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sophistry, Don Alvero, and hardly worthy of you. The Holy Inquisition is concerned with Christians who are not Christians except in word and we are deeply, deeply concerned with the souls of these Christians who Judaize, who practise the Jewish rite in secret and who put their immortal souls in terrible jeopardy. As for the Rabbi Mendoza, I know why he came to you.”
    Alvero listened and asked himself whether he was afraid. He said to himself, how much fear have you, Don Alvero de Rafel? You are a Spanish knight and yet the horror of fear is all over you. You are a Spaniard and a stranger here and what will you say to this man, Thomas de Torquemada?
    Aloud, Alvero replied, “His synagogue is very old.”
    â€œAre those your arguments, Alvero?” Torquemada asked, raising a brow. “Do you plead for antiquity and the virtues of antiquity? The synagogue is old but so is the Jew, very old indeed. To destroy the one, you must destroy the other. So long as there are Jews, Christians will Judaize. Did you come to plead with me for the synagogue?”
    With a sudden and impetuous earnestness arid forth-rightness Alvero said, “I haven’t that much courage, Thomas. I am afraid. There is my confession. A Spanish knight pleads fear and horror. But tell me, who is there in all of Spain today who will plead for the survival of a synagogue?”
    Smiling suddenly, Torquemada shook his head. “Alvero, Alvero – you surprise me.”
    â€œAnswer me,” Alvero insisted stubbornly.
    â€œAnswer you? Who will plead for a synagogue? The answer is obvious, Alvero. A Jew.”
    â€œWhich I am not!” Alvero cried.
    â€œWhich you are not,” Torquemada agreed dryly, nodding. He reached for one of the scrolls, opened it and stared at it for a while. “But you have a business associate, one Hans Van Sitten, a Hollander – with enough Jewish blood in him to confess to all things. Here in Segovia he entered the synagogue when the Jews were at prayer. Did you know that I have four reputable witnesses who will swear that he Judaizes?”
    â€œI don’t believe that!”
    â€œReputable witnesses,” Torquemada went on, “Spaniards, and they will swear to this and you tell me you don’t believe it?”
    â€œHe is a Hollander.”
    â€œWill you bind the immortal soul around with national lines? Does being a Hollander exempt him from God’s will? He is a friend of yours, yet will you keep him from the only thing that could purify him, that could give him hope – not in his moment here on earth but in all time?”
    â€œWhat thing?”
    â€œThe stake,” Torquemada said. “You are horrified?”
    â€œYes, I am horrified,” Alvero admitted.
    â€œDo you think it is easy to bury a human being alive? But, my dear Alvero, I am more horrified at the thought of a soul imperilled. Do you agree?”
    There were no words left for Alvero. He stood there, silently staring at Torquemada.
    â€œYou spoke of friendship before, Alvero. I will open my arms and my heart but shall I weaken my faith for you?” He lifted one hand and directed his finger at Alvero. “I tell you this. Bring me proof that Van Sitten is a heretic. Denounce him before the Holy Inquisition. Then I will open my arms to you. Then I will listen to you. Then I will heed your requests, your pleas.”
    Still silent, Alvero stared at Torquemada, who said.
    â€œI ask you only to prove yourself a Christian.”
    Alvero swallowed. He summoned the words and forced them to the surface and managed to whisper, “I must prove that to you?”
    â€œNot to me. To God,” Torquemada replied.

7
    ALVERO CAME OUT OF THE MONASTERY AND STOOD AT the door for a few moments, breathing deeply. It was late afternoon now and a great flight of herons, on their way to the heronry, winged across the sky. As Alvero watched them, a hawk broke up their formation and he wondered