2nd of January
Granada's fall was so expected that celebrations had been planned in advance. King Boabdil knew he had no chance to defend his kingdom and negotiated with Spain a dignified surrender.
But, again, pride, the stupid pride...Boabdil, hoping to find foreign support or maybe that his luck changed, tried to resist and fought in the last minute. The camp was burnt, Isabella almost died, being her tent the ground zero of the fire, but that didn't stop the Catholics. Just like they cut the one who had slipped into her tent years before and stabbed the Duchess of Braganza, mistaking her for the Queen, and threw his remains over the walls of the city, that only served to heat their burning blood. They didn't go this far to budge an inch. The new camp was called Santa Fe, Saint Faith. From there, they directed the attacks on the nearby population, which ran to hide inside Granada. All those unexpected refugees made the siege harder, as they were more mouths to feed with a decreasing resource.
But Spain did not want to enslave and kill the whole population. He was willing to bribe important Nasrid figures with the promise of several mercies and retaining their dignity and possessions. They could even keep praying to Allah—for the moment. Boabdil would be given the State of Alpujarras. Gonzalo Fernández de Córdoba, an old supporter of the Queen, a conqueror and a spy, who Spain called El Gran Capitán—The Great Captain—, gave him very good advice in breaking Boabdil's reticence. After so long, at the start of the new year Spain finally walked into Granada.
The six hundred people, children of Nasrid important people, gathered up as a collateral of the compliance of the treaty, were already waiting, fearful, even though Spain did not intend to really keep them as slaves and planned to free them soon, if Boabdil didn't try anything this time.
There he was, the last of the saga. Spain approached and bowed his head gently. Boabdil genuflected before him and handed him the keys of the city without saying a word, avoiding to merely look at him to the face. Spain thought he was trying to hide tears in his face.
"Cry like a woman what you couldn't defend like a man!"
Did somebody say that or were those his own thoughts? Just a few centuries and he wouldn't be sure, but Spain would repeat those words to his friends and whoever was willing to listen to his adventures, because it portrayed pretty well the dishonor of the Moors, their defeat.
All the Christian world celebrated this accomplishment. The Pope himself made all churches ring their bells to celebrate the victory of the true faith, and would give mass in Santiago soon.
The symbol of Granada was added to Spain's flag.
1st of July
Now that Granada was taken care of, there was nothing that kept him at home, so he was free to see the world.
Ferdinand was not very much convinced about Columbus' plan, but Isabella had a hunch and made Castile finance and support the project. If it turned out he was right, they had so much to win...In April, a deal was signed, giving the Genoese all the titles and percentage of the benefits he asked for—if they found something. Many people, like Ferdinand, thought this was just an amusement trip.
It was hard for Columbus to find the sailors he needed. Spain had to use his influence to find people who trusted this unknown man, whose experience and reputation were more than doubtful. He recruited the Pinzón brothers, whose travels around the Mediterranean sea and the Atlantic ocean had given them fortune and fame. Due to a punishment pending to be applied to the coastal city of Palos de la Frontera, two caravels Pinta and Niña were added to the leading ship, the Santa María.
Everything was ready for the depart and Spain was so excited he thought he was going to explode.
Just one issue kept his feet on the ground and spoiled all the happiness a little bit—a very unpleasant matter. Unpleasant but necessary.
Spain re-read the parchment before sinking the quill on the inkwell and signing.
«We were informed that in our kingdoms were some bad Christians who judaized and apostatized of our saint Catholic faith, which was caused by much communication of the Jewish with the Christians. In 1480 we ordered to put all the Jewish in our cities and in all places in our kingdom apart, in Jewish quarters and out of the way...Thus, we, with the advice and opinion of some prelates and grandees and lords of our kingdoms and other people of science and conscience in our Council, we have agreed to order all the Jewish men and women out and never to return, until the end of the month of July. All of them, big and small of whatever age. And they should not dare to return under penalty of death and confiscation of all of their possessions»
3rd of August
The sailors were already embarking, rolling the barrels in, carrying bundles. Spain was also ready to go, but first he had to say goodbye.
Little Isabella, now a beautiful twenty-two year-old, was already a widow, after Afonso, heir of the throne of Portugal, died after a riding accident the previous year. Spain saw her tear up a bit and it hurt his heart.
"Don't go, please. Don't risk your life like this; the sea is very dangerous. What do you intend to find?" She sobbed.
"It's in my blood, darling. It's what I'm supposed to do: find new places, increase my lands, find a way to prosper..." Spain told her, wiping her tears with his index finger. "Fear not. I will be fine."
Isabella hugged him and kissed his cheeks.
"I'll pray for you..."
Spain knew she would. And since she was so devout, underwent so much penitence after her husband's death, he knew God would listen to her, and it made him feel safer.
The other girls were much more calm about this. Joanna—thirteen— kissed his forehead and wished him good luck into his ear.
"Will you bring me a nice fan from Cipango?" María—ten—asked.
"Sure, love. The prettiest I find."
Catherine—seven—kissed his cheeks again and again, like she didn't want him to leave. John, the heir of the kingdoms, a gentle, frail and sickly fourteen-year-old man, had his mother's hand on his shoulder.
"Our Spain is going to explore the world and he's not afraid. Take his example, my son. Never be afraid."
Spain hugged the prince and turned to the Queen and held her tightly for long.
"It's only 700 leagues. I'll be back soon."
"We will be waiting for you."
"Have a good trip, my son." Ferdinand said, and caressed his cheek with a thumb.
There was only one left, not the least important. Spain crouched down to be at Romano's level.
