was not accustomed to being addressed in such a tone. I knew it was dangerous to offend a woman with her husband’s influence.
I tried to swallow my temper. ‘Forgive me, Dona Ofelia, I was worried that people were saying things that were untrue.’
‘I’m sure I must have misheard and they were talking of someone else. It is nothing for you to worry about, child. Forget I even mentioned it.’
She smiled soothingly, but I knew I had ruined any chance I had of finding out more. She turned her head firmly in the direction of the altar as if she was riveted by the stumbling words of the penitents. But I couldn’t forget. She knew they had been talking about my father, but what could a man as quiet and self-effacing as he ever have done to provoke gossip? I glanced uneasily over at him, but his gaze too was fixed on the Inquisitor-General.
The public abjuration had at last drawn to a close and thick shadows stretched out their dark fingers towards the centre of the square where the penitents knelt. Over the rooftops, the sky blazed gold and purple and blood-red as the fierce sun sank from view. The notes of the choir rose into the evening air. The castrati’s high-pitched voices rang out like angel song over the square and stilled the restless crowd, sending shivers of awe up my spine. Even a few of the penitents raised their haggard faces as if they thought the light of heaven was descending upon the town.
A priest stepped forward to light the candles in the penitents’ hands as a token that they had been brought back to the light of Christ. The penitents gazed in wonder at the tiny, fragile flames which sprang up in their hands. The Inquisitor-General raised his arms, his deep voice booming out in exaltation and triumph through the unearthly soaring of the castrati’s song as he pronounced the Absolution.
Then, with a conjuror’s flourish, the Inquisitor-General swept away the black cloth, which all this while had covered the altar, to reveal the rugged green cross of the Holy Order of the Inquisition, the sign of God’s mercy, love and forgiveness. The Church had triumphed over heresy and God once more would turn the smile of His countenance upon Portugal. The crowd roared and cheered and stamped their feet as if a vision of Christ himself had appeared over the altar.
Dona Ofelia hugged me, beaming through her tears. ‘I swear even a stone would be moved by that dear man’s mercy. Isn’t he magnificent?’ she said, reaching out a trembling hand towards the Inquisitor-General as if she longed to caress his face. Then she suddenly blushed like a love-sick girl.
But the day was not yet over. There was still the little group of condemned prisoners to deal with. The king, the Regent, the Inquisitor-General and all the monks and priests processed out of the square and eventually, when the royal procession was far enough ahead, the rest of us were permitted by the soldiers to follow them in solemn procession to the huge square of Terreiro do Paço, in front of the royal palace. Dona Ofelia clung tightly to my hand lest she should lose me in the crush.
A second dais had been erected for the king and his great-uncle, but in front of it was no altar. Instead, on the far side of the square, furthest away from the palace walls, was a huge platform made from dried faggots of wood with a dozen or more posts rising up out of them.
It was dark now. Only the blazing torches on the palace walls illuminated the scene, sending snakes of red and orange flame writhing up into the indigo sky. Midges swarmed around the flames in great misty clouds and over our heads bats, drunk on moth blood, lurched in and out of the pools of light.
A twisting rope of candle flames wound down the street towards us. The candles were held in the hands of monks and the castrati who were singing a Miserere. The voices of these beautiful beardless men rose and wheeled like the flight of a merlin climbing higher into the heavens, until the very stars themselves seemed to vibrate with notes.
The crowd, restless and hungry after the interminable day, were prowling around like caged animals, and when they saw the condemned enter the square, they surged forward in a great wave, howling and shrieking in anger and disgust. It was all the soldiers