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soon grew drowsy in the heat of the day and fell asleep. He was roused by some one kicking his feet violently. Opening his eyes for a moment he was not sure where he was or what was going on. A tall Spaniard stood over him “Up heretic” said the man kicking Samuel in the face. Stumbling to his feet he was quickly bound by some of the soldiers who were standing a round. Once he was bound, they began drinking water from the near by stream which trickled happily through the mountains.

”So you thought you would escape from Padre Tomas” said the captain of the guard “you made a mistake my friend.” “I am no dammed heretic” said Samuel. One of the soldiers punched him in the face. “Silence heretic” shouted the man who had hit him. They tied him with a long rope to the back of a donkey and set off back to Servillia. The trip back was not going to be as enjoyable as the trip from the city.

Samuel lay in the cell. The sound of dripping water rang loud in his ears. Some where in the vast dungeon of the castle, some one screamed a long drawn out agonizing scream full of pain and fear. Samuel did not move too much. He hurt; the soles of his feet were full of blisters from the latest torture. At first the priest had been gentle asking him questions, probing his answers trying to catch him out in a lie.

As the days passed, the questioning had become angrier. After the third day, the priest had turned to one of the men who stood in the corner of the room. He smiled a thin cruel smile and nodded at the man, a fat man well fed who hurried forward Padre. “Continue” was all the tall priest had said.

The fat man had seized Samuel and strapped him to a table. Speaking quickly to one of his two assistants, the fat man instructed them to bring the water pitcher. A rough cloth was placed over Samuel’s face, covering his mouth and nose. The cloth was drawn tightly across, making it difficult to breathe. As Samuel struggled to breathe, the cloth was sucked into his mouth. Someone poured the water into his mouth forcing the cloth deeper into his mouth as the water ran through the cloth and into his throat. Suddenly the cloth was pulled from his throat tearing the lining from Samuel’s throat. The pain was excruciating. He tried to scream but this hurt even more then staying quiet. “Confess” said the man “and the pain will stop” said his torturer. But Samuel remained silent. After all he had nothing to confess. He had been sickened by the priest’s proposal and had fled; now the priest was getting his revenge. Maybe it had been wrong to flee, it could have given the priest the wrong impression, but Samuel was not sure the inquisition could have been watching the inn for a long time before he had been approached. Why was he suffering like this because a haughty Spanish nobleman had frequented his inn?
The cloth had been reapplied and the torture continued. When his torturers had grown tired of the water trick they had applied hot irons to his feet causing him to scream in pain, but still he had nothing to confess. Finally the day had come when they stripped him of his clothes. The sign of his origin displayed, there was no more question, only torture now. He was being tortured for being a secret Jew. Of this, they knew he was guilty. For a few days they left him to recover. Human nature had taught him that this was not the end of the torture, only a brief respite from the horror of the torture chamber. The priest came to see him, now friendly that he had been discovered “Jew tell me how many of your kind do you know who live in our kingdom?” he asked. Samuel looked up at the priest and slowly replied “None. I have not been a Jew for many years and I don’t know of any Jews in the kingdom.” “Lies!” shouted the priest growing angry. “You Jews always lie! That is why you are outcasts! The Holy Father has offered you the chance to redeem yourself, yet you remain stubborn in your disbelief. “You are truly the children of Satan” the fire of fervent religious zeal burning in the priest’s eyes.

The priest left and the torture began again the next day. Now it was as if they were trying everything to get him to confess. “Give us the names Jew! Give us the names!” this phrase was to be repeated again and again after each fresh torture. But Samuel could give no names.

Finally one day he was told “Jew tomorrow you will burn for your heresy.” The priest came once more and said not without kindness “I gave you every opportunity to confess but you refused, why?” To this Samuel croaked in a broken voice “because I have nothing to confess to.”
”Confess now Jew. Give us names and I will have the executioner strangle you before the flames reach you.” Samuel shook his head sadly, the realization that this priest would never understand what he was asking for.

The following morning before the sun was up Samuel was awakened and handed some clothes to wear. Limping badly, he was led from the cell which had long been his home. He felt no sadness at leaving it. He had faced death before, this would be no different he reasoned.