"I made sure that you'll be well taken care of until my return. Be good."
"Screw you. Don't come back." The little nation replied.
Spain chuckled and ruffled his hair nevertheless, to which Romano protested.
It was time to go, he could not delay any more. He walked the gangway and waved the family a last goodbye, as the Santa María, followed by the Pinta and the Niña, departed off to Asia.
"Lord brings us luck in our trip. Protect us all..." Spain muttered, making the sign of the cross as his home became a smaller and smaller spot in the horizon.
6th of September
They stopped at the recently conquered island of La Gomera for provisions; the Pinta also needed some important repairs. Spain could move around and chat with the sailors. The officers did not like that he mingled with the lowlifes; some of them, everyone knew, were former prisoners, people of very questionable ilk, murderers, thieves, they were forced to recruit to complete their numbers. But Spain did not care. It was Christian to forgive past sins. They were his people too. Sometimes they were even more trustworthy than all those greedy noblemen.
"Do you think we can trust that Columbus man, Your Greatness?" Physician Maestre Alonso, boarded in the Niña, asked him in private.
"Sure. Crazy people often achieve crazily big things." Spain replied. "Don't you?"
"If you trust him, we do. But I think he's just a braggart."
"We'll see." Spain shrugged it off. That was all he had to say about the matter. He really trusted Columbus.
16th of September
Rodrigo de Escobedo, scribe of this adventure, walked to Spain while he was gazing at the sea, admiring how wide it was, the marvels it hid.
"I have seen lots of seaweed and some weird-looking birds. Perhaps..." Spain didn't finish the sentence.
Escobedo didn't seem much convinced. Spain then turned to watch Columbus, who was standing by the helm, scanning the horizon, studying the direction of the wind.
He sure knew what he was doing...
1st of October
...Or maybe not...
The voyage was taking too long...There was not even a tiny patch of land to stop and stock up. The food was starting to rot and they had nothing to replace it, unless they tried to fish something. The smell was so horrible that they had to sleep out of the cabins, out in the open. Some of the sailors and subofficers got sick and died, the crew had to throw their corpses at sea not to spread the illness.
But they could do nothing but continue.
6th of October
Spain woke up that morning with the sound of yelling from the deck.
"What's going on?" He asked a sailor.
He just pointed at Ruy García, one of the sailors, and Columbus.
"I've been at sea more than you have!" The sailor was saying to the Admiral.
"What is going on?" Spain approached quickly, fearing fists would start flying.
"Nothing, Your Greatness. It's all under control." Martín Alonso Pinzón, captain of the Pinta, had hopped onboard to handle the situation personally. He stepped forward and addressed the sailor. "You will do what your captain says, and keep your mouth shut!"
"He doesn't even know where we are or where we are going! We should have reach Cipango's land by now, and here we are, in the middle of nowhere! There's nothing here!" The sailor complained.
"Yeah!" Some others agreed.
"Shut up or I'll hang all of you!" Pinzón turned against them.
"No one's going to hang nobody." Spain intervened.
"Your Greatness, we agree with Mr. Pinzón about turning to the southwest. We are just following his own map, but Mr. Columbus here doesn't agree. If he takes us into the wrong direction, we are all doomed!" García said in a much more restrained, respectful way.
"Alright, everybody calm down." Spain said to all of them. "I really don't want to get any of you disciplined. Go back to your work."
The crew slowly, mumbling, went back to their chores. Spain approached Pinzón.
"Do you really think it's a good idea?"
"Yes, but it is not my place to decide anything. Mr. Columbus is the supreme lead...And you, too." Pinzón replied.
Spain glanced at Columbus then.
"I suggest you to listen to Mr. Pinzón. He is really good at what he does."
"...We will see, Your Greatness." Columbus replied, avoiding to look at him, like thinking hard.
"See? He dares to say our nation 'we will see'..." Someone complained out loud.
Spain really wished his intervention had changed anything, but he had reasons to be worried. The possibility of a mutiny increased every second. Everyone was tired, hopeless, angry.
Did he do right, getting them into this, spending millions of maravedis?
But he had seen vegetation and birds those days...
12th of October
Spain did not calculate the time but he would never forget that it happened some time around noon. The cry from the Pinta startled everyone. Rodrigo de Triana filled his lungs to cry so the three ships could hear him:
"LAND AHOY!"
Everyone rushed to the deck to watch the shades of brown and green in all that blue background. A cheer filled the air.
1493
Portugal was alerted about an unauthorized disembark at the Azores. Apparently, the caravel was Spanish, and the crew had had to stop in his island because of a storm. Portugal did not pay much attention to the matter, knowing that the Spanish were not enemies of his and ordered to let them go and continue their travel.
It was not much of a surprise to him that another storm forced them to finish it in Lisbon, because at that time of the year the weather was awful. What did surprise him was the news a messenger brought, that a man he barely remembered, named Christopher Columbus, and Spain himself were in that ship and wanted to see him immediately.
Portugal rushed to meet his old friend at the port—Spain didn't allow him to speak, but pounced on him to squeeze him in his arms. He started speaking so quickly he could barely understand him. He made so many wild gesticulations to tell him a story of islands in Asia, something about tribes which had never seen a white man before; ran away for a second to return with woolen clothes and a mask of gold, which he practically rubbed into Portugal's face. His eyes were out of their orbits as he spoke like he didn't need air. Portugal couldn't understand but very few things, but Spain didn't allow him to ask. In the end, Spain grabbed his wrist and made him run to palace. He wanted to return to his house soon, but first he wanted to tell his king about the whole thing.