The people of Segovia did not wish to believe that their beloved Princess could be guilty of such a crime.

When Isabella heard of the King’s illness she was horrified.

‘He must not die,’ she said to Beatriz. ‘If he does, we shall be blamed.’

Beatriz recognised the good sense of that.

‘Remember,’ said Isabella,’ the conflict in Aragon when the people believed that Carlos was murdered. How many suffered and died during those ten years of civil war?’

‘We must save the King’s life,’ said Beatriz. ‘I must wait upon him. It would not be wise for you to be constantly in the sick room. If he died they would surely blame you then.’

So Beatriz supervised the nursing of the King, and it seemed that because she so willed that he should not die, his condition began gradually to improve.


* * *

The Marquis of Villena rode with his troops into Segovia and imperiously presented himself at the Alcazar.

Isabella and Ferdinand received him calmly, but Villena was far from calm. He was enraged and alarmed.

The King was not to be trusted. As soon as his, Villena’s, back was turned he was consorting with the opposite side. This would teach him a lesson.

Villena demanded that he be taken at once to the King.

‘I fear,’ said Isabella, ‘that my brother is not well enough to receive visitors.’

‘I demand to be taken to him.’

‘You may not make your demands here,’ said Isabella.

‘I wish to assure myself that he is receiving the best attention.’

‘I will send for our hostess and she will tell you that there is no need for alarm.’

When Beatriz arrived she told Villena that the King’s condition was improving, but that he was not well enough to leave Segovia for a while.

‘I must be taken to him at once,’ said Villena.

‘I am sorry, my lord,’ Beatriz answered, her voice placating but her eyes belying her tone. ‘The King is not well enough to receive visitors.’

‘I shall stay here until I see him,’ said Villena.

‘We cannot deny you hospitality, since you ask it so graciously,’ answered Beatriz.

But even she could not keep Villena from the King. Villena had his men everywhere, and it was not an insuperably difficult task to get a message to Henry that Villena was in the Alcazar, and that if the King valued his life he must insist on seeing him without delay.


* * *

Villena sat by Henry’s bed. He was shocked by the King’s appearance. His illness had changed Henry. He had become gaunt and his skin was yellow.

Henry thought he saw a change in Villena. There was a certain lessening of that intense vitality, a certain greyish tinge to the skin.

‘Your Highness should never have been so foolish as to come here,’ said Villena.

‘I could not know that I should be smitten with this illness,’ murmured Henry peevishly.

‘That you should be so smitten was the only reason why you were lured here.’

‘You think they tried to poison me?’

‘I am sure of it. And they will continue to do so while you are in this place.’

‘I trust Isabella.’

‘Trust Isabella! She has a throne to gain. It cannot be hers while you live.’

‘She is certain that she is the true heiress, and she is ready to wait.’

‘But not to wait too long, it seems. No, Highness, we must remove you from here as soon as possible. And we must not allow this attempt on your life to be ignored.’

‘What do you suggest?’ asked Henry wearily.

‘We shall send forces to Segovia. They will enter the town stealthily and take possession of vital points. Then they shall make Isabella their prisoner on the ground that she tried to poison you. We could bring her to trial for that.’

‘I do not believe Isabella would try to poison me.’

‘Then you do not believe the evidence of your senses.’

‘Cabrera’s wife has nursed me well.’

‘A poisonous woman.’

‘A good nurse. She seemed determined to save my life. And, Marquis, do you not think that I should acknowledge Isabella as heir to the throne? She is the one the people want. And with Ferdinand’s help she would bring Castile out of its present troubles.’

‘But your will, of which you have made me executor, clearly states that your daughter Joanna is heir to the throne.’

‘It’s true. Little Joanna. She is but a child. She will be surrounded by wolves... wolves who seek power. I came to the conclusion, when I rode through the streets of the town with Ferdinand and Isabella, that matters would be simplified if I admitted that Joanna was not my daughter and made Ferdinand and Isabella my heirs.’

