Free Torquemada by Howard Fast Page A

of your family.”
    â€œWhy do you need me? What happened here today?”
    â€œWhile you were gone, the Prior was here,” Maria replied.
    â€œTorquemada?”
    â€œI wasn’t here,” Maria said defensively. “He spoke to Catherine.”
    Alvero turned to Catherine now, who said placatingly, “Father, he only asked me why you wear a silver ampule on the chain around your neck. So you see what a small thing it was?”
    Very gently Alvero said, “And what did you tell him, child?”
    â€œI told him that you had always worn it.” Catherine shrugged, and then asked him what it was. “You see, I don’t know what it is, Father, or why you wear it. Why do you wear it?”
    â€œIt’s only a memory,” Alvero answered. “I shed myself of most of my memories but no one can cast away all of them. No one, not myself – not Torquemada.” Alvero felt under his collar, found the chain and passed it over his head. He laid it down on the table in front of him, the cross and the ampule extended towards Catherine; and dryly and harshly Maria demanded of him.
    â€œAlvero, what are you doing? What kind of a grotesque joke are you making of this whole thing? Torquemada came here to ask about that. Don’t you have any sense?”
    â€œI know that Torquemada came here to ask about it.” Alvero nodded. “The good Prior extends his knowledge. There must be no mysteries for him. I am sure he has guessed what I wear about my neck. Have you never guessed, Maria? Have you never asked yourself why I wear this and what it is? Really, Maria – never once?”
    Juan Pomas rose uneasily. Gripping the table, he attempted to excuse himself. He explained to Alvero that what was happening here now was a family matter and, while he would some day be a part of this family, he was not yet such a part. “So you will pardon me,” he said. “I think I should go now.”
    â€œNot yet!” Alvero said coldly. “Sit down, Juan. You will leave when I tell you to leave.” Then Alvero turned to Julio and said, “That’s enough, Julio. We will be alone.”
    Julio bowed gravely and walked out of the room and then for a long moment the four of them sat in silence, while Alvero’s hands played with the cross and the ampule. Catherine watched his hands, thinking about how strong and competent and long-fingered they were. Why had that never occurred to her before? Juan had collapsed into his chair and now sat staring at the table. Maria, annoyed and troubled, demanded to know why Torquemada had come to their house today. When Alvero did not answer her, she pointed to the ampule and cried.
    â€œWhat is that thing, Alvero?”
    â€œYou ask me now – after twenty-two years?”
    â€œFather,” Catherine said, “for God’s sake, what did happen today?”
    â€œI don’t know. I am not sure. Something happened but I am not sure. How can I explain that to you. This—” Now Alvero held up the ampule. “This thing belonged to my father and, before him, it belonged to his father. What is it? Like the cross, it is a holy thing. Inside of it there is a tiny piece of parchment, and on the parchment, a few words are written—”
    â€œStop! Enough!” Maria cried shrilly.
    As if he had not heard her, Alvero turned to Juan and asked him whether he understood. Did he follow Alvero’s meaning? Juan shook his head. He was puzzled and frightened.
    Watching him, Catherine could only think of a trapped beast – and yet Juan was not a beast – far from it. A chicken in the slaughterer’s hands; a dog with his foot in the trap; or a man drained of manhood. Catherine wanted to cry, to weep, to go down on her knees and plead with her father to stop this thing and let Juan go. But she said nothing.
    Her mother rose and announced coldly, “I will not have this! I will not! I will