the beauty of her soul. Her reddish-blond hair that framed her face only served to enhance her indisputable charm and beauty. However, he remembered when he was introduced to his bride-to-be by Sir Charles on the day of her arrival how shocked he was that such a beautiful mature-looking creature was only twelve years old, a mere child. He was twenty-one.
But notwithstanding, within weeks of her arrival, Don Fernando and Lady Margaret were married at La Catedral de Santa María de las Montañas in the city of Segoia, followed by a banquet that lasted several days and a tournament where the dashing young Don Fernando displayed his prowess. Don Fernando smiled as he remembered Lady Margaret’s infectious laughter when he lost one joust and was dragged by his horse on his seat out of the tournament.
Even though it was love at first sight, it was decided, due to her age, that they wait a couple of years before consummation of their marriage. During this time, Lady Margaret enjoyed the companionship of what she called her dashing young warrior. Her older sister, Queen Leonor, enjoyed her company immensely, as she was intelligent and quite engaging in conversation. Often, they would be joined by Doña Juana Mendoza, a good and trusted friend of the queen.
Lady Margaret enjoyed her new exotic life in Castile but did miss the cool summer breezes of home and especially her horse, Gelder, which was not allowed to make the trip, as Lady Margaret was given her own mount. Treated royally by Don Fernando, her life was easy. However, Lady Margaret did enjoy staying busy and was often seen in the vineyard helping her husband with the annual harvest. Also, she performed flawlessly in fulfilling her other duties as condesa.
In late January 1183, Lady Margaret became pregnant and voiced her fear to her sister, Queen Leonor, and Doña Juana Mendoza, a good friend, of a premonition that she would not survive childbirth and would succumb in the ordeal. Both women thought her fears were utter nonsense, but Lady Margaret was adamant and made sure that her husband was not aware of her fear.
Suddenly, Don Fernando was interrupted from his deep thoughts and grief by a voice that startled him. He slowly put down the necklace, raised his head, and languidly laid eyes on a figure of a man dressed in black. It was Don Raimundo Ortega Díaz, the Conde de Donato, a neighboring condado bordering the Condado of Segoia. Don Fernando had not heard him enter the anteroom to the great hall.
The relationship between the two condes had been strained for some time due to a land dispute. The land in question included several thousand acres—or to be precise, twenty-five square miles—and a castle that Don Raimundo seized and claimed as his own. Apparently, the claim was based on a past document that was dated several hundred years before and conveniently discovered in a wall of his palace during a renovation. Don Fernando believed the document to be a fraud, but Don Raimundo always had a knack for protecting his own interests, fraudulent or not.
Don Fernando did not go to war with Don Raimundo over the land in question due to the fragile relationship that existed between the nobles in the kingdom, which could have led to an all-out civil war to the benefit of the Moors. In order to keep the peace among his high-ranking and most trusted nobles, King Alfonso made Don Raimundo pay what amounted to be a token payment for the land, which was only a fraction of the true value of the rich farmland that was seized.
It should be noted that Don Raimundo had the love of the king due to his prowess in having helped the young teen defeat his enemies who vied for the kingdom after King Sancho’s death and thus helping him claim the throne. As a result, King Alfonso, due to the proven loyalty of his good friend, was blind to his sometimes treacherous behavior. It also had been rumored that Don Raimundo poisoned his own brother to inherit the Condado de Donato, and he married his sister to a nobleman so far in the north of Germany that it would take a lifetime for her to find her way back home.
Don Fernando, still seated at his worktable on the dais, appeared across the table with a face full of anger.
“What do you want, Raimundo?” asked Don Fernando abruptly.
“I came to simply offer my condolences on the loss of your wife. I happened to be in Segoia on business and at the tavern nearest the palace when a servant burst in and stated loudly that the condesa had died in childbirth. Since I had concluded my business, I decided to come directly here,” he exclaimed, with his dark piercing eyes showing little emotion.
Don Fernando rose from his seat and, with his hands rested on the table, bent over and gave his guest a choleric look.
“No reason to look at me in such a harsh manner, señor. I came as a matter of courtesy to pay my respects.”
“Respect?” responded Don Fernando. “Do you really expect me to believe that you have respect or care for anything else besides your own self-aggrandizement?”
Don Raimundo raised his eyebrows, turned, and started to walk away, irritated by Don Fernando’s remarks. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, turned, and faced Don Fernando. “I came here in good faith to pay my respects to a young woman for whom I had the deepest respect and admiration for both her loveliness and her pleasing temperament, not to be chided like some small child.”
As Don Raimundo turned away again, he heard Don Fernando shout loudly, “And why weren’t you at La Mancha? The king could have used you to control the right flank, and maybe Don José would still be alive.”
“I shall overlook your remarks, Don Fernando, due to your loss. However, they do sound like some type of accusation that I find both insulting and troubling. I merely came to hold out my hand in the spirit of sympathy and compassion, but since you have decided to bite it off, it is time for me to leave. Good day, señor,” said an agitated Don Raimundo, who opened the door and left.
Don Fernando sat down at his desk and poured a cup of wine. Queen Leonor entered the room.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Fernando.”
“Not in the least, Your Highness,” replied Don Fernando as he rose from his chair and left the dais to greet the queen.
At twenty-one years of age, the daughter of King Henry II of England was as beautiful as she was charming. He could not help but gaze upon her regal yet enticing face framed by a white wimple. Her white bliaut featured a low neckline, the sleeves, the hem, the belt, a scarlet background emblazoned with yellow lions, the heraldic emblem of her family.
Was this the same twelve-year-old princess who had come to marry his king to cement an alliance between England and Castile and was homesick in being in a foreign land with its different customs? She had truly grown into her role as queen, thought Don Fernando.
“I was just greeted by that sinister-looking Don Raimundo, who appeared to be in a hurry to leave the palace. Be careful, Fernando. I don’t trust him despite the fact that my husband holds him in such a high regard.”
“Believe me, I neither trust nor hold him in any regard. He is simply an opportunist with a despicable nature,” said Don Fernando, who had turned to pour a silver cup of wine for his guest.
Don Fernando handed the cup to Queen Leonor. “Here, drink this, Your Highness. It is Segoia’s best and will cure any ills.”
“Except a broken heart. Nothing can cure that, except time itself, I’m afraid,” said the queen as she carefully sipped the wine.
“You look tired, Your Highness. Why don’t you rest here in the palace before returning to Burgos?”
Queen Leonor’s eyes were red and swollen, and tears ran down her cheeks as she thought about her sister, who would be unknown in history due to the circumstances of her birth, yet known to her real family, many of whom she had had never met.
“Oh, I am so angry at my mother and saddened that she hated my sister so much as to give her away. People are not objects that you can give away like a necklace or a gold coin,” cried the queen, wiping her eyes with a piece of linen.
“But she did have a happy childhood. She told me many times,” said Don Fernando as he reached over to take the cup from the queen.
“Well, that’s a godsend for sure,” said the queen with a slight smile.
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