DESPITE THE COLD weather the royal reception rooms were hot and full of the loud chatter of hordes of people. It was the eve of the monarchs’ triumphal entry into Granada, and nobles, clergy and merchants wanted to be part of the spectacle. The noise assaulted my senses as Señora Eloisa and I stood under a wall hanging near an outer door.
Señora Eloisa took in the room before us. ‘Now, if you were searching for a husband, Zarita—’ she began.
‘I am not,’ I interrupted her.
‘But if you were,’ she continued, ‘it would be crucial for you to meet the right people. There are those who are well connected and very rich, those who have noble blood but are penniless, and those with fabulous fortunes who are of merchant stock.’ She snapped open her fan and waved it briskly before her. ‘Those who have none of these attributes we will of course ignore completely.’
I was surprised by such rudeness, but then realized my aunt’s friend was using sarcasm as wit.
‘My days of the chase are over, so for this excursion into court society it’s up to you to decide which you prefer.’
‘I only came for the opportunity to have a short interview with Ramón Salazar,’ I reminded her.
‘Indeed, and I will arrange that as soon as I am able. But in the meantime, a woman as stunning as yourself will be the subject of curiosity.’ She looked me over with approval. ‘I must admit I have excelled myself in making over that dress of Beatriz’s. Removing the overskirt of black net to reveal the deep red was inspired. It suits your dark colouring. You are so like her that it’s as if the dress were made for you. And then my genius in covering up your shorn locks with the specially made snood of black lace. Perfect! Perfect!’ she complimented herself. ‘You’ll find that all sorts will come clustering round us wanting to meet you; the informality of this court next to a battleground means we will have to admit them to our presence.’
Aunt Beatriz had chosen my chaperon well. Eloisa’s health was not good and lately she lived mainly in her estates in the north. But to help her old friend she’d travelled south to meet me, arranged accommodation for us, and was now bravely overcoming her fatigue to escort me around the court. I noticed that she was starting to enjoy herself.
‘You will not be in a room for long, Zarita,’ she said, ‘without attracting the attention of a young gallant. In fact I have my eye on one such person who is at this very moment studying you most intently.’ She shielded her mouth with her fan and said, ‘I believe you have caught the eye of the mariner who is with Christopher Columbus, the explorer-navigator who seeks royal financial backing. It’s said they had a difficult interview with the clergy and courtiers this afternoon: they believe he’s miscounted the miles in his proposed expedition. This companion of Columbus cannot take his eyes off you.’
‘Where is he?’ I asked. I swivelled round slowly.
And saw him.
He stood out among the others by virtue of his height, his bearing and his looks. Where once I would have raised my hand and spread my fan to cover the lower part of my face, now I did not. I met his direct gaze with one of my own as he approached me.
‘I beg leave to introduce myself. I am Saulo de Lomas, the mariner who accompanies the explorer and navigator Christopher Columbus.’ He addressed himself to my chaperon but he was looking at me.
There was something in his eyes; something exciting yet familiar, as though an inner part of me connected in some way with his soul.
Señora Eloisa glanced at me to ascertain whether I wished to accept his introduction. I indicated that I did, and she replied, ‘I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Saulo the mariner. I am Señora Eloisa de Parada, widow of Don Juan de Parada.’
Eloisa then went on to chat for an interminable length of time about the weather, the state of the roads, the price of flour, the arrangements for tomorrow’s procession into Granada, the difficulty in hiring an honest servant, again the condition of the roads, until I could have hit her with my fan. Eventually she halted her flow and said to him, ‘Saulo the mariner, allow me to introduce the niece of a friend of mine.’ Eloisa inclined her head in my direction. ‘Zarita de Marzena.’
He was dressed in a very distinctive way. No hat on his head, no capelet or fancy collar around his shoulders, his hair caught back at the nape of his neck by a loosely tied strip of rough black silk, the top layer of his hair bleached by the sun. His face was tanned, with a fine pale scar showing just below his left cheekbone. His shirt shone white against the black of his tunic, hose and boots. He carried no sword, but had a long dagger of eastern origin in his belt. When he stood by me he didn’t smooth his hair or adjust his cuffs as other men do while assessing the impression they are making. I couldn’t imagine this man preening before a mirror, fretting about his appearance.
His lips parted and he smiled at me, and something went to my heart with that smile.
I thought to tell him as soon as I could that I was from a convent, and was ridiculously pleased by the crushed expression that came over his face. Then we fell easily into conversation, and he had humour and wit and fascinating stories and such an open mind. Beatriz would love him, I thought, for his questioning intellect.
It would have been rude to enquire, but I was sure he wasn’t of noble birth; yet he was well read and knew some Latin and Greek and had travelled extensively.
We didn’t move from that spot throughout the evening, and were still there when the queen and king left in procession with their attendants and advisers.
Saulo pointed out the explorer Christopher Columbus to me. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘That is the man who will prove that the world is round.’
We’d been pushed back to allow the royals to pass and Saulo was very close to me, so close I could feel the heat from his body. I knew that he was identifying Christopher Columbus so that I could be a witness to history, and I was pleased that he thought to do this. But rather than being awed at seeing Señor Columbus, I was more thrilled by the presence of the man at my side.