“Do you wish me to wait for a return message, mi señora?’” asked the messenger, who addressed Isabella.
“Tell Mama that I will be ready,” said Isabella sadly.
“Very well,” said the messenger, who then turned and left the room.
“How long will you be away?” asked Lucía, who pouted at the prospect of the loss of her friend for quite some time.
“I do not know. Mama did not say how long.” Isabella was sad at the prospect of having to leave her friend but was also heartened to be going on an adventure. “Don’t be sad, Lucía. I will be back in several fortnights, and then I will tell you all about my time in Portugal.”
Lucía was very concerned, as she had heard stories at court about the hazards of traveling and overheard her father tell a visiting knight to be careful, as trouble was beginning between Portugal and Castile.
Lucía helped Isabella pack her trunks, but she was still concerned about the hazards she might encounter en route to Portugal.
The day of dread finally arrived, when Isabella’s parents appeared with a long entourage of wagons loaded with supplies and servants. The entourage was accompanied by twelve soldiers who wore over their coat of chain mail a surcoat that displayed the coat of arms of Gustavo: three silver swords lying on top of one another on a dark-blue background. Each soldier was fully armed and carried a lance with a dark-blue pennant, which was flying in the breeze. Such an impressive display had not been seen in Segoia for quite some time.
Along with Lucía were Don Fernando, Captain Gómez, and Father Piña, all on hand to welcome Don Alfonso Coronado and Doña Teresa and to wish them well on their long trip to Portugal.
Isabella was torn between having an adventure and staying with Lucía but really had no choice in the matter. Lucía broke down in tears and found it difficult to say goodbye to her best friend and confidante, but Doña Teresa embraced Lucía, comforted her, and told her that they would only be gone for no more than six to eight fortnights. She promised Isabella would write to her about her adventures.
The area in front of the palace became busy as servants hurried to bring down Isabella’s trunks from Lucía’s bedchamber. Once the trunks were packed onto a wagon, the entourage was ready to leave, but not before Father Piña gave a blessing for a safe journey. Isabella then gave her final embrace to a sniffling Lucía, who once again made Isabella promise to write. Isabella climbed into the wagon and waved goodbye. Then the entourage started to leave the palace grounds into the city, through the city gates, and to the horizon beyond. Lucía ran to the tower, where the two girls would often be found, and watched as the cortege disappeared into the horizon.
More than two fortnights had passed before Lucía received her first letter from Isabella. Lucía broke the seal and started to read the letter, proud of the fact that she could now read with only a little help from Yamina or her father.
“Papa,” yelled Lucía as she ran into her father’s study outside his bedchamber, “I have a letter from Isabella.” Lucía tried to catch her breath. “A messenger brought it from Coimbra, and I read it with only little help from Yamina.”
“Good for you, mi pequeño sol. What did Isabella say in the letter?” asked Don Fernando, seated in front of his worktable.
“Isabella said that the journey went smooth but had some difficulty in crossing the mountains, but everyone is okay. One night, several Knight Templars joined them for supper but left early the next morning for Jerusalem. When they arrived in Coimbra, they were greeted by family members and the next day met King Sancho. They had a large welcome banquet at an uncle’s castle outside of Coimbra. They will be going to visit another uncle and more cousins in Lisbon soon. She remembers us in her prayers at night and hopes all is well with us. The letter is signed Isabella.”
Despite the letter, Lucía still missed Isabella, as they had become very close and their friendship had run deep. Lucía would often lie awake at night in wonderment of what adventures Isabella might have had during the day, until sleep finally cloaked itself around her, like a thick mist that obscured all thought.
The days and weeks passed, and Lucía was kept busy with her studies until one day Don Fernando told Lucía that it was time to harvest grapes in the vineyard and asked if she would like to help pick them as her mother had done on many occasions. Lucía was excited and, as a surprise, was given her very own straw hat to protect her from the sun.
Yamina helped Lucía find suitable clothing to wear in the vineyard and found an old green undergarment and a matching green sleeveless surcoat to serve as an outer garment. Lucía put on her straw hat with the cord tight under her chin and walked down to the stable, where her father was waiting.
“Ah, are you ready, mi pequeño sol?”
“Sí, Papa,” said Lucía.
Don Fernando mounted his horse and, with one hand, lifted her onto the saddle. “Now you hold on to the horn tightly with both hands.”
“Sí, Papa. Can we go now?” inquired Lucía, who was very enthusiastic about the prospects of a new adventure.
Don Fernando held on to his daughter and the reins of the horse as they rode out of the palace gate, through the city, out into the countryside, down the long winding road, and to the vineyard below. Lucía noticed the peasant village across the road from the vineyard with its many white huts and the beautiful village church. In the middle of the village was the precious well of spring water from the mountains beyond.
Upon arrival at the vineyard, Lucía saw that it was indeed a busy place, with peasants who scurried about, picking grapes in the each of the rows. There were also several men who went up and down the rows with mule-driven carts and picked up the full woven baskets of grapes ready to be taken to the winery to be crushed into juice.
Before Don Fernando proceeded into the vineyard to help with the harvest, he decided to take advantage of Lucía’s eagerness to learn and show her around the complex. He realized that she was still quite young, but he felt this was a good time to introduce her to the family business and her future inheritance. He first took her to the winery, where wine was crushed into juice by a wine press and by peasant women who used their feet to crush the ripe grapes. Lucía was taken by the women who ran around in purple feet, and she wondered if the purple stain ever washed off. He then showed Lucía how the stems and other debris were filtered out and how the juice was stored in sealed wooden oak barrels for fermentation.
Finally, he took her to the cooper shed, where the oaken barrels were made. Once the wine in barrels was properly sealed, it was placed in the underground chamber by the winery for storage. Lucía was impressed by the dimensions of the underground chamber and the number of barrels contained inside it. Lucía was told that from the chamber, wine was delivered to all the inns, taverns, religious, and noble houses that were contracted. The remainder was for the palace.
Segoian wine making went back many centuries and had a superb reputation for quality and taste. Although Lucía seemed somewhat confused and bewildered by it all, Don Fernando reassured her that she would come to understand it all in time.
The vineyard was filled with peasants, who were engrossed in their work, and their assiduousness was seen not only in the woven baskets they filled but also in their sweat-laden faces. Lucía noticed that most of the workers were either wearing coifs or straw hats to protect them from the sun, and they wore their garments tucked into their belts so as not to interfere with their work.
Lucía was with her father when he spoke to the peasant leader of the village in charge of the vineyard. “Buenos días, Zito.”
“Buenos días to you as well, mi señor,” said Zito.
“This is my daughter, Doña Lucía, Zito.”
“Buenos días, mi señora. What a beautiful young daughter you have, Don Fernando. She is certainly worthy