The Sands of Time (23 page)

No reaction. He could have been talking to a stone wall.
I am talking to a stone wall

They had been dropped off in a peaceful valley rich with orchards of apple, pear, and fig trees. A few feet away from them was the Duratón River, filled with fat trout. In the past, Ricardo had fished there often. It would have been an ideal place to stay and rest, but there was a long road to travel.

He turned to study the Guadarrama mountains, the range that lay ahead of them. Ricardo knew the area well. There were several trails that wound through the length of the mountains.
Cabras,
wild mountain goats, and wolves roamed the passages, and Ricardo would have chosen the shortest route had he been traveling alone. But with Sister Graciela at his side, he decided on the safest.

“Well, we’d better get started,” Ricardo said. “We have a long climb ahead of us.”

He had no intention of missing the rendezvous with the others in Logroño. Let the silent sister become someone else’s headache.

Sister Graciela stood there waiting for Ricardo to lead the way. He turned and began to climb. As they started up the steep mountain path, Graciela slipped on some loose pebbles and Ricardo instinctively reached out to help her. She jerked away from his hand and righted herself.
Fine,
he thought angrily.
Break your neck.

They kept moving upward, heading toward the majestic peak high above. The trail started to get steeper and narrower and the chilled air became thinner. They were heading east, passing through a forest of pine trees. Ahead of them lay a village that was a haven for skiiers and mountain climbers. There would be hot food and warmth and rest there, Ricardo knew. It was tempting.
Too dangerous,
he decided. It would be a perfect place for Acoca to set a trap.

He turned to Sister Graciela. “We’ll skirt the village. Can you go on a little farther before we rest?”

She looked at him and, as her answer, turned and began to walk.

The unnecessary rudeness offended him, and he thought:
Thank heavens at Logroño I will be rid of her. Why in the name of God do I have mixed feelings about that?

They skirted the village, walking along the edge of the forest, and soon they were on the path again, climbing upward. It was getting more difficult to breathe, and the path grew steeper. As they rounded a bend, they came upon an empty eagle’s nest. They skirted another mountain village, quiet and peaceful in the afternoon sun, and rested outside it, stopping at a mountain stream where they drank the icy water.

By dusk they had reached a rugged area that was famous for its caves. After that the trail would start downward.

From now on,
Ricardo thought,
it will be easy. The worst is over.

He heard a faint buzzing sound overhead. He looked up, searching for the source of it. An army plane appeared suddenly over the top of the mountain, flying toward them.

“Down!” Ricardo shouted. “Down!”

Graciela kept walking. The plane circled and began to swoop lower.

“Get down!” Ricardo yelled again.

He jumped on her and pushed her down to the ground, his body on top of hers. What happened next took him completely by surprise. Without any warning, Graciela began yelling hysterically, fighting him. She was kicking him in the groin, clawing at his face, trying to rip at his eyes. But the most astonishing thing was what she was saying. She was screaming out a string of obscenities that sent Ricardo into shock, a verbal torrent of filth that assailed him. He could not believe that these words were coming from that beautiful, innocent mouth.

He tried to grab her hands to protect himself from her raking nails. She was like a wildcat under him.

“Stop it!” he shouted. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’s an army scout plane. They may have seen us. We’ve got to get out of here.”

He held her down until her frantic struggling finally ceased. Strange, strangled sounds were coming from her, and he realized that she was sobbing. Ricardo, with all his experience with women, was completely baffled. He was straddled atop a hysterical nun who had the vocabulary of a truck driver, and he had no notion of what to do next.

He made his voice as calm and as reasonable as possible. “Sister, we have to find a place to hide quickly. The plane may have reported us and in a few hours there could be soldiers swarming all over the place. If you ever want to reach the convent, you’ll get up and come with me.”

He waited a moment, then carefully raised himself off her and sat alongside her until the sobs subsided. Finally Graciela sat up. Her face was smudged from the dirt, her hair was mussed, her eyes were red from crying, and yet her beauty made Ricardo ache.

