The Last Jew by Noah Gordon Read Free Book Online

duties of the eldest son, but it was obvious to him that he would never be able to take his brother's place. Not as an apprentice worker of silver, not as a son, not as a brother, not in any way. The dullness in his father's eyes compounded his own sorrow. Although three Passovers had come and gone since Meir died, the house and workshop of Helkias still were places of mourning.
    Some of the pieces before him, wine flagons, were especially dark with tarnish, but there was no reason for him to hurry, because his father seemed suddenly to remember their conversation of half an hour ago. 'You will not go to the river. Find Eleazar and make certain both of you stay close to the house.
    'This isn't a time for Jewish boys to take chances,' Helkias said.
     
    It had been necessary for Yonah to assume Meir's responsibility for Eleazar, who was tender and apple-cheeked, seven years old. He told the younger boy stories about their older brother so Eleazar would never forget, and sometimes he picked out tunes on the small Moorish guitar that had been Meir's, and they sang songs. He had promised to teach Eleazar to play the guitar, as Meir had taught him. That's what Eleazar wanted to do when Yonah found him playing at war with stones and twigs in the shade of the house, but Yonah shook his head.
    'Are you going to the river?' Eleazar said. 'Am I to go with you?'
    'There is work to be done,' Yonah said, unconsciously mimicking his father's tone, and brought the smaller boy back into the atelier with him. The two of them were sitting in a corner polishing silver when David Mendoza and Rabbi José Ortega came into the workshop.
    'What news?' Helkias asked, and Señor Mendoza shook his head. He was a strong, middle-aged man with a number of missing teeth and a bad complexion, a house builder.
    'Not good, Helkias. It is no longer safe to walk in the town.'
    Three months before, the Inquisition had executed five Jews and six conversos. They had been charged with conjuring a magic spell eleven years before, in which allegedly they had used a stolen communion wafer and the heart of a crucified Christian boy in an attempt to turn all good Christians raving mad. Although the boy was never identified -- no Christian child had been reported missing -- details of the alleged charge had been confessed by several of the accused after severe torture, and all had been burned at the stake, including the effegies of three of the condemned who died before the auto de fé.
    'Some already are praying to the "martyred" child. Their hatred poisons the very atmosphere,' Mendoza said heavily.
    'We must appeal to Their Majesties for their continued protection,' Rabbi Ortega said. The rabbi was small and skinny, with a froth of white hair. It made people smile to see him stagger about the synagogue bringing the large and heavy Torah scroll to be touched or kissed by the congregation. He was respected by most, but now Mendoza disagreed with him.
    'The king is a man as well as a king, capable of friendship and sympathy, but of late Queen Isabella is turned against us. She was raised in isolation, molded by clerics who fashioned her mind. Tomás de Torquemada, the inquisitor general, may he expire, was Isabella's confessor during her girlhood, and he greatly influences her.' Mendoza shook his head. 'I fear the days ahead.'
    'We must have faith, David, my friend,' Rabbi Ortega said. 'We must go to the synagogue and pray together. The Lord will hear our cries.'
    The two boys had stopped polishing the silver cups. Eleazar was disturbed by the tension in the faces of the adults, and the obvious fright in their voices. 'What does it mean?' he whispered to Yonah.
    'Later. I shall explain all to you later,' Yonah whispered back, though he wasn't certain he really understood what was happening.
     
    The next morning, an armed military officer appeared in Toledo's municipal square. He was accompanied by three trumpeters, two local magistrates and two bailiff's men who also