News was brought to him of the unrest throughout the country. In the pulpits and market squares the position was discussed. Was not a subject entitled to examine the conduct of his King? If the land was being drained of all its riches, if a state of anarchy had replaced that of law and order, had not the subject a right to protest?

From Seville and Cordova, from Burgos and Toledo, came the news that the people deplored the conduct of King Henry and were rallying to the support of King Alfonso and a regency.

Henry wept in his despair.

‘Naked came I from my mother’s womb,’ he cried. ‘And naked must I go down to the grave.’

But he deplored war and let it be known that he would be very happy to negotiate a settlement.


* * *

There was at least one other who was not very happy about the turn of events, although he had been largely responsible for it. This was the Marquis of Villena.

He had believed that the youthful Alfonso would be his creature, and that he himself would be virtually ruler of Castile.

But this was not so. Don Diego Lopez de Zuñiga, the Counts of Benavente and Plascencia – those noblemen who had played a leading part in the charade which had been acted outside the walls of Avila – were also seeking power.

The Marquis wondered whether it might not be a good idea to seek some secret communication with Henry and thus, by some quick volte-face, score an advantage over his old allies who were fast becoming his new rivals.

He was brooding on this when his brother, Don Pedro Giron, came to him.

Don Pedro was still smarting under the rebuff which had been given him some time before by Isabella’s mother. Grand Master of the Order of Calatrava though he was, he enjoyed the company of many mistresses; but there was not one who could make him forget the slight he had received at the hands of the Dowager Queen, nor could they collectively.

Don Pedro was a vindictive man; he was also a very vain man. The Dowager Queen had rejected his advances, and he often asked himself what he could do to anger her as much as she had angered him.

Poor mad thing, he said to himself. She did not know what was good for her.

It did soothe his vanity a little to remind himself that her madness was responsible for her rejection of him. It did please him a little to think of her living in retirement at Arevalo, sometimes, so he had heard, unaware of who she was and what was going on in the world.

He would like to get even with the girl too, that sedate little creature who had been hiding somewhere when he had made the proposals to her mother.

It was true that his brother, the great Marquis, sometimes talked to him of his plans.

‘All is not going well, brother?’ he asked on this occasion.

The Marquis frowned. ‘There are too many powerful men seeking more power. I found Henry easier to deal with.’

‘I have heard, brother, that Henry would give a great deal to have your friendship. He would be happy if you turned from Alfonso and his adherents back to him. Poor Henry, I have heard that he is ready to do a great deal for you if you would be his friend once more.’

‘Henry is a weak fool,’ said the Marquis.

‘Alfonso is but a boy.’

‘That’s true.’

‘Marquis, it is a pity that you cannot bind yourself more closely to Henry. Now, if you were not married already you might ask for the hand of Isabella in marriage. Such a connection would please the King, I am sure, and I do believe he would be ready to promise you anything to ensure your return.’

The Marquis was silent for a while. He continued to study his brother through half-closed eyes.


* * *

The Queen and the Duke of Albuquerque were with the King. One on either side of him they explained to Henry what he must do.

‘For,’ said the Queen, ‘you wish to end this strife. If you do not, there may be defeat for you. Alfonso is becoming more beloved of the people every day; which, my dear husband, is more than can be said for you.’

‘I know, I know,’ wailed Henry. ‘I am a most unhappy man, the most unhappy King that Spain has ever known.’

‘There must be an end to this strife, Highness,’ said the Duke.

‘It can be brought about,’ the Queen added.

‘Explain to me how. I would be ready to reward richly anyone who could put an end to our troubles.’

The Queen smiled at her lover over the bowed head of her husband.

‘Henry,’ she said, ‘there are two men who made the revolt, who lead the revolt. If they could be weaned from the traitors and brought to our side, the revolt would collapse. Alfonso would find himself without his supporters. Then our troubles would be over.’

‘You refer of course to the Marquis of Villena and the Archbishop,’ sighed Henry. ‘Once they were my friends... my very good friends. But enemies came between us.’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Joanna impatiently. ‘They must be brought back. They can be brought back.’

‘How so?’