He said quietly, “I’m sorry I frightened you. I don’t seem to know how to behave around you. I promise to try to be more careful in the future.”

She looked up at him with her luminous black eyes filled with tears, and Ricardo had no idea what she was thinking. He sighed and rose. She followed suit.

“There are dozens of caves around here,” Ricardo told her. “We’ll hide in one of them for the night. By dawn we can be on our way again.”

His face was raw and bleeding where she had clawed at him, but in spite of what had happened, he felt a defenselessness about her, a fragility that touched him, that made him want to say something to reassure her. But now he was the one who was silent. He could not think of a single thing to say.

The caves had been carved out by eons of winds and floods and earthquakes, and they came in an infinite variety. Some of them were mere indentations in the mountain rocks, others were endless tunnels never explored by man.

A mile from where they had spotted the plane, Ricardo found a cave that was to his satisfaction. The low entrance was almost covered by underbrush.

“Stay here,” he said.

He ducked into the entrance and walked into the cave. It was dark inside, with only faint light spilling through the opening. There was no telling what the length of the cave was, but it did not matter, for there was no reason to explore it.

He went back outside to Graciela.

“It looks safe,” Ricardo said. “Wait inside, please. I’ll gather some branches to cover up the mouth of the cave. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He watched Graciela as she went silently into the cave, and he wondered whether she would be there when he returned. He realized that he desperately wanted her to be.

Inside the cave, Graciela watched him leave, then sank to the cold ground in despair.

I can’t stand any more,
she thought.
Where are You, Jesus? Please release me from this hell

And it had been hell. From the beginning, Graciela had been fighting the attraction she felt toward Ricardo. She thought of the Moor.
I’m afraid of myself. Of the evil in me. I want this man, and I must not

And so she had built a barrier of silence between them, the silence she had lived with in the convent. But now, without the discipline of the convent, without the prayers, without the crutch of the rigid routine, Graciela found herself unable to banish her inner darkness. She had spent years fighting the satanic urges of her body, trying to shut out the remembered sounds, the moans and sighs that had come from her mother’s bed.

The Moor was looking at her naked body.

You’re just a child Get your clothes on and get out of here…

I’m a woman!

She had spent so many years trying to forget the feel of the Moor inside her, trying to push out of her mind the rhythm of their bodies moving together, filling her, giving her a feeling of being alive at last.

Her mother screaming:
You bitch!

And the doctor saying:
Our chief surgeon decided to sew you up himself. He said you were too beautiful to have scars.

All the years of praying had been to purge herself of guilt And they had failed.

The first time Graciela looked at Ricardo Mellado, the past had come flooding back. He was handsome and gentle and kind. When Graciela was a little girl, she had dreamed of someone like Ricardo. And when he was near her, when he touched her, her body was instantly aflame and she was filled with a deep shame.
I am the bride of Christ, and my thoughts are a betrayal of God I belong to You, Jesus. Please help me now. Cleanse my mind of impure thoughts.

Graciela had tried desperately to keep the wall of silence between them, a wall that no one but God could penetrate, a wall to keep out the devil. But did she want to keep the devil out? When Ricardo had jumped on her and pushed her to the ground, it was the Moor making love to her, and the friar trying to rape her, and in her surging panic it was them she had been fighting off.
No,
she admitted to herself,
that’s not the truth.
It was her own deep desire she was fighting. She was torn between her spirit and the cravings of her flesh.
I must not give in. I must get back to the convent. He’ll be back any minute. What should I do?

Graciela heard a low mewing from the back of the cave and quickly turned. There were four green eyes staring at her in the dark, moving toward her. Graciela’s heart began to beat faster.

Two baby wolf cubs trotted up to her on soft, padded feet. She smiled and extended her hand to them. There was a sudden rustle from the entrance of the cave.
Ricardo is back,
she thought.

The next instant, an enormous gray wolf was flying at her throat.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-SEVEN

L
ucia Carmine paused outside the
tabema
in Aranda de Duero and took a deep breath. Through the window she could see Rubio Arzano seated inside, waiting for her.

