My first romance, The Truth Never Dies, had been released for only a few weeks when I
arrived in Miami for my holidays. I was still feeling extremely excited and
happy for having been able to launch the book in Europe and in the USA. I
experienced that sort of feeling of accomplishment which takes over and makes
us feel like a small kid again.
I remember when I was on the line at the immigration
border at Miami International Airport, waiting to be seen by an immigration
officer, a man in front of me started to talk. Like me, he was coming from
England. He told me he had a finance job and as a hobby he played guitar and
composed songs. According to him, every time he needed some inspiration he went
to Miami, which he regarded as a well of inspiration and creativity. Right
there, standing in that line, feeling half asleep, I looked at that man and
thought, “Maybe it’s time to be inspired again and write my second novel.”
On the following day I was sitting by the pool when
friends back in England began to text my cell phone. They were sending me the
news that The Truth Never Dies had
reached number one on the Amazon US best sellers list. I could not believe it.
I got hold of my tablet and checked on the internet. It was true. My first ever
romance had been read by thousands of people in America. I immediately knelt
down, closed my eyes and thanked God for that blessing. At the same time I said,
“God, if it is your wish for me to write another novel then please help me with
the inspiration.”
Well, I couldn’t have received a better and stronger
answer from God. On that night while I was in bed I went back in time. More
precisely, back to the fifteenth century. I saw two women riding horses. They
were running away from something or someone. I could feel their apprehension.
Soon I saw men riding horses, galloping through a field. It didn’t take long before
they captured the two women who were fleeing. I saw those men capture them and
torture them in the same horrific way as I describe in this book.
When the vision faded away I was sitting on my bed.
I had sweat running down my entire body. I felt those two women’s despair and
fear. I could smell the breeze of that night in the woods back in the fifteenth
century. It was the inspiration I had earlier asked God for. During that
holiday week in Miami I remember seeing horses everywhere. I saw horses in
advertisement pictures in magazines. I saw horses as part of decorations in
stores and in people’s T-shirt prints. By the end of that week in Miami I had
no doubt. I had to write about the story of those two ladies.
The Prologue
The Kingdom
of Navarre, the successor of the Kingdom
of Pamplona, was a European medieval kingdom which occupied lands on
either side of the Pyrenees, alongside the Atlantic Ocean between present-day
Spain and France.
Navarre Kingdom. Winter, early years of the fifteenth century.
On a cold night, two women were riding horses. They were running away. Both
ladies had long, dark hair and looked very similar apart from the noticeable
age difference, as one appeared to be more mature than the other. Both were
dressed in long gowns. They rode very fast, and were now a few miles away from
the bridge that linked the village to France and headed towards the forest. The
cold November night was very dark. Once they reached the interior of the forest,
the young lady who was leading the way shouted to her horse.
“Go Asas, go!” she said, stroking the horse at the
same time as urging him to go faster. Her hair was flying with the wind and her
face was full of braveness and determination. She checked the other lady, who
was not far behind, to ensure she was keeping up, and continued riding fast
through the forest.
Suddenly noises of horses approaching could be
heard. Far behind, torches could be seen amongst the trees. The young lady
continued to stroke her horse and prayed in silence, hoping for a successful
escape. She pulled the necklace of her gown and, getting hold of the pendant
with the image of the Virgin Mary, she took it up to her lips and kissed it. ‘Oh Virgin Mary, I don’t care what happens
to my life but please look after my mother. She doesn’t deserve anything bad to
happen to her. I beg for your protection,’ she prayed in silence. Suddenly
her prayer was interrupted by the loud noise of men approaching on their
horses.
“I can hear them getting close to us!” shouted the older
lady. “They are going to catch us!” She made her horse stop and stayed still.
“What are you doing? They are coming! We need to go
faster, otherwise they’ll catch us!” said the young lady, stopping her own horse
so that it faced her mother’s. She made a sign with her head and said, “Come on
Mama, let’s run.”
