Page 28 of Eternal Craving

Fatigue set in. I needed a place to rest Valiente, having ridden him too far for too long. I’d pressed him – and myself – past exhaustion.

With aching limbs, I rallied the remnants of my fading strength. From a little way off, keeping a safe distance, I observed Felipe enter a well-guarded manor. Studying the windows, I wondered which room Alicia was being kept in.

I turned my weary horse and followed the tattered sign back into town. I chose the nearest tavern. They vowed to care for my horse, but it ended up being me who tended to him. I ensuredthat Valiente’s comfort, his hunger and thirst, were sated before my own.

The innkeeper’s wife escorted me to my room. Nausea welled up in me as I entered. The stale odor of the previous tenant lingered, but exhaustion forced me to stay. With a thrust, I secured the bed against the door. Despite the nasty bedding, fatigue pulled me down and I fell asleep. Nightmares and dreamscapes filled with disconnected memories and fears came and went. Carried away, impossible to escape, I cycled through each terror.

I was a boy again, standing in the pitch dark, and out of nowhere a large bull thundered toward me, gnashing its white teeth and snorting.

I sprang up.

Stifled by the lack of air, I climbed out of bed. It was impossible to judge how long I’d slept. Dust puffed off the tatty curtains as I peeked outside.

It was dark.

The tavern entertained a few locals eating supper. At a corner table, I inhaled the scent of stale bread, boiled chicken, and gulped cups of warm water. Stroking my chin that hadn’t felt a razor in two days, my thoughts drifted once more to Annabelle. Although I’d heard of the flamenco, this had been the first time I’d ever seen the exotic dance that gypsies had brought from the Mediterranean to Spaniards desirous of a rich expression of love. Annabelle’s performance had bewitched all the guests, including me. Still shaken from Felipe’s threat, though, I’d not been able to truly appreciate her.

This indulgence wasted time.

I had just enough money left to pay for my stay. Valiente greeted me with quiet relief, and I vowed to make up for all the chaos I’d brought upon him. My horse pressed his foreheadsoftly against my chest, and I took my time, whispering calm reassurances into the stillness between us.

I led him out of the stables, securing him briefly outside a local store.

Brute force ensured my entry into the tailor’s shop. Row upon row of clothes awaited my inspection. In the corner, I found what I’d come for – officers’ uniforms. After finding one that looked about my size, I stripped.

Despite my stubble, the corner mirror would have reflected a dashing army captain if the trouser legs hadn’t been two inches too short. I found another. This time, Spain’s finest stared back in the warped mirror. In the back of the store, I found what I needed to shave. I left my old clothes and withdrew.

I mounted Valiente and we headed off into the night. When we reached the stables on the senator’s estate, a lad greeted us warmly, promising to take good care of my horse.

With my heart thundering with trepidation, I dismounted and ascended the stone steps, tilting my heavily braided cap. Several passable salutes later, I strolled on into the senatorial residence.

Within the manor’s shadowed halls, I moved with quiet purpose, the silence thick around me as I searched for Alicia.

I’d spent a lifetime wondering about my sister.

I leaned up against the door,her door,and listened, marveling at the influence of a dashing officer, the uniform having gotten me in.

Minutes before, I’d found the staff’s quarters and used my affable nature to cajole the female cook into giving me information.

Wiping her powdered hands on her apron, feeling sorry for the young officer newly returned from active service, she’d told me that she’d just delivered warm milk to Senorita Alicia’s boy in the south wing. Her stern expression and lowered tone showedher disapproval. The senator was married, after all, but not to Alicia. I attempted to remain stone-faced, despite the heaviness in my chest. Felipe had fathered Alicia’s son, the scandal a closely guarded secret. Felipe had lied. He had no intention of freeing my sister.

I struggled for the right words and was unable to find them. Alicia was the only family I had left.

And I was seconds from seeing her.

With a turn of the handle, I entered her room. She lay sleeping on a large bed, her dark flowing locks spilling over white linen. Staring at her features, I noted how similar they were to mine. Her child – a one-year-old boy – slept peacefully beside her. I removed my braided jacket and flung it over the back of a corner rocking chair, then carefully sat down, trying not to make any noise.

Seeing her again stirred once buried memories.

Alicia’s look of horror when Ricardo had slapped that red cape down onto the kitchen table, or the way she clung to our mother when she thought I might win one of our fights, and the endless days we’d played by the river, both of us lost in our own imaginary worlds – sometimes crossing into each other’s.

Dusk promised to arrive at any moment. I wiped the perspiration from my brow with my sleeve.

The child stirred, causing Alicia to awaken. She swept a few stray hairs away from her face. When she noticed me, she bolted upright. “Daumia?”

I rose out of the chair. “It’s so good to see you.”

She pulled her son closer to her.