I must not let him suspect,
she thought.
At eight o’clock I’ll have a new passport and be on my way to Switzerland.

She forced a smile and entered the
taberna.
Rubio grinned in relief when he saw her, and as he rose, the look in his eyes gave Lucia a pang.

“I was very worried,
querida.
When you were gone for so long, I was afraid something terrible had happened to you.”

Lucia put her hand over his. “Nothing happened.”
Except that I’ve bought my way to freedom. I’ll be out of the country tomorrow.

Rubio sat there looking into her eyes, holding her hand, and there was such an intense feeling of love coming from him that Lucia felt uneasy.
Doesn’t he know it could never work? No. Because I haven’t the courage to tell him. He’s not in love with me. He’s in love with the woman he thinks I am. He’ll be much better off without me.

She turned away and looked around the room for the first time. It was filled with locals. Most of them seemed to be staring at the two strangers.

One of the young men in the café started to sing and others joined in. A man walked over to the table where Lucia and Rubio were sitting.

“You’re not singing,
señor.
Join us.”

Rubio shook his head. “No.”

“What’s the problem,
amigo
?”

“It’s your song.” Rubio saw the puzzled expression on Lucia’s face, and explained. “It is one of the old songs praising Franco.”

Other men began to gather around the table. It was obvious that they had been drinking.

“You were against Franco,
señor
?”

Lucia saw Rubio’s fists clench.
Oh, God, not now. He mustn’t start anything that will attract attention.

She said to him warningly, “Rubio…”

And, thank God, he understood.

He looked up at the young men and said pleasantly, “I have nothing against Franco. I just don’t know the words.”

“Ah. Then we’ll all hum the song together.”

They stood there waiting for Rubio to refuse.

He glanced at Lucia.
“Bueno.”

The men began to sing again, and Rubio hummed loudly. Lucia could feel the tension in him as he held himself under control.
He’s doing this for me.

When the song ended, a man slapped him on the back. “Not bad, old man. Not bad at all.”

Rubio sat there, silently willing them to go away.

One of the men saw the package in Lucia’s lap.

“What are you hiding there,
querida
?”

His companion said, “I’ll bet she’s got something better than that up her skirt.”

The men laughed.

“Why don’t you pull your panties down and show us what you’ve got there?”

Rubio sprang to his feet and grabbed one of the men by the throat. He punched him so hard that he flew across the room, breaking a table.

“No!” Lucia screamed. “Don’t!”

But it was too late. In an instant it became a free-for-all, with everybody eagerly joining in. A wine bottle shattered the glass behind the bar. Chairs and tables were knocked over as men went flying through the air, screaming curses. Rubio knocked down two men and a third ran toward him and hit him in the stomach. He gave a grunt of pain.

“Rubio! Let’s get out of here!” Lucia screamed.

He nodded. He was clutching his stomach. They pushed their way through the melee and found themselves outside on the street.

“We’ve got to get away,” Lucia said.

You will have your passport tonight. Come back after eight o’clock.

She had to find a place to hide until then.
Damn him! Why couldn’t he have controlled himself?

They turned down Calle Santa María, and the noises of the fight behind them gradually diminished. Two blocks away they came to a large church, the Iglesia Santa Maria. Lucia ran up the steps, opened the door, and peered inside. The church was deserted.

“We’ll be safe in here,” she said.

They walked into the dimness of the church, Rubio still holding his stomach.

“We can rest for a while.”

“Yes.”

Rubio let his hand fall away from his stomach, and blood came gushing out.

Lucia felt sick. “My God! What happened?”

“A knife,” Rubio whispered. “He used a knife.” He slumped to the floor.

Lucia knelt at his side, panicky. “Don’t move.”

She removed his shirt and pressed it against his stomach, trying to stem the flow of blood. Rubio’s face was chalk white.

“You shouldn’t have fought them, you idiot,” Lucia said angrily.

His voice was a slurred whisper. “I could not let them speak to you that way.”

I could not let them speak to you that way.

