Page 47 of A Column of Fire
‘I mean, who did this?’
‘They were men we’ve never seen before, and almost certainly they’re not from Seville. The real question is who hired them, and the answer is Sancho Sanchez. He’s the one who’s been whipping up resentment of Carlos’s success, and he’s the one who wants to buy the business. I’ve no doubt it was he who told Alonso that Ebrima is a Muslim and works on Sundays.’
‘What are we going to do?’
Carlos answered Barney’s question. Standing up, he said: ‘We’re going to give in.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We could fight Sancho, or we could fight Alonso, but we can’t fight both.’ He went over to where Ebrima lay, grasped his right hand – the left was evidently injured – and pulled him to his feet. ‘I’m going to sell the business.’
Betsy said: ‘That may not be enough, now.’
Carlos was startled. ‘Why?’
‘Sancho will be satisfied with the business, but Alonso will not. He needs a human sacrifice. He can’t admit to having made a mistake. Now that he’s accused you, he has to punish you.’
Barney said: ‘I’ve just seen Jerónima. She thinks they will put her father to the water torture. We’ll all confess to heresy if that happens to us.’
Betsy said: ‘Barney is right.’
Carlos said: ‘What can we do?’
Betsy sighed. ‘Leave Seville. Leave Spain. Today.’
Barney was shocked, but he knew she was right. Alonso’s men might come for them any time, and when that happened, it would be too late to flee. He looked apprehensively at the archway entrance to the courtyard, fearing that they might already be there; but there was no one, not yet.
Was it even possible to go today? Perhaps – if there was a ship leaving on the afternoon tide, and if that ship needed crew. They would probably have no choice about where they went. Barney glanced up at the sun. It was after midday. ‘If we’re really going to do this, we need to hurry,’ he said.
Despite the danger he was in, his spirits lifted at the prospect of going to sea.
Ebrima spoke for the first time. ‘If we don’t go, we’re dead men,’ he said. ‘And I’ll be the first.’
Barney said: ‘What about you, Aunt Betsy?’
‘I’m too old to go far. Besides, they don’t really care about me – I’m a woman.’
‘What will you do?’
‘I have a sister-in-law in Carmona.’ Barney recalled Betsy going there for a few weeks in the summer. ‘I can walk to Carmona in a morning. Even if Alonso finds out where I am, I doubt that he’ll bother with me.’
Carlos made up his mind. ‘Barney, Ebrima, get whatever you want from the house and be back by a count of a hundred.’
None of them had many possessions. Barney tucked a small purse of money into his waist under his shirt. He put on his best boots and his heavy cloak. He did not own a sword: the heavy longsword was made for the battlefield, designed to be thrust into the vulnerable spots in the enemy’s suit of armour, but unwieldy at close quarters. Barney sheathed a two-foot-long Spanish dagger with a disc-shaped hilt and a double-edged steel blade. In a street brawl, a big knife such as this was more lethal than a sword.
Back in the courtyard, Carlos was wearing a sword under his new coat with the fur collar. He hugged his grandmother, who was weeping. Barney kissed her on the cheek.
Then Aunt Betsy said to Ebrima: ‘Kiss me one more time, my love.’
Ebrima took her in his arms.
Barney frowned, and Carlos said: ‘Hey—’
Aunt Betsy kissed Ebrima passionately, her hand buried in his dark hair, while Carlos and Barney stared in astonishment. When they broke the kiss, she said: ‘I love you, Ebrima. I don’t want you to go. But I can’t let you stay here to die in the torture chamber of the inquisition.’
‘Thank you, Elisa, for being kind to me,’ said Ebrima.
They kissed again, then Betsy turned away and ran into the house.