‘I see that some of the poison has been effective,’ said Villena. ‘As soon as you are well enough to travel we must leave this place for Cuellar. There we will make our plans for the capture of Isabella. We shall not be safe until she is under lock and key. And I tremble for your safety while you are in this place.’

‘I do not,’ said Henry. ‘I do not believe Isabella would allow any harm to befall me.’

Villena looked with scorn on the King and, as he did so, he placed his hand to his throat.

‘What ails you?’ asked Henry. ‘You look as sick as I do myself.’

‘It is nothing. A certain dryness of the throat. A certain discomfort, nothing more.’

‘You have not the same colour that you had.’

‘I have scarcely slept since I heard the news that Your Highness was here at Segovia in the midst of your enemies.’

‘Ah, if I had but known who were my friends and who my enemies I should have had a happier life.’

Villena looked startled. ‘You talk as though you had come to the end of it. No, Your Highness, you will recover from this attempt on your life. And it shall not be forgotten. Let us make certain of that.’

‘Well,’ said Henry, ‘if Isabella was behind a plot to poison me, she deserves imprisonment.’


* * *

In the town of Cuellar, whither Villena had taken the King, plans were made for the capture of Isabella.

‘Forces shall enter the town,’ said Villena. ‘Explosives will be thrown at the Alcazar; the inhabitants will be terror-stricken, and then it will be no difficult matter to secure the person of Isabella.’

Several months had passed since the King’s illness, but he had never fully recovered and was subject to attacks of vomiting.

As for Villena himself, that great energy which had sustained him seemed to be spent. He still planned; he still had ambitious schemes, but the pain in his throat persisted and he found it impossible to eat certain foods.

In the Alcazar at Segovia, Beatriz and her husband were aware of the plot to capture Isabella, and they doubled the guards at all vital points; thus when Villena’s troops tried to make a stealthy entry into the town they were discovered and the plan was frustrated.

Villena received the news almost with indifference.

And the next day even his spirit broke and he accepted the advice of his servants and stayed in his bed. Within a few days he was suffering great pain, and was unable to swallow food. He knew that he had not long to live.

He lay back, considering all the ambitions of his life and wondering whether it had been worth while. He had achieved great power; he had been at times the ruler of Castile; and now it was over and he must lie on his bed, the victim of a malignant growth in his throat which would destroy him, as his enemies had not been able to do.

Isabella remained at large. The people were rallying about her. And he, Villena, who had sworn that she should never come to the throne, was dying helplessly.


* * *

Henry could not accept the fact when the news was brought to him. Villena... dead!

‘But what shall I do?’ he said. ‘What shall I do now?’

He prayed for his friend; he wept for his friend. He had always believed that he would die long before Villena. He had lost his master and his servant, and he was bewildered.

His secretary Oviedo came to him.

‘Highness,’ said Oviedo, ‘there is a very important matter of which I must speak to you.’

Henry nodded for him to proceed.

‘On his death-bed the Marquis of Villena put this paper into my hand. It is your will, of which he was to be executor. I have glanced at it, Highness, and see it to be a document of the utmost importance, since it names the Princess Joanna as your heir.’

‘Take it away,’ said Henry. ‘How can I think of such matters when my dear friend has died and I am all alone?’

‘Highness, what shall I do with it?’

‘I care not what you do with it. I only wish to be left in peace.’

Oviedo bowed and went away.

He looked at the will. He knew the explosive power of its contents if they became known; they were capable of plunging Castile into civil war.

He could not decide what to do with it, so as a temporary measure he put it in a box, which he locked.


* * *

Henry went back to Madrid. He felt not only ill but very weary. He knew that Villena had been self-seeking, a man of immense ambitions, yet without him the King felt lost. He believed that the most unhappy time of his life had been when Villena had sided with his enemies and given his support to young Alfonso. He remembered his delight when Villena had returned to him.

‘And now,’ murmured Henry, ‘I am alone. He has gone before me, and I am sick and tired out with all the troubles about me.’

He was often ill; there was a return of that sickness which had attacked him in Segovia. Indeed he had never fully recovered from it.