BOOK ONE: THE ALHAMBRA DECREE

Copyright 2011 by Lilian Gafni All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, or journal. First printing Published by Lifeline Publishing Books Post office Box 7125 La Quinta, California 92248 Book and cover design by CreateSpace All characters and events in this book are a work of fiction as well as those based on true historical accounts. Any resemblance to actual events or living persons is purely coincidental. ISBN-10: 1463744587 ISBN-13: 978-1463744588 Library of Congress Control Number: 2011909895 Printed in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

http://www.flowerfromcastile.com

ENDORSEMENTS FOR FLOWER FROM CASTILE TRILOGY BOOK ONE: THE ALHAMBRA DECREE

Author Lilian Gafni transports the reader into the rich and evocative world of Spain back when Columbus readied to venture to the New World and the church fomented its Inquisition against the Jews and war against those worshipping Allah. Gafni captures the smells, tastes, and textures of this time while drawing you into the heartbreaking and complex stories of those caught on opposing sides, with the church in the middle. A master storyteller, Gafni will reveal to you a world that will open your eyes and show you a piece of important history while keeping you riveted wondering what will happen next. A must-read! C. S. Lakin, author of Someone to Blame and Intended for Harm Gafnis understanding of the time period seems paramount, and her plot is solid. Isabellas movement between different cultures allows readers to explore what it was like to be a Catholic, Jew, or Moor during one of historys darkest periods. Kirkus Reviews Flower from Castile Trilogy: Book One: The Alhambra Decree is an accessible novel that inspires interest in, and relays the complexities of, a fascinating period in history. ForeWord Clarion Reviews In Flower from Castile Trilogy Book One: The Alhambra Decree, truth and convenience all too often pit themselves against one another. The Alhambra Decree is the first book from Lilian Gafnis Flower from Castile trilogy, discussing the late fifteenth-century wars between Islamic and Catholic Spain, as the two faiths form two nations and battle over the Iberian peninsula. Isabella Obrigon, blessed with a noble life, finds that she has the power to turn the conflict if she faces the truth. But in doing so, she makes many enemies but few friends. A riveting tale of medieval Spain, The Alhambra Decree is an excellent choice for fans of historical fiction. Midwest Book Review

Gafni uses historical fiction to retrace the steps of displaced Jews during the Inquisition. She writes with passionher experiences a springboard. The Desert Sun/My Desert Lilian Gafnis Flower from Castile Trilogy is the human account describing the atrocities inflicted on the unfortunate Marranos and Sephardic Jews, and even on the Moors living in the Iberian Peninsula. So much human cruelty and so many wars caused over the centuries by different religions. The detailed dialogues provide historical information, and make the protagonists more real. This book is a monument to the Marranos that suffered and lost their lives. Manuel Luciano da Silva and Silvia Jorge da Silva, authors of Christopher Columbus was Portuguese! Gafni takes the reader on a journey through time - placing us amid the struggles and conflict caused by religion. As a historical fiction, Gafni gives us everything we need to walk through the towns and villages and feel, taste and smell the ambiance and lifestyle of that time. And thankfully, she never bogs us down with unnecessary details that slow the story. Both my husband (who has very different literary tastes than me) and I loved this book and enjoy discussing it. Gafni is a superb author! Ann White, Rabbi and Chaplain, Radio Host, Transformational Author and Speaker, and author of Living With Spirit Energy: Bring Balance and Harmony into Your Life and World, The Sacred Art of Dog Walking: Making the Ordinary Extraordinary, and Pebbles in the Pond

The Alhambra Decree signed in Granada, 1492 by Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand. Courtesy of Wikipedia

This Book Is Dedicated to Inquisition Victims Whose Voices Were Silenced

ALSO

BY

LILIAN GAFNI:

Hello Exile Living a Blissful Marriage: 24 Steps to Happiness

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS My gratitude to my editor Susanne Lakin

Photo by Alonso Snchez Coello, 1531/321588. View of Seville 15601600. Madrid Museum. Vista de la ciudad de Sevilla en el siglo XVI. A travs del ro Guadalquivir llegaba la Flota de Indias, la flota de galeones que conectaba a la ciudad con los virreinatos Americanos. View of Seville in the sixteenth century. Through the Guadalquivir River, Indies Floats arrive, the galleons floats that connected at the city with the American Viceroyalty.

Iberia, 1492. (Col) Adapted from Muirs Historical Atlas: (1911) Internet Sourcebooks Project University of Manchester

1
The Three Isabellas

U L Y

1453

Love filled Isabels heart as she gazed at her little son. She
knew Salvador would grow to make her proud. If only her cursed, weak heart did not stop her from seeing her wish come true! Baltasar, the physician, had warned her that her heart would give out unless she took to her bed. She laughed in his face and told him that her parents and grandparents had lived into their seventies. Why wouldnt she follow in their footsteps? Everyone knew that only hardy people came from Sintra, the only town in Portugal that had centenarians. She was from Sintra. Nevertheless, Baltasar cautioned her to ease off. Ease off? She smiled at the thought. How could she slow down? With the extra laundry she took in each day and her cleaning work for Dona Elvira, no time was left to slow down or rest. No. She had to continue working hard so that Salvador could have all the things she dreamed for him: an apprenticeship with the nearest blacksmith, then an education at the best maritime school. His father, Fernando, duke of Beja and Viseu, would approve, and so would his grandfather, the famed navigator Joo Gonalves Zarco. She looked up at the castle on the hill and sighed. Fernando hadnt visited her lately. Nor had he brought her the allowance she was waiting for. The last time he came to her with rent money was last spring. She recalled the days before Salvador had been born, and how wonderful their love had been for each other. From the start, they both had kept their relationship secret so that Fernandos father, King Dom Duarte, would not find out. Summer had long passed and her rent was overdue. She had been able to forestall her landlord by paying meagerly with vegetables from her small garden and daily fresh eggs from her hen.

