New Fanfiction: THE BLACK FLOWER: An Elena Duran Story 5/18
Vi Moreau (vmoreau@ADELPHIA.NET)
Fri, 2 Mar 2001 01:24:49 -0500
THE BLACK FLOWER: An Elena Duran Story 5/18
Chapter 5
"Mariaelena! What is the meaning of this?" the priest asked. "I just heard
you were dining with an Indio* from the north, and I see that it's true. Who
is this man, and why is he at your table? Surely your father would not
approve!"
The Immortals turned to face the new arrival, and Mariaelena bowed her head
slightly in respect. "Padre Teodoro, this man is Corazon Negro, and he is an
Aztec from Mexico, and my guest." She pointed to the other woman. "As you
can see, my aya* is here, and my father has not forbidden me to have guests,
so--"
"But such a man at your table!?" He shook his head. "You are just a woman,
and a child besides. In Don Alvaro's absence, I must take over for your own
welfare." He turned to the Aztec. "Tell me," he asked, examining the other
man through myopic eyes, "are you a faithful son of the Holy Mother Church?"
Corazon Negro shook his head softly, immediately realizing that the priest
could be a problem. The Aztec knew well that a man so tied to his beliefs
was dangerous. "I'm sorry to disappoint you," the warrior said calmly, "but
I haven't embraced your religion yet."
"What?!" The priest was shocked, almost apoplectic. "Then you are a heretic,
a savage! An idolater!" he practically screamed. "How dare you come into
this house and--"
"I mean no harm to anyone," Corazon Negro interrupted, but he was gazing not
at the priest but at his fellow Immortal, who had said nothing. He knew she
was regarding this unfortunate meeting as another test to see how he treated
a venerable churchman, a man who commanded respect among the Spaniards. The
Mexican Immortal was once again struck by her shrewdness. He made sure to
show neither surprise nor anger on his face at the priest's attack. "I'm
just a traveler," he told Padre Teodoro, "and Senorita Mariaelena was kind
enough to given me shelter for a few days--"
"But you can't stay here!" the priest said. "There are no unbelievers in
this rancho*! The Don would never approve or permit it. You must leave now!"
There was an implied threat there that the Aztec didn't miss. Apparently
neither did Mariaelena. Finally she interfered, speaking in a gentle yet
firm manner. Corazon Negro couldn't tell by her bland expression what her
true feelings were, but her tone was respectful and firm at the same time.
"Padrecito, I appreciate your concern, but although I am a woman and a
child, while my father is gone, he has allowed me to be in charge. *I* will
decide who goes and who stays. Thank you, and good night."
Padre Teodoro's mouth hung open. It was obvious to Corazon Negro that the
priest's authority was not often questioned by his flock. Especially by a
woman-child. He closed his mouth, then opened it again and began, "I must
protest--"
"Protest to my father. But now, please excuse us, Padre Teodoro. Corazon
Negro and I have business to discuss."
"Business? With him?! You can't be serious!" the priest sputtered.
"Buenas noches, Padre," Mariaelena said, finality in her voice.
His eyes narrowing, Padre Teodoro hissed, "This is the devil's work!" turned
and left the dining room.
Once the priest was gone, Mariaelena sighed. "He'll speak against you to my
lord, who *is* a faithful son of the Holy Mother Church. He'll be angry with
me," she murmured.
Since the priest was already angry with her, Corazon Negro now wondered what
form Don Alvaro's anger might take, and if the girl was afraid of her
father. Thinking of the prophecy, of the danger to her, he asked, "Will Don
Alvaro hurt you?"
"Me?" She hesitated only an instant before shaking her head. "No. Never. But
you ... perhaps you should not stay."
Anger against himself he could cope with. "I know what I must do,
Curi-Rayen. Wherever comes, I'll embrace my destiny," he replied.
"Very well. It's your funeral--maybe." It seemed to Corazon Negro to be a
threat, but then she gave him what he thought was a genuine smile--her
first--and said, dismissing him, "Buenas noches, Corazon Negro."
"Buenas noches, Senorita," the Aztec said and, without bowing, left the
room.
**********
Later that night, before she went to her bedroom, Mariaelena sent for Paco
Onioco. He met her in the dining room. His battered hat was in his hand, and
he was much more deferential to her here than he was in the stables or out
on the pampa, where he felt, she was sure, more her equal. For a moment she
sat in one of the chairs, studying him. A century ago, her Father had made a
pact with a Mapuche family called Onioco--they would take care of his
holdings, his rancho*, his home, and in return he would protect them from
slavery and from other Spaniards and keep them from harm, and their
children's children as well--as long as he kept his head. In every Onioco
generation there was at least one Indio* who knew the Don's secret of
Immortality, and the Don and his Indios* had lived happily with their
agreement. Elena had sworn to do the same as soon as she had become
Immortal, and she felt very protective of the Oniocos and the other workers
on the rancho*. And they of her. Although Paco Onioco himself was an Indio*,
a Mapuche, she wondered if he looked down on this other native, the Aztec.
