Torquemada by Howard Fast Read Free Book Online Page B

years.”
    â€œThen I am his friend.” Alvero shrugged. “He is human, he feels, he suffers and he too sleeps poorly – whether or not you believe that.”
    â€œI believe it.”
    â€œHe is a man and he needs friends. You are right, we have been friends many years.”
    â€œThen you know that he has decided to destroy our synagogue – to burn it to the ground.”
    â€œNo! That is nonsense. Why should he?”
    â€œAren’t there reasons enough, Don Alvero? Couldn’t you itemize them, Don Alvero? He hates Jews. All right, you will reply to me that many people hate Jews. But he is also the Grand Inquisitor now – the head of the Holy Inquisition in all of Spain.”
    â€œThat gives him no right to act against Jews,” Alvero said, “or to destroy the synagogue. You know that. The Inquisition can take action against heretics, backsliders, blasphemers, but not against Jews.”
    â€œRights, wrongs, you have a desperate need to think legalistically, haven’t you, Don Alvero? But it is power that counts. He talks, he preaches. He calls for a punishment upon a pestilence. He is a righteous man, your Torquemada, and out of his righteousness he states what God wills. That is the curse of all righteous men. They talk with God’s voice and Torquemada convinces too many people that it is God’s will that the synagogue be burned to the ground.”
    Alvero stared at Mendoza – regarded him morosely and uneasily but said nothing. Mendoza sat for a little while, and then began to rise, asking Alvero, “Shall I leave you, Don Alvero?”
    â€œOnly if you wish.” Alvero shrugged.
    Mendoza was standing now. He shook his head and appeared to shiver. He stood there in silence for a moment or two and then he said to Alvero, “If you feel that on my part I should be aware of how small a thing a building is, compared to a human life, then I suppose you are right. I invest my synagogue with qualities it does not have. It is a very old synagogue, and we tend to confuse that with holiness, so we say that it is a holy place, a place that God remembers. It has stood here in Segovia for two thousand years. The Carthaginians built it. There were a great many Jews among the Carthaginians. Many reputable scholars believe that the Hamilcar family was Jewish and I once saw an old shred of parchment which said things that proved, in effect, that Hannibal himself had worshipped in our sanctuary. There is an inscription in the stone which says, in the old Aramaic, ‘Here sacrificed Hannibal to the God of his fathers, to the God of Isaac, Abraham and Jacob’, but you never know whether such inscriptions are true or simply the result of legends that build up until someone believes them and feels that they must be inscribed in stone—”
    Alvero rose now, facing the rabbi, and, speaking hoarsely, argued that a synagogue was a building, no more and no less. “Houses are built and houses are destroyed!” Alvero cried.
    â€œI know, I know.”
    â€œThe devil you do!” Alvero shouted. “I can’t help you. Do you understand that? I don’t think you understand what you are asking me. Do you know what you are asking me? Do you actually know what you are asking me to do?”
    â€œYes, I know,” whispered the rabbi.
    â€œWhy did you come to me? Why me, out of the whole city? Suppose we talk to each other frankly and forth-rightly. I have done business with Jews. There isn’t a merchant in Spain who hasn’t and I know how your people work. You buy and you sell and you bribe. You have bribed the City Council of Segovia a hundred times. You have bribed the priests. You have bribed bishops. Why come to me? Take up a collection of the money you need and your synagogue will stand. But why come to me? Why pick me out of all Segovia? Because I saved your life?”
    â€œNo, not because you saved my