“No. I am not going anywhere. I can still save you.
You go. Run, my daughter, run!”
“What are you saying? I’m not going anywhere
without you, Mama. Come on, let’s go.”
“If I stay they will catch me and that will give
you time to escape.”
Suddenly the noise of horses and men approaching became
louder. They were swearing loudly at the two women, saying things such as “You’ll
regret running away, you witches.”
“We don’t stand a chance, daughter. Their horses
are much faster and they will end up catching us. I will stay and surrender. Go
and get out of here. Go to France and find my sisters. There you will be safe,”
said the older lady with tears in her eyes. “Go, you are young and still have a
chance to escape this curse. Don’t worry about me.”
But before Carmen could say anything they found
themselves surrounded by the men, who were holding lances and torches. They all
had long golden chains with crucifixes around their necks.
“We’ve got you,” said one of the men. Pointing his
spear at them, he ordered, “Get down off your horses now!”
Six other men approached the two ladies and dragged
them down from their horses. Two of them took hold of the ladies and tied their
hands with extreme force. They dragged them both away from their horses and
laughed with bitter sarcasm. One of the men took his crucifix and kissed it
before slapping the young lady in the face.
“We are not Jewish, neither are we witches. Please
let us go,” begged the young lady’s mother, “Please!”
“There’s no salvation for you two. You are both going
to the stake!” replied the man.
“Now you two, watch what we are going to do with
your horses,” said the leader, who was still mounted on his own steed, pointing
his spear at the ladies’ horses with evil in his eyes.
Both the animals got agitated, as if they were
feeling the evil energy directed at them. Four men moved closer to the horses
and, holding their long swords, they waited for more instructions.
“Please don’t do anything to our horses. Let them
go,” begged the young lady. “I beg you, leave the horses in peace.”
The leader of the band replied, holding his
crucifix, “They carry the same evil as you do. They are bewitched and we must
kill them as we are going to kill you.” He laughed loudly, lifted his spear up
in the air and ordered, “Fellows, in the name of the father, the son and the
holy ghost, I command you to kill the bewitched animals which have been serving
Lucifer!”
The young lady tried to reach for the horses but
she was immediately pushed away by one of the men, and fell on the grass. She
was followed by her mother who had been pushed by the same man.
The four men lifted their long swords and, with
extreme violence, they struck the legs of the mother’s horse, who gave out a
deafening shriek of pain and fell flat on the ground in agony. Both daughter
and mother were horrified. The men smiled, watching the horse writhing in
torment on the ground, and made a joke out of the young lady’s horse, who had
become agitated with panic.
“Don’t worry, big boy, you’ll soon be joining your
friend in hell,” said one of the men holding the swords.
The four men lifted their swords again, this time
to hit the young lady’s horse, Asas. She screamed while watching the men strike
the animal’s legs. Asas fell on top of the other horse and both of them cried,
making horrifyingly loud noises which could be heard from miles away. The agonised
creatures were squirming and hitting each other’s heads while their blood formed
a pool on the ground.
“Asas!” she shouted in horror. “My boy…Oh my boy!” she
screamed, looking at the inquisitors with tears rolling down her face. “You are
not human, you are monsters. You are not serving God but your corrupted church.”
The men were positioning themselves to hit the
animals in order to finally kill them but were stopped by their leader.
“No! Don’t use your swords.” He looked at both
women and gave them a cynical smile. Using a very cold tone of voice he told
the men, “We will burn them alive!”
The men went around collecting trunks and tree
branches and surrounded the horses with piles of wood in order to create a
bonfire. The ladies were crying loudly and the animals screeching in agony.
Within minutes the men had put trunks and wood around the horses and set them
on fire. The leader said, with pleasure in his voice, “Watch your animals
burning and feel their pain and their agony. It’s a very slow death and it’s
exactly the same death you two will soon face.”
