Spain for the Sovereigns by Jean Plaidy Read Free Book Online Page B

feel that, as I do. Where is Isabella without Ferdinand? No matter what should befall, we shall always stand together.’
    ‘You speak truth,’ said Ferdinand, and his voice was gruff with emotion.
    ‘And together we shall be invincible,’ she went on.
    Then solemnly they embraced. Isabella was the first to withdraw.
    ‘And now,’ she said, ‘to business. We shall ignore these demands; but we must decide how we, with the few resources at our disposal, can defeat the might of Portugal.’

     
    In spite of the ceremonial robes in which her women had dressed her, Joanna looked what she was, a child of barely thirteen.
    There was an expression of mingled resignation and despair on her face. She was to be affianced to a man who was thirty years older than herself, and the prospect terrified her. But this was even more than a distasteful marriage; it was a prelude to war.
    Her women had chattered as they prepared her for this important ceremony.
    ‘Why, Alfonso is the bravest of kings. They say he is called the African because of his exploits against the Moors of Barbary. He is a great soldier.’
    ‘He must be quite an old man,’ said Joanna.
    ‘No, Princess, it is you who are so young. You will not think of his age. He is the King of Portugal and he comes here to make you his Queen.’
    ‘And to make himself King of Castile.’
    ‘Well, only because he will make you Queen.’
    ‘I do not wish . . .’
    But what was the use of stating her wishes? Joanna had lived through so many conflicts that she had long realised the futility of words.
    Her friends were imploring her to enjoy her prospects. A king was coming to claim her hand. She should be joyful, they told her; because they did not understand.
    And when she was robed and made ready she was taken to meet the man who had come to this town of Placencia for the purpose of the betrothal, and to take Castile from Isabella and Ferdinand and bestow it upon herself.
    All about the Palace were encamped the armies of her future husband, so that she could not be unaware of his might.
    And when she stood before him and lifted her eyes to his eager ones, she saw a man in his forties; and that seemed to her very old. She was trembling, but she smiled and greeted him as though with pleasure. All the time she was aware of those two men who had determined to set her on the throne – the Duke of Arevalo and the Marquis of Villena.
    Alfonso took her hand and led her to two ornate chairs which had been set side by side. As they took their seats he said: ‘My dear Princess, you must not be afraid of me.’
    ‘I am so young for marriage,’ Joanna answered.
    ‘Youth is a blessing, compared with which the experience which comes with age is but a small compensation. Do not deplore your youth, my dear one, for I do not.’
    ‘Thank you, Highness,’ she whispered.
    ‘You look uneasy. Do you so fear me?’
    ‘We are very closely related. You are my mother’s brother.’
    ‘Have no fear, my dear. A messenger is being dispatched to the Pope. He will send us a dispensation without delay.’
    She could not endure his inquiring tender gaze, and she feigned relief.
    Alfonso felt happy. He was a man who must for ever pursue some cause, and he preferred it to be a romantic one. He had had great success against the Moors, but fighting the Moors was a commonplace occupation in the Iberian Peninsula. Now here was a young girl – his own niece – in need of a champion. To some she was the rightful heiress to the throne; to others the late Queen’s bastard. Her cause appealed to him because she was young and he, a widower, could make her his bride. This was the most romantic cause in which he had ever fought, and it delighted him – particularly as victory could bring such benefit to him.
    He was not a man to bear a grudge, but he could not forget his meeting with the proud Isabella, who had shown so openly her distaste for marriage with him – King though he was.
    It was not unpleasant