I ignored his question, and trying to keep the anger from my voice, I pointed at the guards. “You can dismiss your men, Sir. I have no weapons.”
Don Alfonso stared bluntly at me. “I’m afraid they would not obey me, Princess.” And as if in answer to the open question my face must have shown, he finished, “Yes, my dear lady. I am a prisoner, too.”
“You, a prisoner? But . . . why?”
Don Alfonso offered me his arm. “You must be tired, Princess. Come sit by the window,” he said smiling, though his even voice and his dark eyes did not.
“I gather your family is doing well, Princess,” Don Alfonso said as we sat by the window.
“My family?” Why should he care about my family?
Don Alfonso’s gaze moved to the door where the soldiers stood and then back to me. Falling to one knee, he took my hand in his and in a pressing voice whispered, “Your family, Princess, is precious to me.”
As clearly as if he had said it, the name Margarida formed in my mind. And I knew why he was not with his brother fighting against our kingdom.
“My family is fine, Sir,” I said in a voice I barely recognized.
Don Alfonso smiled and returned to his seat.
Dizzy with the implications of my discovery, I looked up. “Does Don Julián know?”
At the mention of his brother’s name, his face turned red. “My brother is a fool who thinks only of glory. I tried to talk to him, to make him understand that war is not the only way to resolve the situation. And what did he do? He made me his prisoner. Me, his own brother.”
“I know. I tried to reason with him as well. And he laughed at me. He told me his personal feelings couldn’t interfere with—”
“Feelings? What does Don Julián know about feelings?” Don Alfonso had jumped to his feet, and ignoring the fact that the soldiers were listening, his voice exploded in the room with the violence of a trapped wolf. “As far as I know, he doesn’t have any.”
“But he loved Rosa. At least he—”
Don Alfonso laughed.“Loved Rosa? My dear Princess, where have you been? Love was never the issue for him. To win the contest was. And that he won, no one would argue. He won her hand by sword and blood. He defeated all his opponents without getting so much as a scratch. He is indeed a brave and fearless warrior. But strength and valor are not enough to make a great king. Sometimes words are needed, and words, Princess, are my brother’s enemy. They always have been. And his knights are no better either. They stood behind him as one when he rejected my proposal. Their blind devotion to him gives me no hope. They thrive on blood, rejoicing in the thrill of the battle. For them, any reason to make war is welcome. Any excuse.”
With long angry strides, Don Alfonso paced the room. I had the impression he had forgotten about me and the soldiers who, still by the door, had not missed a word. I did not know what to think. For all his annoying rhetoric and self-assurance, Don Alfonso was right. Hadn’t I also tried to reason with Father and John to no avail? I remembered the excitement in their voices as they planned the war, the eagerness in Don Gonzalo’s when he talked about revenge, and I had to agree with Don Alfonso:War was their goal; Rosa, their excuse.
“I am sorry, Princess. I lost my temper.” Don Alfonso resumed his seat by the window. A wild shine in his eyes the only sign of his recent outburst, he was again smiling.
“You don’t have to apologize, Sir. I think you are right. My father, Don Juan . . . they are not fighting for Rosa either, but for their own pleasure. They are all the same. Except for you. You are . . .”
“Different? Yes. I am different. I think fighting is a primitive impulse. Diplomacy is the mature way of solving problems. But what does it matter what I think? It is Don Julián who is King.” Closing his hand into a fist, he hit the windowsill with sudden fury. “If only my brother would find his door and be gone.”
The door! At the mention of the door, my mind started racing. Don Julián was looking for a way to go to the other world. Don Alfonso had told me so the very day I had crossed to California. Why hadn’t I thought about it before? That was the solution I had been looking for. I would offer Don Julián access to the door if he were to apologize to Father and stop the war. This time he would agree. I was positive he would. If only I could talk to him. But how?
Eager to be alone to think, I asked Don Alfonso to leave, using the excuse that I was not feeling well. With many apologies and wishes for my good health, he complied.
As soon as Don Alfonso and his guards left, I looked around my room for inspiration. The door was locked and guarded, but the window—I ran to the window and pushed it open. The room was hanging over a cliff—imposing rocks that no human or animal could ever climb. That explained why I had been given such fancy accommodations. How thoughtful of Don Julián. Well, the match was not over yet. Only time would determine the winner.
My back to the window, I swept the walls with my eyes, searching for a way out. But the room, in all its sober beauty, was a prison, and my hands were bare. Of all my belongings, only my golden arrow and the pouch I had hidden under the pillows before taking the bath were left. I took the pouch out now, and leaning against the pillows, I undid the string and poured the contents on the bed. Some coins, a piece of rope, and, shining brightly against the blackness of the velvet cover, my precious watch. Slowly I ran my fingers over its glittering surface. So beautiful and useless. Dangerous, too. In this superstitious and backward world of mine, they would burn me as a witch if they ever found it on me. Oh, how I wished to be back in California once more with my cousin Kelsey. And John. The old John, of course, not this delirious puppet he had become under the spell of my sister Rosa. As usual, thinking of Rosa unleashed a sudden burst of anger in me. Closing my hand on the watch, I threw it against the covers. For a moment the rays of the sun reflected from the glass. And as I closed my eyes, blinded by the sudden glare, I had an idea, a crazy idea that grew and grew out of my despair until it became a plan.
Later that evening when the maid came to bring me my supper, I was ready. With my best smile, I asked her to exchange clothes with me. She refused. And so I had to do it the hard way. Quickly I produced my arrow, and pressing it against her throat until I drew blood, I repeated my wish that she’d undress. This time she obeyed.
Once she was finished, I bound her hands behind her back and her mouth with one of the pillowcases and changed into her clothes. Then I removed her gag, and holding the arrow against her chest to discourage her from screaming, I asked her the directions to Don Alfonso’s quarters. Her eyes flashing in anger, she did not reply.
“Don Alfonso is your master and needs my help. You must tell me how to find him.”
“King Don Julián is my only master,” she whispered fiercely, “and you are his prisoner.”
Her loyalty to her king was indeed impressive. Or maybe she had realized I was bluffing. Because the truth was, I could never kill her in cold blood. If that is what it took to be a soldier, I thought, Father had been right all along. I could never be one.
I covered her mouth again, and after fetching my watch from the pouch, I returned to her side. Holding it in front of me, I swung it slowly, making sure the maid saw the golden moon already half-hidden behind the dial. The golden moon that in our world symbolized Athos—the constant moon, the moon that never waned, from which, according to legend, the king takes all power.
For a moment longer, I stayed still. Then I covered the watch with my cupped hands and walked to the window. Raising my arms in what I expected to be a dramatic gesture, I lifted the watch above my head.
“By the power of the sun, I conjure thee,” I intoned in hushed tones as I tilted the watch so the rays of the setting sun would reflect on the glass. Then I covered the watch with both my hands and lowered it to my chest. “The soul of your king has been taken. I hold in my hands the power to destroy it.” Turning my back to the room, I opened the window, and arms outstretched, I held the watch over the cliff.