She held out her hand and he took it; then he threw himself into her arms and for a few seconds they clung together.
‘They are going to make me the heir to the throne,’ said Alfonso. ‘They are going to say the little Princess has no right to it. I wish they would leave me alone, Isabella. Why cannot they leave us in peace... myself to be as other boys, you to marry where you wish.’
‘They will never leave us in peace, Alfonso. We are not as other boys and girls. The reason is that our half-brother is the King of Castile and that many people believe the child, who is known as his daughter, is not a child of his at all. That means that we are in the direct line of succession. There are some to support Henry and his Queen... and there are others who will use us in their quarrel with the King and Queen.’
‘Isabella... let us run away. Let us go to Arevalo and join our mother there.’
‘It would be of no use. They would not let us remain there.’
‘Perhaps we could all escape into Aragon... to Ferdinand.’
Isabella considered this, imagined herself with her hysterical mother and her young brother arriving at the Court of Ferdinand’s father John. In Aragon there was a state of unrest. It might even be that John had decided to choose another bride for Ferdinand.
She shook her head slowly. ‘Our feelings, our loves and hates... they are not important, Alfonso. We must try to see ourselves... not as people... but as pieces in a game, to be moved this way and that... whichever is most beneficial to our country.’
‘If they would leave me alone and not try to force the King to make me his heir, surely that would be beneficial to the country.’
‘Terrible things are happening in Castile, Alfonso. The roads are unsafe; the people have no protection; there is much poverty. It may be that it would be beneficial if you were made King of Castile with a Regency to rule until you are of age.’
‘I do not want it, I do not want it,’ cried Alfonso. ‘I want us to be together... quietly and at peace. Oh, Isabella, what can we do? I am frightened, I tell you.’
‘We must not be frightened, Alfonso. Fear is unworthy of us.’
‘But we are no different from other people,’ cried Alfonso passionately.
‘We are. We are,’ insisted Isabella. ‘We make a mistake if we do not recognise this. It is not for us to harbour dreams of a quiet happiness. We have to face the fact that we are different.’
‘Isabella, people who are in the way of others with a wish to ascend the throne often die. Carlos, Prince of Viana, died. I have heard that was to make way for his young brother, Ferdinand.’
Isabella said slowly: ‘Ferdinand played no part in that murder... if murder there was.’
‘It was murder,’ said Alfonso. He crossed his hands on his chest. ‘Something within me tells me it was murder. Isabella, if they made me heir... if they made me King...’ He looked over his shoulder furtively; and Isabella thought of Carlos, the prisoner of his own father, feeling as Alfonso was now, looking over his shoulder as Alfonso looked, furtively, afraid of the greed and lust of men for power. ‘There was Queen Blanche too,’ went on Alfonso. ‘I wonder what she felt on her last day on Earth. I wonder what it felt like to be shut up in a castle, knowing that you have that which others want and only your death can give it to them.’
‘This is foolish talk,’ said Isabella.
‘But they are marrying you into Portugal. You will not be here to see what happens. I know they are making plans concerning me, Isabella. Oh... how I wish that I were not the son of a King. Have you ever thought, Isabella, how wonderful it must be to be the child of a simple peasant?’
‘To suffer hunger? To have to work hard for a cruel master?’
‘There is nothing so much to be feared in your life,’ said Alfonso, ‘as the knowledge that men are planning to take it from you. I think if you could ask poor Queen Blanche to confirm this, she would do so. I know, you see, Isabella. Because... I have read the thoughts in men’s eyes as they look at me. I know. They are sending you away because they fear you. I shall be left without a friend. For, Isabella, although the Archbishop tells me he loves me – and so does the Marquis of Villena – I do not trust them. You are the only one I can be sure of.’
Isabella was deeply moved.
‘Little brother,’ she said, and she seemed to draw strength and determination from Alfonso’s melancholy words. ‘I will not go to Portugal. I will find some means of avoiding this marriage.’
Alfonso, looking up at her and seeing the resolve in her face, began to believe that when Isabella made up her mind she could not be defeated.
It was when Alfonso had left her that inspiration came to Isabella.
She needed advice. She should discover whether she must inevitably accept this marriage with Portugal, or whether there was some way out of the situation.
She herself was a young girl, with little knowledge of the laws of the country, but she did suspect that the King and his adherents were endeavouring to rush her into this marriage and if this were so that they might have an ulterior reason for this haste.
She still believed that happiness for her lay in a marriage which had caught her childhood’s imagination when she had made an ideal of Ferdinand; but common sense told her that a marriage between Castile and Aragon could bring the greatest good to Spain. During the revolt in Catalonia there had been strife between Castile and Aragon; and Isabella had begun to realise that one of the reasons why the Moors still governed a great part of Spain was because of the quarrels among Spaniards.
United they might defeat the Infidel. Warring among themselves they became weakened. How much more satisfactory it would be if Spaniards united and fought the Moors instead of each other.
A marriage between Castile and Aragon then must be of the greatest advantage to Spain; and Isabella believed that if she and Ferdinand were united that would be the first step towards driving the Moors from the country. Therefore their marriage must be the one to take place.
She was certain that the Prince of Viana had met his death by Divine interference. Perhaps that had come about by way of poisoned broth or wine. But who dared question the designs of Providence? God had decided that Aragon was for Ferdinand. Had He also decided that Isabella was for Ferdinand?
God was more inclined to consider those who sought to help themselves, they being more worthy of His support than those who idly accepted whatever fate was thrust upon them.
Isabella accordingly made up her mind that she would work with all her might to evade this marriage with Alfonso V of Portugal.
She had more than her own desires to consider. Her brother Alfonso needed her. To some he might appear as the heir to the throne; to Isabella he was her frightened little brother. His father was dead; his poor unbalanced mother was shut away from the world. Who was there to care for little Alfonso but his sister Isabella?
But they were children in a Court in which conflict raged. In such a Court, thought Isabella, the difficulty is to know who are your friends, who your enemies. Whom could she trust except Beatriz? It seemed that greater wisdom came to her and she understood that the only way to be sure whose side people were on was to consider their interests and motives.
She knew that the King and Queen wished to see her leave the country. The reason was plain. They had realised that differences of opinion concerning the rights of the Queen’s baby daughter to the throne could bring the country to civil war. Therefore they wanted the little Princess’s rivals out of the way. They could not remove Alfonso yet; that would be too drastic a step. But how easy it was to marry off Isabella and so remove her in a seemly way from the sphere of action.