WHEN I RETURNED to my room, the nun was on her knees by the window.
I shook my head to indicate that, as we’d suspected, there was nothing that Christopher Columbus could do to help us.
Sister Beatriz stood up. ‘Saulo, as I told you, I have been given safe passage signed by the queen to return to my convent, but only if I leave before daybreak tomorrow. Would you be my escort out of the palace and the city and go with me to Las Conchas?’
‘Me?’ I stared at her. ‘You want me to escort you out of the city?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘A woman travelling alone, even in the garb of a nun, might be at risk.’
‘And why choose me for this task?’
‘It was Zarita who told me that you were the one honest man in the court she would trust.’
Zarita had spoken of me as being honest and trustworthy. The truth being spoken by a woman facing death. A sudden annoyance at this nun’s assumption that I would meekly do as she requested made me ask, ‘What makes you think I am trustworthy?’
I folded my arms and stood in front of the door, deliberately blocking her exit from the room to indicate that she must answer me or I would prevent her leaving.
She pressed her lips together but did not react as most women would have done by showing fear. It was not pretence. She was truly unafraid.
‘Zarita told me that the only thing of worth that had happened to her at court was her meeting with you, the young mariner who accompanied Christopher Columbus. Any other person hearing that might think it the prattle of a girl struck by the attentions of a handsome man. But I know my niece very well. She has suffered in her life and matured beyond such trivial girlish talk. She must have seen or sensed something in your character that makes you different from others – a nobility of purpose, some steadfastness of soul. And, in any case, can you bear to wait until tomorrow and watch her die?’
‘No,’ I said dully. I dropped my head upon my chest. ‘I will do as you ask.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied. ‘Then please arrange with Rafael to have two horses waiting, for there must be no delay. I want to leave immediately after I speak with my niece.’
I looked at the nun. She stood there before me, hands clasped together and hidden in her wide sleeves. There was a certain tension in her stance, but under the coif and cowl of her religious habit her face was serene.
‘Don’t you care for her?’ I asked.
‘Care for whom?’ she replied. ‘Zarita?’
‘Yes. Zarita!’ I shouted.
‘She is the only child of my only sister, and possesses a good and loving spirit,’ she said with a calmness that infuriated me. ‘I care for her very much.’
‘You cannot love her so much: the prospect of the terrible death awaiting her does not appear to upset you.’
‘I love her more than I do my own life,’ Sister Beatriz replied. She raised her head and looked at me directly. ‘The question is, Saulo the mariner, how much do you love her?’