Or perhaps he simply mistrusted Corazon Negro. She couldn't much blame him
for that.
When she spoke to him, she rose as a sign of respect to an older person. "Do
you trust this Corazon Negro?" she asked him directly.
Paco's eyes flashed. "No, Senorita. He is an Immortal, and he's here without
Don Alvaro's consent or his knowledge."
Mariaelena glanced at her father's portrait, which seemed to rule over the
room. She knew that Paco had been here when other Immortals had arrived at
the rancho*, and that Paco knew why they came, and what they wanted. She
also knew everyone on the rancho* was afraid of her father. She couldn't
much blame Paco for that, either. But she wasn't afraid--not that the Don
would hurt her *permanently*, anyway. "I take full responsibility for
Corazon Negro's presence here," she said, reassuring the old man. "You
needn't worry."
Paco smiled, smoothing his hat. "If he harms you, Don Alvaro will kill me
slowly, and perhaps others of us as well," he said simply.
Mariaelena nodded, not bothering to deny this. "Then let's make sure he
doesn't hurt me, shall we? I have my sword to hand, and I also have a loaded
pistol in my pocket." She patted her full skirt. "He's kept that club of his
out of sight as I demanded, hasn't he?" At Paco's nod, she continued. "I
know he didn't bring it tonight. And I promise you I don't intend to be
alone with him. But I also know I can count on you, Paco, and the other men
here," she said, letting her trust for him show in her voice.
The foreman cleared his throat. "Even without Don Alvaro, I would protect
you with my life," he said.
"In fact, it is I who should be taking care of you. But I know your devotion
is without question, amigo*." Moving closer to him, she squeezed his hand
briefly, then abruptly began pacing nervously around the room. "However, I
don't think the Aztec will try to hurt me," she added. "I think he's
sincere. He may be mistaken or deluded--but I believe he means what he
says." She studied Paco's reaction .
"Perhaps; but I am watching him closely," Paco answered, and she was once
again moved by his loyalty and his earnestness.
"I feel very safe then," she stated, smiling at him. Glancing up at the
portrait again, she remembered what else she wanted to tell Paco. "My
father left me a note." She took the folded piece of parchment out of her
pocket, then put it back without even opening it. "In it he says he went to
Buenos Aires to intercept an ..." her voice lowered automatically, "...
Immortal. But *not* Corazon Negro--it's an Immortal from Spain," she hurried
to explain. Although it was possible that the Aztec was lying to her, and
had come from Spain ... no. It didn't make sense.
Paco had looked alarmed at her mention of the note, but settled down when
she assured him it was not about their guest. "The Don is of course
experienced in these matters. Does he urge you to take special care?"
"He advised me to be alert," she said.
"Well. Perhaps then you should stay close to the house; not go out riding
until Don Alvaro returns," he suggested.
She frowned. Riding was her favorite activity, and she often helped the
riders herd the long-horned, savage cattle on the rancho*. She also loved
catching sight of the wild horses on the pampa, and especially loved
galloping, the wind in her hair, the freedom, the passion, the feeling of
the powerful horse underneath her ... she sighed. "My lord knows I ride
daily, and he did not forbid it in his note. He simply said to be alert--we
can do that. And you and the others will be with me. You can make sure you
are especially well armed. Also, the Aztec will undoubtedly want to stay
close to me, whether I stay in the house or ride; and he has sworn to
protect me," she ventured, smiling a little. But to be fair, she couldn't
hold Paco even partially responsible for her safety and then not follow his
advice. She sighed again. "If you think we shouldn't ..." She trailed off,
hoping he wouldn't think that.
Paco considered the matter. Finally he said, "We can bring one more man, and
be on our guard, as you say. As for the Aztec--I'd like to see if he can
stay on a horse for any length of time," he said, smiling himself.
"Yes. That might be entertaining," she agreed, quite amused, and clapping
her hands together softly. "Well, buenas noches, Paco. And thank you."
He bowed. "You are welcome, Senorita. Buenas noches," he said, and left.
Mariaelena looked after the old man and wondered, again, if she was doing
the smart thing. Paco didn't trust the Mexican Immortal, yet he hadn't
suggested turning him out or trying to harm him. And she knew Paco would not
compromise her safety. Perhaps the mortal Indio* did trust Corazon Negro, a
little; or perhaps Paco was a believer in prophecies.
An hour later, Mariaelena sat on a stool in her bedroom, in front of her
dressing table. "Am I doing the right thing, Fernanda? About this Aztec,
this Corazon Negro?" Mariaelena asked, squinting to look at her reflection
in the polished piece of metal hanging from the stone wall behind the table.
