Part 9 (1/2)

[Ill.u.s.tration: PARK IN MADRID, STATUE OF KING ALFONSO]

Alfonso replied, ”G.o.d forbid that I should approve such horrors!”

The next thing he knew, Alfonso's country was plunged into war. The rebels were to meet the King's men in conflict.

The night before the battle Alfonso, rest-less and unhappy, paced his chamber. Why must men fight? Why must they kill one another? The Prince loved power; but better than power, he loved peace.

Wherever he went, he always took along some of his books. Now upon the table lay several, and among them was ”The Odyssey.” Alfonso laid his hand upon his favorite work and was about to take it up when he let it fall again.

No, he could not read tonight. His heart was too heavy. He missed his sister and, too, he kept thinking of their future--a stormy prospect.

For Isabella no doubt would be forced to marry some distasteful n.o.ble.

And he? With enemies upon all sides, if he were not killed in war, he might well be murdered in his sleep.

Next day in full armor, his sword drawn, the boy King of Avila went out to meet his foe. Fighting bravely, by his soldiers, it is said that he was last to leave the battle.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BURGOS CATHEDRAL]

There came a time when Alfonso set forth upon a journey, accompanied by a group of n.o.bles. Among his traveling companions were several of the King's followers, one of them that same spy who had smeared poison upon the leaves of Alfonso's book.

As evening overtook the party of travelers, they drew rein in the town of Cardenosa, and planned to stop there for the night.

As usual, Alfonso had brought along his books. But too often had his enemies been disappointed, so now they planned a trick. It was a trick which would force the Prince into their cruel trap.

They removed all but one of Alfonso's books from his chamber. The one left was placed in plain view upon the table. It was ”The Odyssey.”

Wondering what had become of the others, but too weary to find out, the Prince settled himself to read before retiring for the night. As he opened the book he smiled, remembering Isabella and how she had always urged him to read something else.

Well, tonight he might do as he pleased, for he was quite alone. Tonight he might read ”The Odyssey,” which he had not opened for so long.

Page after page he turned with a finger moistened by his tongue. And an hour pa.s.sed.

Late during the night, a messenger rode madly into the town of Segovia where the Princess Isabella was living.

”The King of Avila is dying!” the messenger gasped. ”He calls for his sister, the Princess Isabella!”

Isabella rode furiously through the night and when she reached Cardenosa, she was met by the Archbishop of Toledo. He held out his hand to her, and in his face there was pity and grief. Before he even told her, Isabella knew that her beloved brother was dead.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MIRAFLORES MONASTERY, BURGOS]

Some claimed that enemies had given him poisoned fish. Others believed that he had died of a fever. Still others told the story which you have just heard. But whether or not it is true will remain a mystery forever.

There is a wonderful cathedral in Burgos, whose Gothic spires point upward like lace fingers. They point to a hill above the city, upon which rests the Miraflores Chapel.

Inside this chapel is a beautiful statue of a boy. He wears a royal mantle and kneels before a praying desk. The boy is Alfonso.

When Henry died, it was the earnest little Isabella who became queen.

Today in the Cathedral of Granada--that white and gold and silver cathedral--are the tombs of Queen Isabella and her husband, King Ferdinand.