As Samuel was led through the street, along with a small group of others who were to be executed, he heard the insults that were hurled at them. He felt the rotten vegetables and eggs which were thrown at him but it did not worry him.

On the square the first three people who were to die that day were led to the scaffold, because they had confessed they were quickly strangled. The fires lit which burned brightly the crowds were in a holiday mood watching as the day’s entertainment continued. When it was Samuel’s turn, he climbed to the stake, the executioner taking the taper from him. A priest came forward and once more asked him to confess. Samuel said nothing, sadly the priest turned away. Looking out into the crowed Samuel thought he saw the face of Maria but he was not sure.

The executioner set the fire. The wood was dry and quickly caught fire, the smoke rising in to the bright blue sky. At first Samuel thought that dying would not be so bad. He would always be able to start life a new when his body was resurrected. However as the fire burned the heat began to hurt, drawing out the moisture from his flesh when the fire finally reached him it really hurt. “The agony!” he screamed. He wondered how Don Pedro could have stood the fire with out screaming. He looked out into the crowd and saw Maria. She was weeping. His feet and legs were now catching fire, the pain was terrible. His skin blackened and blistered from the heat. The fire gave a huge surge and he was consumed, his whole body was now ablaze. “The agony!” he tried to scream but was unable. His lips were burnt off in a matter of moments. His eyes boiled in his head. It felt like his brain was on fire. His heart burst from the heat. He thought of Maria, poor Maria. “I hope she finds a good husband” this was his final thought before he died.


CHAPTER TWELVE
England 1534

Samuel opened his eyes. It was a foggy morning in the glade with thick fog rolling in from the sea. He was thankful for this. His recent experience in Servilla was still etched vividly in his memory; even the thought of his life in Seville brought a certain amount of pain. Rising, he moved quickly towards the bend in the river where the fishing boats were pulled up on the shore. The crews of the boats were already getting started. Samuel joined the nearest crew and started working. He had decided that for a while at least, he would try some thing other then inn keeping. England in the year 1534 was a land in religious turmoil due to the King wanting a new wife. Samuel had, had enough of religion and inn keeping, for a while he wanted to get out and explore the world. He had never been in England before; it was a wet and green country, something which he had never experienced before. He had lived in many places but never a place as green and wet as England.

A small lad was coming round handing each of the fishermen a loaf of bread for breakfast these people seemed to eat such simple food. Samuel wondered how they survived on their bland diet of bread, beer and fish. Sometimes there was beef or mutton, but in general, these fisher folk ate fish, baked fish pie, fish salted and lots of bread. Foods from the New World, which had been plentiful in Spain, were unknown here in England. This saddened Samuel, as the foods of the New World tended to spice up a dish. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the foods of the west arrived in England. In the mean time he would eat their bland foods, after all one must eat to live.

As the mists began to lift, the fishing fleet moved out in to the wide bay. Whole crews rowed the boats out into the channel in search of fish. The sails of the boats hung limp with hardly a breeze to stir the sails.

After rowing for an hour they stopped, drank some ale and baited up their hooks and cast their long lines into the dark water. Talking softly among themselves of local gossip and the state of life in general, the men tended to stick to small groupings. The boat held sixteen men. It was not uncommon for the crew to be divided into smaller groups working and talking together. At first Samuel had listened learning from those around him of life in the kingdom of England. The King Henry VIII had recently divorced his wife of many years in favor of the Lady Ann Howard, this after a break with the Church of Rome. Pope Clement VII had excommunicated Hearty Hal as the fishermen called him for setting aside the most devout of queens for a lady in waiting of the house of Howard.

Things in the church in England had not been going well lately since Hearty Hal had come to the throne. There had been a number of changes. Monasteries had been closed and priests turned out to find honest employment. A number of priests had died as a result of resistance to the changes. A few who were too old and infirm had also died, spending their last days in barns or in hedge rows. In general, however, things had come about without too much difficulty. The land of the church had been reclaimed by the King and parceled out to land hungry Nobles who were now building their new great houses on the former church lands. The dissolution of the monasteries had another effect that did not bode well for the country. At first the villages had been kindly disposed to the monks, but as time went on the attitude had changed. The monks refused to work and as a result the villages were less disposed to help them with food and
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