Two tapers burned on either side of the 'mirror', giving the only
illumination to the room.
The older woman paused in her brushing of Mariaelena's long black hair,
pursing her lips, and Mariaelena could just make this out in her glass. It
meant that her aya* was thinking. Fernanda knew her place. She never gave
her opinion unless it was asked for, but she was a deep thinker, although
not a quick one. Mariaelena waited as patiently as she was able, her hands
resting lightly on the table. After a moment her fingers started drumming,
and still Fernanda said nothing.
Finally, the Spanish woman spoke. "First of all, he is a man, and therefore
not to be trusted."
Mariaelena smiled. Fernanda had had an abusive father and a worse husband,
and it was a measure of Don Alvaro's honorable nature that she trusted him
enough to work for him.
"Also, he is an unbeliever. Padre Teodoro says that the Indio* is a tool of
the devil, and will corrupt you; that he should be burned at the stake."
This chilled Mariaelena. She knew there was danger for the Aztec, and for
her and her father as well, but they couldn't simply get rid of a priest.
She was also well aware that Fernanda, like most Spanish women, was deeply
religious and had a great deal of respect for the clergy. Fernanda didn't
think much of Indios* either, although Mariaelena was aware that the older
woman made allowances for the fact that her charge, a young woman she loved
fiercely, was of mixed blood. "If Padre Teodoro knew about us, he would burn
Father and me, you know," Mariaelena stated bluntly.
"The priest will not find out from me," Fernanda said firmly.
"I know," Mariaelena smiled, her heart full. Fernanda was another who would
die for her. She wondered what she had done to deserve such devotion. But
then she raised her head. Her duty, of course, was to make sure she was
worthy of these two mortals' loyalty; and to make sure they were *not* hurt
because of her. Then she asked, "Do you really think he will corrupt me?"
It was Fernanda's turn to smile. "No, child," she said. "I don't think
anyone can corrupt you. You are too smart and too strong-willed. But I do
believe he will burn in Hell, if not here on Earth, for his lack of faith.
And in the meantime, he could hurt you. He is a man, after all."
Mariaelena sighed, leaning back on her stool. Mariaelena had been abused by
men too, as a child--probably much worse than Fernanda had been. In the eyes
of many Spaniards--unfortunately including the Don who had *owned*
Mariaelena in her childhood--Indias* were animals to be used for men's
pleasure, and half-breeds did not fare much better. That particular bastard
was now burning in Hell, courtesy of Don Alvaro, the one good man who had
rescued her, loved her, then trained her--and restored some of her faith in
men. Poor Fernanda had never felt loved like this by any man. "Yes, I
noticed he's a man, Fernandita. It's very obvious," she added,
unnecessarily.
At this Fernanda's eyebrows rose. "Yes, he is a young and strong man, a
warrior, and therefore attractive to a young woman like yourself. But this
is not the time to be foolish and romantic. There is a danger here, and you
must be aware of it. You must not let his ... lustiness ... influence you,
Mariaelena." She squeezed Mariaelena's shoulder, making sure this particular
piece of advice sank in, then continued, no less seriously, "And of course,
he is an Immortal. That makes him your natural enemy, and your
father's--does it not?"
"You're right again," Mariaelena acknowledged, wondering if she was being
influenced by the Aztec's ... lustiness, and thinking that Fernanda was
indeed a deep and careful and very logical thinker.
"I usually am right," the older woman answered.
And modest, too, Mariaelena thought, amused. "Which brings me back to my
original question--what should I do? Am I doing the right thing?"
"I think you are right to keep Corazon Negro here until your father returns
and decides what to do with him," Fernanda stated, firmly. "But be very
careful. Coitela*, Mariaelena."
"You're always warning me to be careful, and I always am, mi querida
amiga*," Mariaelena said, turning to smile at her companion, and squeezing
the older woman's hand.
Fernanda squeezed back, then for a few minutes she went back to brushing
Mariaelena's hair, with long, soothing strokes. The Spanish woman began to
hum an old lullaby, and the young Immortal gave herself up to the sensation,
closing her eyes and just feeling. She could make out the lights and shadows
of the candles dancing beyond her closed lids, and the flowers which had
been brought into her room filled it with a soft and gentle fragrance. She
smiled, feeling, for the moment, perfectly content and completely safe.
But after a while the older woman spoke again. "There is ... something I
don't like to admit, but ..."
Mariaelena opened her eyes and waited again, but not too long. Impatient,
she started to speak, but Fernanda said, "I listened to his words, and I ...
believe he is an honest man."
This surprised Mariaelena. Raising dark brows, she turned in her stool to
look fully at Fernanda. Mariaelena had come to the same conclusion, but
wondered if the sincere look in the older Immortal's dark brown eyes had
been designed to trick her. If so, he had apparently tricked Fernanda as
well. "You believe him?" Mariaelena asked.
