The Queen's Vow: A Novel of Isabella of Castile by C. W. Gortner

Author:C. W. Gortner [Gortner, C. W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Isabella, Historical, Biographical, Biographical Fiction, Fiction, Literary, Spain - History - Ferdinand and Isabella; 1479-1516, Historical Fiction, General
ISBN: 0345523962
Google: bl-hTM7ZFfwC
Amazon: B005OCYREE
Goodreads: 13534066
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2012-06-12T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

My letter went out, claiming that “if by passion and ill advice Enrique were to deny my rights as heir, it would be a great insult and disgrace to the realm. God will hold the king responsible for this great evil, while my lord the prince and I will be blameless.”

It was a brazen pronouncement, the closest I’d ever come to insinuating that Enrique endangered the kingdom. And in the months that followed, it generated the very reaction Fernando had predicted. Cities and townships which previously supported Enrique, or remained neutral, posted my letter and came over to our cause, hanging banners from their walls with our entwined initials and declaring: “Castile for Isabella!” When I protested to Fernando that I did not wish to appear as though I sought to usurp Enrique’s rights, he laughed.

“What rights? Ávila, Medina del Campo, and six other cities are already for us, and I’m off tonight to throw Villena’s officials out of Sepulveda, at the town’s own request. If matters continue as they are, by Epiphany all of Castile will be ours.”

He was in his element, donning his chain mail and breastplate to rally the admiral’s retainers and the forces sent by Medina Sidonia from the south into effective infiltration units that could scale walls, unlock gates, and overpower royal garrisons in the dead of night, with only the moon to illumine their way. By mid-1472, we held more than half of Castile’s fourteen major townships in our grasp, and by the beginning of 1473 we were confident enough of our safety to finally leave Dueñas for a grand new residence in Aranda de Duero, near Valladolid. Once we were established in our palatial estate, even the most recalcitrant grandees, who had opted to bolster Enrique and his villainous favorite, began to send us covert pledges of support—“no doubt,” remarked Fernando acidly, “because they know that if they do not, I’ll tear their castles down about their ears and put their heads on spikes, to boot.”

Though I would never admit it out loud, this statement, more than anything else, proved Carrillo’s unwise comment that Fernando did not understand the ways of Castile. To harass the grandees was pointless, even dangerous. Pride and ambition were two sides of the same coin to these lords who had badgered, cajoled, and ignored their sovereign for centuries. They must be enticed, brought to heel without realizing it; otherwise they’d bite like the feral dogs they were at heart. I had seen it throughout my childhood, witnessed firsthand the chaos that Enrique had sown in trying to appease the grandee factions, the internecine intrigues and alliances that had tied him up in knots and turned him into a mere figurehead who must bend to the strongest wind.

Therefore, while Fernando assumed charge of our military affairs that year, I undertook the diplomatic—suffering endless hours of penning letters until spots danced before my red-rimmed eyes and my fingertips bled. I answered every missive I received personally. I did not

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