After several hours, Don Fernando was able to access the final damage, and it wasn’t pleasant. Five huts had been burned to the ground and several more were damaged, six people had died from the attack, and three more were wounded but not severely. Three young women were missing, and three rows of the vineyard had been burned. Fortunately, the grapes had already been picked from those rows.
Don Fernando was able to assemble all the village occupants in the village church to reassure them that they were safe and that the possibility of the Moors returning was unlikely. He further promised he would get carpenters to rebuild the huts that were destroyed and arrangements would be made for the homeless to have lodging in the city. He would replant the rows of the vineyard that were burned and that Captain Gómez was currently seeking the missing girls. He also would send six well-armed soldiers to guard the village. The village people were pleased with Don Fernando’s assurances, which now allowed him to go back to the palace to see to his daughter.
The weeks passed, and Lucía was having nightmares about the events of that dreadful day. Unfortunately, while Lucía was hiding from the Moors during the attack, she had caught a glimpse of one of the saboteurs who had kidnapped a girl about her age and had held her tightly by his side. She was afraid that if he had lost his grip on her, she would have fallen and been trampled by his horse. She had also witnessed a soldier who had been struck down by her father fall to the ground not far from where she was hiding, with his eyes still open in death. Also, between the smell of the smoke, the noise, and confusion of the peasants, all drew images that she could not escape and were seared on her mind forever.
Don Fernando and Yamina tried to comfort Lucía as much as possible and told her that the kidnapped girls were all rescued and returned safe and all personal property stolen returned to its owners. The remaining Moors who had invaded the village would never hurt anyone again. These events were good news to Lucía, who had worried about the girls who were kidnapped.
The events of the past weeks had overshadowed the concerns that Yamina had concerning her future as Lucía’s tutor. She was getting on in age and did not feel up to teaching the advanced subject matter that Lucía was capable of learning, but she was willing to stay on for a short while as her nurse.
Don Fernando complimented her for her years of service in teaching Lucía basic subject matter and said that he would speak to the king about a future tutor for Lucía. She would be welcomed to stay on in the capacity of a nurse.
Within days, Don Fernando addressed this issue with the king and queen.
An idea was suggested that Lucía be tutored by Berenguela’s instructor at the royal palace. However, it was decided that it would be best that Lucía remain in Segoia. Therefore, a new tutor would have to be found, and only the best in Europe would be considered. The question remained where such a tutor could be found. Perhaps one could be found at the University of Paris or Bologna? It was decided that they would write to His Holiness, Pope Clement, for his ideas on this matter.
Meanwhile, it was Lucía’s birthday, and Don Fernando had a special surprise for his daughter. Lucía was told to meet her father in the stable. Lucía ran down to the stable, but when she arrived, there was no one in sight, not even José, the stable keeper.
“Papa, are you here?” asked Lucía, not sure what was happening.
“Over here, mi pequeño sol,” said Don Fernando.
Lucía followed her father’s voice around a stall. When she found him, he was in another stall with a beautiful white horse, along with José. “Happy birthday, Lucía,” said Don Fernando, who stepped back to let Lucía examine her birthday gift.
“This is my horse?” asked Lucía as she raised both of her hands to her face in an expression of amazement and disbelief.
“Sí, mi pequeño sol, and ride it in good health,” responded Don Fernando.
“Gracias, Papa.” Lucía went over and embraced her father with tears of joy.
“This is a two-year-old white Arabian stallion, purchased at great expense from a trusted horse dealer who was recommended by your Uncle Alfonso.” Lucía approached the horse, petted his face, and then embraced it wholeheartedly.
After a period of time, Don Fernando asked, “What are you going to name him?”
Having had the opportunity to examine him for several minutes, Lucía announced with a big smile, “I shall call him…” After a slight pause, she said, “Rodrigo after El Cid, Papa, from the stories Yamina told me about him and what a great hero he was to Castile.”
Fernando smiled. “I could not think of a more appropriate name. I’m sure that Don Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar would be more than pleased.” Lucía could now follow her father to the vineyard with her own steed.
While the days passed, Lucía had become accustomed to riding Rodrigo. Then news arrived that Isabella and her entourage were approaching Segoia. Lucía could hardly wait to see her friend again. So much had happened that Lucía could not wait to tell her stories, and yet what about Isabella? She had not heard from Isabella since the first letter sent to her some time ago.
Within a couple of hours, the day that Lucía had been waiting for finally arrived. She and her father awaited for the entourage to arrive on the palace grounds. Upon arrival, Lucía watched carefully as Don Alfonso Coronado stepped out of the wagon first and then helped Isabella out next. Lucía was waiting for Isabella’s mother to also disembark, but that was not the case.
After a pause, the two walked over to greet Don Fernando and Lucía. Lucía could tell something was horribly wrong, as Isabella had red eyes and tears were streaming down her face. Lucía escorted Isabella into the antechamber of the great hall, followed by her father and Don Alfonso Coronado. However, Isabella did not stay in the anteroom. She went immediately out to the garden and sat down on a bench in front of the fountain, where she could seek comfort, with Lucía in close pursuit.
Once both were seated next to each other and Isabella had time to quiet down, Lucía asked, “Why are you so sad, Isabella, and where is your mother?”
Isabella started to grieve again and choked back tears in an attempt to speak and be understood. “Mama is dead, Lucía,” cried Isabella as she wiped away her tears with a piece of linen.
“Dead! Did you say dead, Isabella?”
Isabella nodded. “Sí.”
“But how did she die?”
“Lucía, didn’t you receive the second letter I sent you?”
“No, I only received the first,” said Lucía as her eyes started to water.
“Well, we never left Coimbra. The day before we were to leave, Mama said that she felt ill and retired to the bedchamber. That night, a court physician came to examine her, bled her, and then administered some sort of herb concoction that she had a hard time drinking. I stayed next to her all night. The next morning, when I awoke, I noticed that Mama was even worse than the night before. Again, the court physician was called. After he examined her, he said that she was in God’s hands now. I’ll never forget how he said that.
“Shortly, after the physician left, Mama, who was very weak, whispered for me to come close to her. I rose from my chair and put my ear to her lips, and she again softly whispered to me. She told me not to be afraid, that death came to everyone, to be brave for Papa, and to always keep the faith. Then I saw her smile, after which she took her last breath.” Isabella could not hold back her tears any longer, but she continued on with her story, barely understood. “Lucía, I wept and wept for several days after her death until I had no tears left.”
“And then what happened, Isabella?” asked Lucía, who was also weeping.
“The family had a funeral. My uncle and Papa both agreed to have her buried next to my grandparents in the church crypt at the family estate outside of Coimbra.”
“How