"I believe he believes this prophecy, and is acting accordingly."
The aya* had stopped brushing her hair, and the younger woman ran her hands
through her hair with a sigh, stretched, then rose to prepare herself for
bed. She said, decidedly, "I believe him, too. But I will be careful."
"Good," Fernanda answered.
**********
Lying on his blanket outside the workers' huts, Corazon Negro looked up at
the sky. For centuries he had slept in the wilderness, and he was used to
having the stars as his canopy. Tonight the sky was totally cloudless, and
Noh-Ek, the star called Venus by the Spaniards, the star that commemorated
Corazon Negro's immortal father, Quetzalcohuatl, blinked brilliantly from
its height.
Paco and Fernanda both knew the secret of Immortals. Apparently Curi-Rayen
and the Don trusted those two mortals, enough to have revealed themselves to
the man and the woman. That really didn't bother Corazon Negro; if the truth
was the gift given by Mariaelena and the Don to Paco and to Fernanda, so be
it. The old rancho* foreman had very specifically threatened the Aztec, but
as long as Mariaelena was safe, Paco wouldn't be a danger to the Mexican
Immortal. After all, at dawn Paco would begin teaching the Aztec how to care
for horses, and they'd have to learn to work together. As for Fernanda,
there was no physical danger to him from that end: she was a woman and a
mortal. The worst she could do was expose him, and she could not betray
Corazon Negro's secret without also risking her own master and the young
woman who was in her care.
But the priest was another matter. Padre Teodoro was a fanatic, and Corazon
Negro had seen that kind of intense look on other faces before. The
Inquisition had been established in Mexico in 1571, and the warrior could
remember stories he had heard about whippings and autos da fe*--public
executions by fire--where the Great Temple's Square had been. Corazon Negro
had no desire to burn. He had informed himself on the situation with the
Sagrada Hermandad**, the office of the Inquisition. As far as he knew, all
of what the Spaniards called South America was under Inquisition control,
ruled by the Lima Tribunal. The warrior just hoped that Padre Teodoro didn't
have links with the Inquisition.
That thought made Corazon Negro worry even more. Perhaps that was the
prophecy. Surely the priest didn't know about Immortals; otherwise, a man
like Padre Teodoro would have delivered Mariaelena and the Don to his Church
in a heartbeat, accusing them both of witchcraft or devil-worship. Which
meant that Corazon Negro had to be very careful, because he was not the only
one in danger. If her secret was discovered, the black flower would also
burn in the bonfire.
However, since Mariaelena and her Father had obviously hidden their
Immortality from the priest for some time, perhaps the prophecy referred to
another threat. Don Alvaro had left Mariaelena alone and unprotected, and
the Aztec couldn't help thinking this fact was linked to the danger in the
prophecy. He was sure the Don would never have left Mariaelena without a
very good reason--a powerful one. But what was it?
Danger was in the air. He could feel it, and he had learned not to ignore
this feeling. But he had no idea where the danger came from, or what form it
would take. Or if he was even in the right place. Was he wasting his time
here, while the real black flower languished elsewhere? He shook his head,
unable to bring himself to think that staying with this young woman,
protecting her while her father was gone, could possibly be wrong--even if
it had nothing to do with his prophecy. His gaze flew up toward the sky once
more and fastened itself on Noh-Ek. "Where are you Quetzalcohuatl?" he
murmured. "Where are you when I need you?"
After a long, disappointing silence, Corazon Negro closed his eyes and tried
to sleep. But just as he was beginning to drift off he heard snuffling and a
low bark. Sitting up, he peered through the darkness into two pairs of eyes
higher than his own eye level and very close to him. The smell was unique
and unmistakable. "Romulo y Remo," he said, smiling, and immediately felt a
large rough tongue lick his face. He pushed one dog away, only to have the
second one lick his hand, then his face. He laughed softly, petting the
dogs' heads for a moment, then finally said, "Enough. We're going to rest
now. Lie down," he ordered. It took a bit of coaxing, and he had to get on
his knees and push down on the dogs' backs to get them to lie down, but they
finally settled down to sleep, noisily, next to him.
<Well, at least I have two friends here.>
Notes & translations:
Uey Tlatoani (Nahuatl): Aztec name for emperor
coitela (Galician): caution
mi querida amiga (Spanish): my dear friend
**The Sagrada Hermandad was a group created by the Catholic Kings of Spain,
inspired by the brotherhood of the Spanish citizens. The Sagrada Hermandad
participated in the Battle of Granada in Spain from 1481-1492, but it
finally disappeared in the 17th century. The same Kings founded the Spanish
Inquisition in 1478 as a means to exterminate the Marranos, Jews converted
into Christianity. Later, the powers of the Inquisition were expanded to
fight all forms of heresy in Mexico as well as in Spain.