Incognito by Maria Espinosa

Author:Maria Espinosa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wings Press
Published: 2002-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

A pewter basin with lemon-scented water. Fragrant Castile soap. Clean breeches and clean white linen shirt. But his blue leather vest . . .. before his voyage with Miguel . . . now it seemed a lifetime ago . . . his mother had sewn gold pieces into its lining. Where was it? When he found the worn vest crumpled beneath the new breeches, he sighed with relief.

A key turned in the lock. A tall priest entered. He had a gaunt, ascetic face.

This priest also looked vaguely familiar from another time. Was it possible that the priest had attended the Seder service with the Duke of Cádiz long ago? The priest sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’re a handsome lad,” he said to Alfonso. “In case you’re wondering, it was I who sent you the soap and water for washing. You Marranos do enjoy cleanliness.” The priest’s voice was too smooth, and when Alfonso looked into his eyes, the priest glanced away. Alfonso did not trust him. Probably this priest had been given the task of obtaining information from him by gentler, more insidious methods.

The priest then led Alfonso outside to a patio, where a servant brought them trays of delicacies: roasted squab, fresh greens, honey pastries, and country wine, all of which Alfonso devoured hungrily.

They watched the sun set beneath red tiled rooftops.

The priest talked of how he had been inspired through prayer to take Holy Vows, and he spoke of having experienced ecstatic visions. But Alfonso did not believe him. The priest’s voice was too unctuous. There were words, gestures, glances that did not fit together.

“You too have suffered, I know. You’ve been torn between the innocent faith of your childhood and the way of your forefathers.”

How did this priest know so much? Perhaps he had been talking with Father Juan. Perhaps they had arrested him, too, and had tortured him to obtain this information.

Alfonso was silent. He gazed at the bloody pink glare in the sky left by the sunken sun.

Then the priest spoke again, fondling one of Alfonso’s knees as he did so. “I don’t care what doubts you’ve suffered. If you will let me love you, I can spare you further suffering.”

Alfonso recoiled beneath his touch. The priest’s long fingers felt cold and reptilian. His fingers crept up Alfonso’s thigh, lingered on the inside, crept towards his groin. Then he drew back, as if he had touched a blazing coal. “You’re handsome, Alfonso,” he murmured. “Too handsome. Perhaps the Devil has sent you to tempt me. Yes, it’s the Devil in you,” he said, speaking more rapidly. “The Devil draws my hands to your flesh and incites impure thoughts.”

“Señor, I have no desire to tempt you in any way.”

“It would be a pity to maim your body,” the priest said softly. Then more abruptly, “Do you find it in your heart to repent of your sins and confess to the Mother Church?”

“Confess what?”

“Duplicity.”

Blood rushed to Alfonso’s face, and he broke out in a sweat.

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