Greta Gilbert - The Spaniard's Innocent Maiden

‘You have been selected to hear Carlos’s proposal,’ explained Benicio.

Before Armando could protest, Carlos had dropped to his knee once again and was sputtering some muck about the colour of the rose in the light of dawn after the first rain. Undaunted, Armando embraced his role as Luisa and was soon heaving a false bosom and feigning a maiden’s tears. Benicio erupted in riotous laughter.

‘Knaves!’ shouted Carlos. But his sour expression quickly turned sweet, as his gaze travelled beyond his two brothers to a vision just behind them.

‘Dearest friends, what merriment have I missed?’ trilled a delicate, familiar voice.

Benicio and Armando turned. It was none other than Luisa. She had sneaked up on them with fox-like stealth. Benicio felt a rush of blood to his cheeks.

‘Carlos, what wretched errand do your brothers demand that requires you to kneel before them so deferentially?’ She offered her hand to Carlos to kiss, which he did for many long seconds. ‘And, Benicio, you are as red as a cock’s comb. Are your humours out of balance?’

She slid Benicio a playful grin, and his heart flickered. Had she just teased him? Searching for confirmation, his eyes stumbled upon her lips—two large, luscious impediments to his otherwise rational thoughts.

‘Benicio?’ Luisa asked again, her voice leaking concern.

She wore her curly hair pinned up, almost the same as when they were children, with two gentle ringlets framing her round face. As she spoke, they seemed to bounce in rhythm with Benicio’s racing heartbeats. ‘Tell me now,’ she demanded. ‘What are you three devils about?’

‘We were just...practising,’ said Carlos.

‘Practising?’

Carlos opened his mouth once again, but no sound emerged. Benicio stepped forward. ‘It was nothing—a scene from an old book. We had not anticipated its comedic effects. What a lovely summer day, is it not?’

‘Which book?’ asked Luisa. ‘Perhaps I know it.’

‘Ah,’ Carlos stumbled. ‘Ah...’

‘Ah... Amadís de Gaula,’ Benicio finished.

‘Amadís de Gaula!’ Luisa exclaimed. ‘Which scene?’

Now Benicio was in a tangle, for in truth he had laboured most of his life in order to avoid reading the ever-popular Amadís de Gaula. ‘It was the scene in which Amadís the Brave battles the terrible...’ Benicio paused, for he had forgotten the name of the monster.

‘The terrible monster Endriago?’ said Luisa, her green eyes glinting.

‘Indeed!’ cried Benicio. ‘I was playing Amadís, of course, and Armando was playing...’

‘His assistant Gandolin?’

‘Yes, yes! And Carlos was playing...’

‘The beautiful Oriana?’

‘Exactamente!’ Benicio exclaimed. ‘And that is why we were laughing, for Carlos—I mean, Oriana—was pronouncing her undying love for Amadís with the conviction of a practised thespian.’

Carlos was now smiling at Benicio with something like a monstrous rage beneath his grin.

Luisa smoothed her voluminous dress. ‘My dear Benicio, in all the years we have known each other, you continue to surprise me. I had no idea you were such an avid student of our beloved Castilian literature.’

Her admiring smile had produced two perfect dimples at the edges of her round cheeks, causing Benicio’s insides to rollick unbidden. ‘Indeed, I am very fond of Amadís,’ lied Benicio. ‘The chivalric romances have been an integral part of my university studies.’

‘Ah, the university,’ Luisa said and her dimples disappeared. ‘You are still at the university?’

‘I am.’

Why had she asked that question? He had told her as much the evening he had presented his suit. He had also explained the professorship he planned to seek and the life he would be able to provide her as an academic—a humble life, but one full of love and wonder.

‘Remind me when we part,’ she said, ‘I have a gift for you.’

‘A gift?’ Benicio sputtered. If joy were made of water, then he was surely drowning. ‘I will most certainly remind you, mi bella dama,’ he said. He slipped her a devilish grin and watched with satisfaction as she swallowed hard.

Then, with the practised diplomacy of the most sought-after young lady in all of Seville, Luisa turned her attention back to Benicio’s brothers. ‘Of course, we will not soon be parting, not if my dearest childhood friends will walk with me a while?’

She nodded at her wary driver, then wove her hands beneath Carlos’s and Armando’s arms. ‘Tell me, when was the last time we were all together?’ And with that, the three began to stroll.

‘We came to your family’s latifundia for the Feast of the Epiphany two months past,’ noted Armando.

‘Ah! I remember! What a wonderful celebration, was it not?’

She stole another glance at Benicio. ‘And since then, caballeros, what news of your lives?’

Carlos spoke first. ‘I have been accepted into the Order of Santiago. I am apprenticed to become a knight.’

Benicio smiled to himself. After the Reconquista of Spain by the Christians, Queen Isabella had fleeced the Orders of their dominion. The world had changed and knighthood was no longer anything to brag about.

Still, Luisa was staring up at Carlos as if he had just hung the moon. ‘Is it not very dangerous? To command a horse in battle?’ she asked.

‘Any equestrian pursuit carries some measure of danger, my lady. But it is worth it to serve in Christ’s army.’

‘Though the bloody Crusades are indeed a thing of the past,’ Benicio pointed out, feeling a twinge of jealousy. ‘Was it not Aristotle who wrote that the best men behave moderately?’

‘Easily said by a man who rides atop a wooden desk instead of a horse,’ countered Carlos.

Thankfully, Luisa had become distracted by the shimmer of a fine fabric being displayed at a nearby stall.

‘What have we here?’ she asked. A Moorish man was unfurling a bolt of red silk. Luisa touched the fabric to her cheek. ‘My father can no longer indulge me such extravagances. He has lately lost much land to the Ponce de Leon clan in court. Have you not heard of it?’

‘A terrible injustice,’ said Armando, getting Luisa’s attention.

‘But do tell me of your life, Armando,’ urged Luisa, sauntering on. ‘I assume you are training with your father to take over your family’s estate?’

‘No, I have enlisted in the Tercios Regiment.’

Now Luisa halted her stroll. ‘But you are your father’s first son. Why would you risk your life in battle?’

‘To bring glory to my family and to Spain.’

If Carlos had hung the moon with his news of a future knighthood, then surely Armando had lit the sun. ‘You do your country proud,’ Luisa said, staring at Armando as if he were Amadís himself.

‘Would you look at that strange fruit over there?’ Benicio cried suddenly. Across the plaza, a young man was describing a misshapen melon to a crowd of onlookers.

‘We must examine it immediately!’ Carlos seconded.

Benicio and Carlos hurried Luisa and Armando across the plaza.

‘The papaya is not what it appears to be,’ the young man was saying.

‘How much?’ Benicio interrupted, desperate for anything to help him regain Luisa’s attention.

‘Ah...half a real.’

Benicio slapped his half-real into the young man’s hand, pulled a papaya from the bin and sliced his pocket knife through it to produce a bite-sized cube. ‘Sweet fruit for a sweet woman,’ he said, holding the cube to Luisa’s lips.

Luisa opened her mouth and the four young men watched reverently as she chewed. She gave a lusty swallow, then her review: ‘Absolutely delicious. Thank you, Señor.’

‘I am Rogelio,’ the young man said, bowing low.