'You're right. Instead of the hero, the princess will wed a villain.'
The wine and the man's sympathetic remark loosened my tongue.
'Truer words were never spoken. Elena must marry a man who believes a woman should be broken like a horse.'
'I see you know Don Luis well despite your short time in the city. And I'm afraid your assessment of him is correct. Poor Elena. She was willing to hide away in a convent to avoid marriage him because he will never permit her the freedom to read and write. And she's a fine poet. The words that are smothered inside her will be a loss to the world. But you must not put the entire blame on Luis. He was raised poorly for the heir of a great name and title. People believe it is his father's fault. The father is a notoriously bad gambler. A bad poet. Even a drunk. If it wasn't for Luis, the family coat of arms would be for sale to swine merchants.'
'Eh, I've heard the father was a bad one, a man who squandered his wealth on gambling and women. Only his title has kept him from the poorhouse. But that is no excuse for the son. There are those of us who were born with so much less and who have had to deal with so much more adversity than a father who was a ne'er-do- well.'
'Of course, and you are one of them. Elena has told me how you sacrificed yourself for your older brother.'
'I—you know Elena?'
'I am also a writer of poetry. Though unlike Elena, I am a writer of bad poetry. But our mutual interest over the years has given us the opportunity to speak many times. To the point where I count her as a friend.'
'Then as a friend, how do we keep her from marrying that blackguard Luis?'
'Ah, amigo, you are new to the city. Be here awhile and you will find out that what Luis wants, he gets. He performed many services for the viceroy to gain Elena's hand after she refused him repeatedly. No, I am afraid nothing can be done. Hopefully Elena will have the courage and determination to insist upon writing her poetry after marriage.'
'If there is a marriage,' I said, darkly.
The man patted me on the shoulder. 'You should not speak in such terms. If it gets back to Luis, he will have to challenge you. You showed great courage in Veracruz, but dueling is another sport. Besides being a fine swordsman, Luis is a scoundrel who doesn't always play fair. If he could not beat you honorably, he would have you murdered by assailants. I speak now as a friend and admirer of Elena's and a man grateful for your services.'
'You must know Luis well,' I said.
'Very well. I'm his father.'
I sipped my wine slowly, watching the dancers. I knew of him, of course. Don Eduardo Montez de la Cerda. After a moment I turned back to him.
'Don't take offense,' he said, 'I truly am Elena's friend. I love her like the daughter I never had.' He looked away from me. 'I love her like the son I wish I had, instead of the one I deserved.'
What I heard in his voice was not pity for himself but regret—and recrimination toward himself.
'I speak to you as a friend, Don Carlos, because I know Elena is your friend.' He locked eyes with me. 'Perhaps in a way that must remain unspoken, she is more than a friend. And because of your own sad family situation'—he saluted me with his goblet—'my lips are also no doubt steered by the wine I've imbibed this day. I feel I can reveal a little of the troubles in my heart. I truly do wish that something would happen to prevent the marriage, but it is impossible. And I do not blame Luis for all that he became. Luis never had the father he deserved. Nor mother. His mother died while he was relatively young. His grandmother, my mother, dominated the household. My own father had been weak and produced a weak son. My mother made up for my weaknesses by instilling her ruthless ambitions on Luis when she failed to drive them into me. While this was happening, I hid my head deeper in the wine keg and the card tables. Each year as Luis became stronger, I became weaker.' He saluted me again with his goblet. 'And that, Don Carlos, is the sad story of my life.'
I became aware of something as he spoke. 'Elena asked you to speak to me. She told you of my love for her.'
'Yes. She loves and respects you enough to want to ensure that you live a long and happy life. That will not occur if you antagonize Luis with attention toward her. She will not dance with you tonight, nor see you again except in public. This is to protect you.'
I started to tell him that I did not need her protection when he grabbed my arm.
'Ah, my mother has spotted us talking. Come along and meet her.' He guided me toward an old woman seated in a chair across the room. 'You will learn more about Luis in a few minutes with her than pondering for a year.'
I followed along, but my attention was drawn to Elena. She was dancing with another partner, and I smiled at her as she swirled by. She gave me a small smile and quickly turned her head. It took a moment to clear my head and remember that his mother was the old matrona who wanted me dead.
'My mother probably wants to meet you because Luis has mentioned you unfavorably. Don't be offended if she seems like she is sizing you up for the scaffold. She has worked as hard for this marriage with Elena as Luis has.'
Could I have avoided the confrontation? Yes. But after spending half of my life fleeing from the old woman's unnamed wrath, I permitted my feet to move forward.
A humorless rasp of a chuckle escaped my lips. 'Your mother and Luis are vipers.'
He shot me a look. Regardless of his candor about his own life, it was not gentlemanly of me to speak disrespectfully of his mother. In other circumstances he would have called me to the dueling field for such a remark.
'Do not blame my mother. Any mother who birthed a son like me would wonder why God had damned her.'
The old woman's eyes met mine as we approached, and despite having steeled my nerves, I was jolted. The old matrona sent my anger racing. This woman had sent Ramon to kill Fray Antonio. Overcome by rage, I jerked my arm from Don Eduardo's at the same time the old woman gaped and started up from her seat.
'Wha—what's the matter?' Don Eduardo asked.
An audible gasp of pain emitted from the old woman. She took a step, her face ashen, her eyes wide, her lips trying to form words. She fell forward, collapsing on the floor.
Don Eduardo rushed to her, crying her name. In a second Luis was beside him. I pushed through the crowd that had immediately gathered around her. Lying on the floor, she refused offers of aid and gestured her son and grandson closer to her trembling lips. The old woman whispered her last words. As she spoke, both Don Eduardo and Luis looked at me with as much shock as the old woman had when she recognized me.
I glared back at them, defiantly. I do not know what words were spoken, but I know they were to throw my life into more turmoil. She had whispered a secret to her son and grandson, a terrible secret that had plagued my life from the day I was born. While I had not heard the words, I had felt them. They twisted my heart and raised the hair on the back of my neck.
My eyes went from the two kneeling beside the old woman to a mirror behind them. I saw my own reflection.
And knew the truth.
ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-TWO
The old woman's eyes haunted me in a troubled sleep that came after hours of even more troubled consciousness.
Mateo was not at the rented house when I returned from the viceroy's ball. I had left while the room was still buzzing about the death of the matrona. Elena had tried to ask me a question as I pushed through the crowd, and I had ignored her.
At my house a message awaited me that Mateo had gone to 'comfort' Don Silvestre's daughter. Mateo's idea of comforting the woman was to give her pleasure in bed. And take a bit himself.
A gallery of the dead—Fray Antonio, the Healer, Don Julio, Inez, and Juana—shared my night, invading my dreams and waking moments. Only the Healer seemed at peace. The others were restless because they were unavenged.
But mostly I saw the old woman. The Fates had brought me full circle. Back to the woman who had started it all in Veracruz. I never understood the old woman's hatred for me. I always assumed that it was a blood feud. But I