‘By making a bond, between our family and theirs, which is so strong that nothing can untie or break it.’

‘I repeat, how so?’

‘Highness,’ said Beltran almost nervously, ‘you may not like what we are about to suggest.’

‘The King will like whatever is going to end his troubles,’ said the Queen scornfully.

‘I pray you acquaint me with what you have in your minds,’ pleaded Henry.

‘It is this,’ said the Queen. ‘The Archbishop and the Marquis are uncle and nephew. Therefore of one family. Let us unite the royal family of Castile with theirs... then both Archbishop and Marquis will be your most faithful adherents for ever.’

‘I do not understand.’

‘Marriage,’ hissed the Queen. ‘Marriage is the answer.’

‘But what marriage... with whom?’

‘We have Isabella.’

‘My sister! And whom could she marry? Villena is married, and the Archbishop is a man of the Church.’

‘Villena has a brother.’

‘You mean Don Pedro?’

‘Why not?’

‘Don Pedro to marry a Princess of Castile!’

‘The times are dangerous.’

‘Her mother would go completely mad.’

‘Let her. She is half way there already.’

‘And... the man... is a Grand Master of the Order of Calatrava, and sworn to celibacy.’

‘Bah! A dispensation from Rome would soon settle that.’

‘I could not agree to it. Isabella... that innocent child and that lecherous...’

‘You do well to talk of his lechery!’ The Queen laughed on a high note of scorn. ‘Isabella is grown up. She must know of the existence of lechers. After all, has she not been at Court for some time?’

‘Isabella... marry that man!’

‘Henry, you are as usual foolish. Here is an opportunity to right our troubles. Isabella must marry to save Castile from bloodshed and war. She must marry to save the throne for its rightful King.’

Henry covered his face with his hands. Hideous pictures kept forming in his mind. Isabella, sedate and somewhat prim Isabella, whose upbringing had been so sternly pious... at the mercy of that coarse man, that notorious lecher!

‘No,’ murmured Henry. ‘No. I’ll not agree.’

But the Queen smiled at her lover, and both knew that Henry could always be persuaded.


* * *

Isabella stood before her brother. The Queen was present and her eyes glittered – perhaps with malice.

‘My dearest sister,’ said Henry, ‘you are no longer a child and it is time you married.’

‘Yes, Highness.’

Isabella waited expectantly while Joanna watched her with amusement. The girl had heard fine stories of handsome Ferdinand, the young heir to Aragon. Ferdinand was a little hero and a handsome one at that. And Isabella believed that she was to have the pretty boy.

This, thought Joanna, will teach her to reject my brother, the King of Portugal! When she has had a taste of married life with Don Pedro she will wish she had not been so haughty, nor so foolish, as to reject the crown my brother offered her. Perhaps now she would wish to change her mind.

‘I have decided,’ said Henry, ‘that you shall marry Don Pedro Giron, who is eager to become your husband. It is a match of which I... and the Queen... approve; and as you are of a marriageable age, we see no reason why there should be any delay.’

Isabella had grown pale. Joanna was amused to see that the sedate dignity, for which she was now noted, had deserted her.

‘I – I do not think I can have heard you correctly, Highness. You said that I was to marry...’

Henry’s eyes were softened with pity. Not this innocent young girl to that coarse creature! He would not allow it.

But he said: ‘To Don Pedro Giron.’

Don Pedro Giron! She remembered that scene in her mother’s apartments: Don Pedro making obscene suggestions, her mother’s indignation and horror – and her own. This was a nightmare surely. She could not really be in her half-brother’s apartments. She must be dreaming.

There was a cold sweat on her forehead; her heart was beating uncertainly. Her voice was playing tricks and would not shout the protests which her brain dictated.

The Queen spoke then. ‘It is a good match and, my dear Isabella, you have rejected so many. We cannot allow you to reject another. Why, my dear, if you do that you will end with no husband at all.’

‘That would be preferable to... to...’ stammered Isabella.

‘Come, you were not meant to die a virgin.’ The Queen spoke gaily.

‘But... Don Pedro...’ began Isabella. ‘I think your Highnesses have forgotten that I am betrothed to Ferdinand, the heir of Aragon.’