The Alhambra, Kingdom of Castile, February 1511
She prepared to exit the chapel, crossing herself as she rose to her feet. She was alone of course, preferring to do her daily prayers after mass ended. As she walked through the doorway, she came upon her friend Maria de Salinas. She frowned as she noticed the look of worry on her friend’s face,”What is it Maria?”
“It’s Doña Elvira.”
Catalina sighed, aggravated at the very mention of the woman,”What has she done?”
“Nothing unusual, but the Infanta Catarina quarrels with her.”
Shaking her head, she waved the woman away,”I guess I shall have to see what the issue between them is, go and enjoy yourself with your reading Maria, I will do this alone.”
Sulking as she saw tendrils of the noon sun enter the hall, she marched on to the schoolroom, the very same one where she had pleasant memories of her own tutelage. These were from a much kinder woman than Doña Elvira, she had learned Latin and philosophy under Doña Beatriz Galindo, who, God willing would teach her niece when she was old enough to learn. She had continued to employ old Elvira, this time, as her niece’s governess, simply out of respect to her mother, who had written in her will that the woman was to be provided for. Now, it seemed, she distressed her niece, whether it was something trivial or not remained to be seen, but Catalina hoped it was nothing too serious. As she found herself outside the door of the schoolroom she heard Doña Elvira’s deep, and authoritative voice,”I do not care if your mother said you could go see her dog, that madwoman can wait until you learn French.”
A little girl’s incredulous voice responded,”But I finished my lessons for today!”
Enraged by Elvira’s insult towards her sister, Catalina barged into the room, where the large woman stood scowling. She found her niece in a similar state, and stroked the girl’s cheek,”You can go see your mother, I must speak with your duenna.”
Catarina nodded at this, and left the room, one of her nursemaids in tow. Catalina sneered at Doña Elvira, and brought herself to her full height smacking the old woman hard,”You bitch, how dare you speak of my sister, your better, in such a way.”
As Elvira fell to the floor, groaning in pain, Catalina kicked the woman’s leg,”
Vieja bruja, leave this place and never come back.” (1)
She then stormed out of the room, trusting that the guards would ensure that Doña Elvira took her things and left, she would not suffer to look at the woman any longer than she had to.
She entered her sister’s chambers, to tell her of the news. As she did so a deep growl cut through the air. Startled, Catalina backed away from the antechamber, but stopped as she heard her sister laugh and scold the dog,”Brisa! You vile little creature, it’s just Catalina.”
At that, the dog whimpered, and Catalina chuckled as she moved to see her sister. Juana was not the only one in the room, her niece Catarina sat in the bed with her mother, the lurcher curled up around her, as if to protect the girl, while Josefa de Salas, Maria’s mother sat on a stool by the dwindling fire, sewing. Catalina walked forward, hoping to speak with her sister and niece, but the lean white dog growled again. Rolling her eyes Catalina held her hand down for Brisa to sniff, which she did quickly did so, and then gave the woman a begrudging sigh of approval. She laughed as she gently pat the dog on the top of the head,”She is like her grandsire Juana, she loves you as Bruto loved Juan.”
Juana gave the dog a loving gaze as it turned around and licked her daughter’s face,”Yes she is, her good breeding shows.”
The dog was indeed well bred, though was only one of Bruto’s two living descendants. Bruto himself had passed in the winter of 1505, just two months after his second royal caretaker, Queen Isabella died, which some claimed to be of heartbreak, but the truth was that the dog was old, having spent eleven years in the care of the royal household. Brisa’s mother, Dulce, Bruto’s only pup, had died in 1508, when she was just four years old, after delivering her only litter. This litter consisted of five puppies, three stillborn, with only Brisa and her brother Lucio (who young Ferdinand took as his own pet) surviving. As such Catalina was hesitant to bring up the unpleasantries concerning her former duenna. Her sister however seemed to sense her wariness, and asked,”What is wrong Catalina? Does something trouble.”
She shook her head,”It is nothing, I dismissed Doña Elvira. She called you a… madwoman, so I informed her that her services were no longer needed.”
Juana grinned,”You made the right choice, I never liked her at all, and I’m glad mother made her your duenna instead of mine. Now, let us forget of her, and read something.”
She turned to her daughter, a wry smile on her face,”Have you heard the tale of El Cid?”
The little girl shook her head”No I have not… Is it a good one?”
“Yes, it is, and very entertaining, your aunts and I used to listen to it constantly when we were young.” She looked to Catalina wistfully,”Would you read it for us sister? You were always better with the voices.”
Catalina simply grabbed the book from the shelf and, opening the first page, began to read.
(1)
Vieja bruja means old hag, which is rather appropriate given who Elvira Manuel was….
