The Last Song

blushing rose when the loud clang of the bell woke me.
    I met Mama on the landing. Like me, she was barefoot and covered by a robe.
    She dug her fingers into my arm. “Could it be your father? Has he come home?”
    We rushed to the front hall. The servants were waiting for us. None of them made the slightest move toward the door.
    “Open the door, Yussuf!” Mama cried.
    The Moor’s fingers fumbled with the locks. Finally, he swung the door open.
    Papa fell into Yussuf’s arms. Mama and I rushed forward and hugged Papa and kissed him until he asked us to stop.
    “Doña Isabel, the Grand Inquisitor instructed me to ask you for a letter you had promised him,” said a quiet voice.
    I turned around and looked toward the open door. Fray Armand was patiently waiting on the stoop. There was a litter with closed curtains behind him outside.
    “Yes, I did promise to give the letter to his grace. I must go to my chamber for it.”
    He nodded and I left.
    It took mere minutes to retrieve the letter from the jewelry chest. I returned to the front hall and handed it to the monk. “This is the letter his excellency is expecting.”
    I watched him through the open door as he took it to the litter.
    “I have it, your grace,” I heard him say.
    Torquemada’s blunt features appeared for a moment in the window of the litter as he reached for the letter through the curtains.
    Papa slammed our door shut. “I don’t want to see them ever again. It’s so good to be home!”
    We bathed my father’s wounds and put him to bed. He was feverish, so Mama sent for the surgeon to apply leeches to bleed him to balance his humors. We fed him gruel by a spoon and gave him ale to drink to helphim recover his strength. Two days later, he was strong enough to leave his bed.
    “Master, Yonah Abenatar, the son of the silversmith Natan Abenatar, wishes to speak to you,” announced Yussuf.
    Papa’s eyes flickered in my direction. “Show him in.”
    The Moor ushered Yonah into the room. Then he bowed and withdrew, closing the door gently behind him.
    “Don Enrique, Doña Catarina, Isabel, good afternoon to you all. Forgive me for disturbing you, but I had to speak to you as soon as possible,” Yonah said.
    Papa asked him to sit down. “What brings you to our home?”
    Yonah’s eyes traveled around the sitting room. “Can we be overheard?”
    Papa shook his head.
    “I have some bad news, Don Enrique,” he said. “I told Isabel that the Grand Inquisitor gave in to her demands too easily.” He lowered his voice. “Unfortunately, my suspicions were well-founded. Pablo, the brother of my father’s apprentice, is a footman in Torquemada’s household. I asked my father’s apprentice to speak to Pablo to find out if he had heardany mention of you, Don Enrique, in the Grand Inquisitor’s household.”
    Papa shifted in his seat. “Has he?”
    “I am afraid that he has. Pablo was cleaning silver in the Grand Inquisitor’s apartment when Torquemada walked into the chamber, accompanied by Fray Armand. They took no notice of Pablo. They were talking about you, Don Enrique.”
    “Are you certain that it was of me that they spoke?”
    “There is no doubt of that. The Grand Inquisitor referred to you as Enrique de Cardosa of Toledo. He also called you – forgive me for repeating this – Enrique the Jew.”
    “No offense taken.” He gave a rueful laugh. “Torquemada might have been speaking of himself. Our ancestors are the same. What did the Grand Inquisitor say about me?”
    Yonah lowered his voice even more. “Torquemada said, and I am quoting him, ‘Enrique the Jew believes that he is safe now. I shall let a few days pass to give him time to celebrate his freedom. How dare he send his whelp to blackmail me?’ ”
    Yonah paused, then continued. “Pablo said that the Grand Inquisitor was so angry that he was shouting. This was the first time that Pablo had ever heard him raise his voice.”
    “What did Torquemada say next?”
    “I am sorry to tell you this, Don Enrique, but the Grand Inquisitor plans to arrest not only you but also Doña Catarina and Isabel.”
    Mama gasped. I started to speak, but Papa silenced me with a wave of his hand.
    “We must leave this place as soon as possible,” Papa said. “The Inquisition has long arms. Nowhere in Sefarad is safe for us.”
    “But where can we go?” Mama asked.
    “When I told my father what Pablo had said, he came to the same conclusion as you did, Don Enrique – that it