Free The Witch of Cologne by Tobsha Learner Page A

friar, and that to play the viola da gamba could only increase the chances of a profitable match for the stunning twelve year old. Blessed with an intimidating beauty, the young girl spoke four languages, could embroider like an angel and was notorious for dancing her suitors off the dance floor so charged was her energy. The viola da gamba was to be Sara’s third instrument as she had already mastered the lute and the clavichord. What Isaac hadn’t calculated on was the fanatical nature of the young tutor, a characteristic the diamond merchant had tragically mistaken for diligence.
    Still virgin at twenty-seven, Carlos’s world was far narrower and darker than that of Sara Navarro, whose attributes were already legendary. The first time the young friar was introduced to his young pupil, she was sitting under a marble arch that led into an interior courtyard filled with bougainvillea and almond trees.
    Carlos remembers the tinkling of water. The filtered sunlight across the young girl’s elegant hands as they rested on the strings of a lute. Her face lay in shade, her features ashadowy enigma, her head framed by a halo of light which transformed the curls of her thick black hair into something more threatening and animalistic. It was only when Sara Navarro stood up, stepping out into the sun, that the friar realised she was the most glorious being he had ever seen. Gazing at him with smouldering eyes she appeared to intuitively sense his hidden vulnerabilities, his awkwardness as he stuttered through the formalities in his thick rustic accent. As he stared back, it felt to the young friar as if his destiny had suddenly shifted.
    Over the months that followed, using his natural intellectual curiosity and stumbling charm, he deliberately cultivated an intimacy with the family in the white marble hacienda in the hills. And as they slowly relaxed their guard he began to notice a trail of tantalising evidence, fragments of a puzzle. Tiny scrolls he discovered tucked into a music case. Strange Hebrew symbols scratched into stones. The few occasions when he arrived unannounced and interrupted the family in the middle of what looked suspiciously like a sabbat meal. Clues that led him to the conclusion that Sara Navarro was not only a false Christian but a Jew, who, along with the rest of her family, practised her religion clandestinely.
    But by now the young friar was completely besotted. What did it matter that they still observed their faith secretly, he argued with himself every night, alone in his stone cell at the friary. They were still Catholics; in fact the Navarros were the most pious Catholic family he knew. Señor Navarro was the main benefactor of the friar’s order, his wife a devout member of the congregation. Besides, the daughter was a miracle, the living embodiment of sainthood, or so the friar thought. Her grace was exceptional, her beauty sublime and her musical ability extraordinary. In twenty lessons she had surpassed Carlos’s own craft and had begun to composesonatas of her own. By the thirtieth lesson they were playing the duets she wrote. Although immature, the work displayed a rare musicality which, Carlos liked to believe, transcended gender.
    As the trembling young man guided the soft hands of the girl across the instrument, he imagined that their relationship was a rare discourse, a marriage of emotion and art. A union not besmirched by the sinful fires of lust, but a sacred tie, a consummation of souls. He was positive his love would be reciprocated. Why, had not Sara pressed her thigh against his that time during the recital? More importantly, when he had pressed back she had not pulled away. Surely this was a sign that she loved him also? What about when with sparkling eyes she had untied her shawl during a lesson to reveal her bosom? It was as if she was daring the young friar to respond to the heady perfume that rose up from her perfect cleavage. The vision had nearly crucified Carlos, who,