Sooner or later her landlord was bound to throw her out. She shuddered. What would she do to shelter Salvador? Me, Me, look! Salvador called from the waters edge. Standing near the water on the wet sand, he was dwarfed by the landscape of the wide and empty beach. Isabel felt fear in her heart to see how vulnerable her son was. She watched with apprehension the seagulls flying above his head, but they swooped down into the water to catch fish, and flew back up to the cliffs above the beach, where nests dwelled among the lichens in the rock. Isabel looked up at those cliffs to see her little house near the places where thistle grew in abundance, and thought it was high time to go home. She ran to Salvador, who held a starfish struggling to free itself from his hands. She smiled at him. Its a beautiful starfish, my son. It is like the star in the heavens you will be someday. Salvador returned her smile then threw the starfish on the sandy beach. No, no, Salvador, meu filho. You must return him to the ocean, where he came from. You see,she picked up the starfish and kneeled down beside Salvadoryou have to love the starfish because he loves the ocean. And if you love the ocean, then the ocean will love you and be good to you. She picked up one end of her billowing long dress and tied it to her waist, and then she and the boy stepped into the gently lapping waves. She guided his hand as they both threw the starfish into the oncoming waves. She grabbed his hand then turned away from the ocean while Salvador trotted after her on his small legs. Do you love the chickens and sheep, Me? Of course I do! Isabella exclaimed. But why do we kill them? Salvador asked. Isabella was surprised by her sons astuteness. Because we have to eat, she replied. We still have to be good to animals the way we have to be good to people. Dont you ever forget it. Salvador nodded with his full head of reddish curly hair, and his lightblue eyes smiled at his mother. Isabels heart warmed at the sight of her sons beautiful features. She sighed again at the thought of his fathers prolonged absence. When she had inquired at the castle, one of the servants told her that Fernando had traveled to Cadiz and would be gone for a long time. Then the servant looked at her suspiciously. Why do you ask? Oh . . . Isabel had said, It was the farmers who were curious about the Rendeiros tax collectors . . . he wasnt doing his rounds to check the land and collect the rents.

When the young master is gone, the master of collections is in charge. You shouldnt worry, the servant had told her. He will soon be knocking at your door. Isabel sighed again at the recollection, picked up her son, and returned to her small thatched house.
***

December 1453 A funerary procession made its way through the cold December rain on the path leading to the town cemetery. At the head of the procession an old man held the hand of a protesting boy. The man wore black clothing, and his sagging face bore a pained expression. He leaned heavily on a cane with his right hand while his left hand held the hand of the young boy. But I want her! cried Salvador. She promised to take me to the ocean. She promised! He wiped his tears on his sleeve. I know, Salvador. I know she promised you. He nodded at the boy. I will take you to the ocean, and when you grow up you can sail the ocean all by yourself to the end of the horizon. He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. Salvadors eyes followed the gesture. He raised his wet eyes to the old man and said, You promise, Tiyo Abilio? Yes, I promise. Now wipe your face. Salvador wiped his eyes again with the palm of his hand, sniffled, and bowed his head. The procession stopped at an open grave that had been dug in the early morning hours. A man wearing a white gown and a skullcap advanced to the graves opening, and recited a short prayer. Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech haolam, Dayan haemet . . . Blessed are you, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, the True Judge . . . Is Me in there? The boy pointed to the coffin. Yes. Salvadore started to cry again and screamed, Come out! I want meu Me! Shuu, shuu, Abilio said as he patted Salvadors shoulders. The pinewood casket was lowered into the grave, and handfuls of soil were thrown down by each one attending the funeral. Salvadore refused to grab a handful of soil. Instead, he kicked it and spread the soil with his shoes. After the last shovelful of dirt filled the grave, Abilio slipped his hand into his overcoat pocket and brought out small pebbles. He put them at

the head of the grave and gave some to Salvador. The old man wept silently as he watched the boy lay the small stones on his mothers grave. Isabel had been like a daughter to him since she moved next door to him in Sintra. She had filled his cupboard with food, brought woodchips to keep his house warm during cold winters, and entertained him with Salvadors exuberant clowning and contagious laughter. Abilio promised Isabel, while she lay on her deathbed, that he would find a good family to care for her son, and to make sure that Salvador grew up to become a Navy sailor. She confided in him before the end that Salvadors father, Dom Fernando, would honor the paternity and see to the boys well-being and future. It was up to him now to fulfill Isabels wish. In time he would do just that. His thoughts were interrupted by Salvadors sobs. The boy was pounding at the wet clay with his small fists. Abilio pulled a handkerchief from his own pocket and wiped his muddy hands. Lets go, Salvador. We will visit Me tomorrow. He pulled Salvador away from the grave. The grave diggers who had finished their work watched the reluctant small figure of the three-year-old following the bent old man with his cane, slowly walk away from the cemetery ground overlooking the port. On the following morning, when the sky was delicately lit in shades of pink and blue, and the air had a deep chill, Salvador, dwarfed by the figure of Abilio, his protector, boarded a carrack ship bounded for Genoa.