill you... I'm going to kill every single one of you...