Lucia was touched as she had never been touched before. She stood there staring at him and thought:
How many times has this man risked his life for me?

“I won’t let you die,” she said fiercely. “I’m not going to let you die.” She stood up abruptly. “I’ll be right back.”

She found water and towels in the priest’s changing room in the rear of the church and she bathed Rubio’s wound. His face was hot to the touch, and his body was soaked in perspiration. Lucia put cold towels on his forehead. Rubio’s eyes were closed and he seemed to be asleep. She cradled his head in her arms and talked to him. It did not matter what she said. She was talking to keep him alive, forcing him to hold on to the thin thread of his existence. She babbled on, afraid to stop for even a second.

“We’ll work your farm together, Rubio. I want to meet your mother and sisters. Do you think they’ll like me? I want them to, so much. And I’m a good worker,
caro.
You’ll see. I’ve never worked on a farm, but I’ll learn. We’ll make it the best farm in all of Spain.”

She spent the afternoon talking to him, bathing his fevered body, changing the dressing. The bleeding had almost stopped.

“You see,
carol
You’re getting better. You’re going to be well. I told you. You and I will have such a wonderful life together, Rubio. Only, please don’t die. Please!”

She found that she was weeping.

Lucia watched the afternoon shadows paint the church walls through the stained-glass windows and slowly fade away. The setting sun dimmed the sky and finally it was dark. She changed Rubio’s bandage again and, so close that it startled her, the church ell began to ring. She held her breath and counted. One…three…five…seven…eight. Eight o’clock. It was calling her, telling her it was time to return to the Casa de Empeños. Time to escape from this nightmare and save herself.

She knelt down beside Rubio and felt his forehead again. He was burning with fever. His body was soaked with perspiration and his breathing was shallow and rasping. She could see no sign of bleeding, but that could mean he was bleeding internally.
Goddamn it. Save yourself, Lucia.

“Rubio…darling…”

He opened his eyes, only half conscious.

“I have to leave for a little while,” Lucia said.

He gripped her hand. “Please…”

“It’s all right,” she whispered. “I’ll be back.”

She rose and took a long last look at him.
I can’t help him,
she thought.

She picked up the gold cross and turned and hurried out the church door, her eyes filled with tears. She stumbled out onto the street and began to walk rapidly, heading toward the pawnshop. The man and his cousin would be there waiting for her with her passport to freedom.
In the morning, when church services begin, they’ll find Rubio and get
him to a doctor. They’ll treat him and he’ll get well Except that he will not live through the night,
Lucia thought.
Well, that’s not my problem.

The Casa de Empeños was just ahead. She was only a few minutes late. She could see that the lights were on in the shop. The men were waiting for her.

She began to walk faster, then she was running. She crossed the street and burst through the open door.

Inside the police station, a uniformed officer was behind the desk. He looked up as Lucia appeared.

“I need you,” Lucia cried. “A man has been stabbed. He may be dying.”

The policeman did not ask questions. He picked up a telephone and spoke into it. When he put the phone down, he said, “Someone will be with you in a moment.”

Two detectives appeared almost immediately.

“Someone has been stabbed,
señorita
”

“Yes. Please follow me. Hurry!”

“We’ll pick up the doctor on the way,” one of the detectives said. “Then you can take us to your friend.”

They picked up the doctor at his home and Lucia hurried the group to the church.

When they entered the church the doctor walked over to the still figure on the floor and knelt beside him.

A moment later he looked up. “He’s alive, but barely. I’ll call for an ambulance.”

Lucia sank to her knees and said silently,
Thank you, God. I’ve done all I can. Now let me get away safely and I’ll never bother you again.

One of the detectives had been staring at Lucia all the way to the church. She looked so familiar. And then he suddenly realized why. She bore an uncanny resemblance to the picture in the Red, the top-priority circulation from Interpol.

The detective whispered something to his companion and they both turned to study her. Then the two of them walked over to Lucia.

“Excuse me,
señorita.
Would you be good enough to come back to the station with us? We have a few questions we wish to ask you.”