Read Online Return to Paradise (Torres Family Saga) by Shirl Henke - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shirl Henke
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recalled yet a second time to Spain. He seeks my council and I cannot deny him although it troubles me that I have not been able to do more to preserve his office and to save the Indians. Slavers hound them to extinction and his Excellency is powerless to stop them. You should reconsider your decision to remain with the Imperial Army, Rodrigo. Española has need of honest men far more than your general.
I know your feelings about your Indian heritage. If only you could come here and meet these noble souls before they all perish, you would change your mind. They need your strength. So do I. Pray for us as I do for you. May God and Our Lady keep you safe until we are reunited here on Española ...
Rigo scanned the closing with its exhortations to write more often. Bartolome would never abandon hope that his adopted brother might come to the New World.
Isaac watched the play of emotions on Rigo's face as he read the letter, seeing a genuine expression of warmth infuse the harsh mask. “You love this Dominican well,” he said softly.
“He has newly professed his vows with the order in Santo Domingo two years past, but was ordained the first priest in the Indies in 1512. Bartolome is fifty years old now. Unlike me, he has spent his life trying to save others.”
“Their bodies or their souls?” Isaac asked skeptically.
“First their bodies. Their souls he leaves to God's mercy. Bartolome has fair worn out a dozen ships sailing from Española to Spain, pleading the cause of my mother's people. Tis a waste, yet he does not see it so. He is too good for this world,” Rigo said sadly.
“You despise your mother's people,” Isaac said with sudden intuition.
Rigo's face hardened. “They bare their bellies to Spanish steel and do not fight back. They choose rather to let a gentle man like my foster brother sacrifice his life and his health pleading their cause.”
“And you have also hated your father for deserting you. Is it easier to do so knowing now that Aaron Torres is descended from Jews?” Isaac watched Rigo, waiting patiently for a reaction.
Rigo shrugged rather too carelessly, then replied, “When my ministering angel, the lady doctor, first told me my Spanish blood was also Jewish blood, I felt it a great joke, but life has played many pranks on me and I have yet survived. I care not whether Aaron Torres is Jew or Christian, only that he spawned a bastard on a savage and walked away.”
Isaac could feel the pain behind the icy words. He nodded, satisfied that his family faced no threat from the Holy Office. As to the unsettling influence this embittered young man would have on them... “I was right to caution Benjamin concerning you. You will sow discord everywhere you go. Twould have been better if he and Miriam had not been able to save your life!”
Chapter Four
Judah Toulon sat in the accounting quarters that served as his personal audience chamber. Dark furniture from far Cathay lavishly carved with mystical snakes and dragons filled the large room, giving it an aura of menace combined oddly with opulence. The wall tapestries and window hangings were also Oriental, mostly Turkish, in dark, rich hues of purple, indigo and blood red. A massive bronze candelabra gave off flickering light against the dark night as the merchant studied his younger visitor.
Richard DuBay felt suffocated by the sickly sweet smell of incense. Judah's hooded black eyes, as inscrutable as any Mussulman's, added to his discomfort. He resisted the urge to squirm as he studied his own handsomely bejeweled hands. Finally, when Toulon's Christian servant had poured them wine and then departed, he broke the silence. “You know I have desired this alliance for some years. But Miriam is nearly twenty-four years old and the bloom of maidenly youth
I know your feelings about your Indian heritage. If only you could come here and meet these noble souls before they all perish, you would change your mind. They need your strength. So do I. Pray for us as I do for you. May God and Our Lady keep you safe until we are reunited here on Española ...
Rigo scanned the closing with its exhortations to write more often. Bartolome would never abandon hope that his adopted brother might come to the New World.
Isaac watched the play of emotions on Rigo's face as he read the letter, seeing a genuine expression of warmth infuse the harsh mask. “You love this Dominican well,” he said softly.
“He has newly professed his vows with the order in Santo Domingo two years past, but was ordained the first priest in the Indies in 1512. Bartolome is fifty years old now. Unlike me, he has spent his life trying to save others.”
“Their bodies or their souls?” Isaac asked skeptically.
“First their bodies. Their souls he leaves to God's mercy. Bartolome has fair worn out a dozen ships sailing from Española to Spain, pleading the cause of my mother's people. Tis a waste, yet he does not see it so. He is too good for this world,” Rigo said sadly.
“You despise your mother's people,” Isaac said with sudden intuition.
Rigo's face hardened. “They bare their bellies to Spanish steel and do not fight back. They choose rather to let a gentle man like my foster brother sacrifice his life and his health pleading their cause.”
“And you have also hated your father for deserting you. Is it easier to do so knowing now that Aaron Torres is descended from Jews?” Isaac watched Rigo, waiting patiently for a reaction.
Rigo shrugged rather too carelessly, then replied, “When my ministering angel, the lady doctor, first told me my Spanish blood was also Jewish blood, I felt it a great joke, but life has played many pranks on me and I have yet survived. I care not whether Aaron Torres is Jew or Christian, only that he spawned a bastard on a savage and walked away.”
Isaac could feel the pain behind the icy words. He nodded, satisfied that his family faced no threat from the Holy Office. As to the unsettling influence this embittered young man would have on them... “I was right to caution Benjamin concerning you. You will sow discord everywhere you go. Twould have been better if he and Miriam had not been able to save your life!”
Chapter Four
Judah Toulon sat in the accounting quarters that served as his personal audience chamber. Dark furniture from far Cathay lavishly carved with mystical snakes and dragons filled the large room, giving it an aura of menace combined oddly with opulence. The wall tapestries and window hangings were also Oriental, mostly Turkish, in dark, rich hues of purple, indigo and blood red. A massive bronze candelabra gave off flickering light against the dark night as the merchant studied his younger visitor.
Richard DuBay felt suffocated by the sickly sweet smell of incense. Judah's hooded black eyes, as inscrutable as any Mussulman's, added to his discomfort. He resisted the urge to squirm as he studied his own handsomely bejeweled hands. Finally, when Toulon's Christian servant had poured them wine and then departed, he broke the silence. “You know I have desired this alliance for some years. But Miriam is nearly twenty-four years old and the bloom of maidenly youth
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