If you would like more information on the Auto-De-Fe' mentioned in this chapter, there is a summary at the bottom.

Lovino had been drifting in and out of sleep for a few minutes now, his body unsure if he was ready to wake up yet. He opened his eyes hesitantly. This wasn't his bedroom. He looked around the bakery, his memory flooding back to him. Antonio had been there. And he was gone now.

"Bastard. He said he would stay," Lovino said. He couldn't help but be a little bitter, even when he noticed a thin piece of parchment on the table. It read:

Lovi, I had to leave once the sun rose. I'm very busy today. I hope to see you soon!

~Antonio F. Carriedo

Lovino sneered and stuffed the note in his pocket. Whatever. He rubbed his head and looked out the window. The sun was shining brightly. He was supposed to be working early, but it didn't matter now. It was too late. He wondered why Grandpa Roma wasn't up by now. Or Feliciano. As if on cue, the door connecting the bakery to the house swung open and both Grandpa Roma and Feliciano popped out. Grandpa Roma had tears in his eyes for some odd reason. He grabbed Lovino's collar and pulled him in, squeezing him a little too tightly.

"Oh, Lovi. I was so worried. I didn't find you in your bed. I thought they had taken you, figlio. I've never been so relieved in my life."

Lovino just stood there, listening carefully to his grandfathers words. He thought he had been taken in by the Inquisition? He immediately felt bad for leaving the house. He didn't want to cause his family any more troubles than he already did, and it broke his heart to see his brother nearly in tears. Feliciano embraced him, also squeezing a little too tightly, just like Grandpa Roma.

"I'm fine. I just couldn't deal with Feliciano's constant rambling. So I figured I'd hang out in here for a little while. I'm sorry for worrying you, Grandpa Roma," Lovino said. He really did feel awful for making them feel that way. There had to be some way to make it up to them.

"Grandpa Roma, I saw that we were almost out of cinnamon and eggs. I could go in and get it all for you to make up for the worry I've caused you. It's no problem. I'll be quick." Lovino knew the market made Grandpa Roma nervous. And the idea of Feliciano going was even worse. Before his grandfather could answer, Lovino ran upstairs to his room to dress.

.

The market was busier than he'd ever seen it today. There were people constantly shoving and pulling, yelling and muttering about something. He looked for the eggs. He had the cinnamon. It was always easy to find. But the eggs were always sort of tricky for some reason. He typically bought them from a Jewish woman who always wore a vibrant yellow scarf that could be easily spotted through a crowd. Her name was Elizabeth Tonqueda, if he was remembering right. She and her husband had come over a few times to celebrate passover. But she was not to be seen today. Lovino gulped and let his shoulders slump. Something seemed off today. He hoped it was just in his head.

As he was about to turn around and go back home, Lovino noticed the crowd swelling. He looked around in confusion. Was there supposed to be a festival today? He began to walk towards his home, which he guessed was about fifteen minutes away on feet. But more people were flooding the already packed street, and as hard as he tried to resist the mass of people, he wasn't strong enough, and was pushed in the direction they were headed. He looked around, his heart pounding out of his chest.

"We're a little late, but we didn't miss the good parts!" Lovino turned around and looked up at the man who had said the sentence. "Late for what?" He managed to say. The older man smiled a confused smile and crossed his arms. "The Auto-De-Fe' is today. Have you really never seen one? That's weird. But I guess you may not have been allowed to go. And you look like a servant. Are you a servant, niño?" Lovino gulped and nodded frantically. He had heard of the Autos, and at that moment, he was whatever the crowd wanted him to be. He just wasn't Jewish. The man laughed and clasped onto Lovino's shoulder, pushing him into the center of the crowd.

He had prayed that he'd never have to attend an Auto. He thought that even if he had attended one, he would have done it under far different circumstances.

The crowd finally came to a stop. Before him was a large wooden platform with rows of flags fluttering above it. To the right of the platform was a large, white cross. In the very center of the platform were two large stacks of firewood and straw, each with a long stake sticking out. Lovino shuddered, hoping this would be over soon.

.

The turnout was very impressive this time. Never had Antonio seen such a large crowd at an Auto. There must have been two-thousand people in the crowd. But Barcelona was a large city, after all. Antonio heard yelling to his right, which could only mean one thing. The prisoners had arrived. Antonio leaned against one of the beams supporting the platform and watched as two Jews, a man and a woman, were pushed through the crowd by the friars and Inquisitors. Antonio was merely an aide, and was thankful that he didn't have to help with the Autos. But he had spoken against the two Jews shown today.

He remembered them well. They were a couple of farmers who he'd spent time with. He had pretended to need a job. They'd hired him. And through the close relation, he gained evidence that they were, in fact, Jews. The woman had been kind, but nagged often, and the man had been quiet and stern, though understanding. As they came closer, Antonio looked down. But it did very little for him. He stared at a spot on the ground and only looked up when a splotch of spit fell upon it. He was used to getting spat at. He looked up to see the woman standing in front of him, saliva still sticking to her bottom lip. Her eyes were cold and unforgiving. He refrained from looking into them.

The woman was immediately gagged and forced up the steps. Antonio's eye twitched, but besides that, he had no outward reaction. But on the inside, he felt as if he might fall apart.

If that would have been Lovino, he would have been crushed. His heart would have stopped beating, he was sure of it. And suddenly, he felt pity. He pitied the woman. He pitied the man. Because they were Lovino. And he himself was Lovino. And if any of them were cut, they would feel pain, and they would bleed. Antonio nearly doubled over when the realization hit him. But he couldn't react. They would notice.

The only thing comforting him was the fact that once the pair were dead, they would no longer suffer persecution and scrutiny. They would be free.

.

Lovino watched as they pushed the prisoners to the left side of the platform. Then a priest stood up in the center. He was very odd looking. He looked like a sad old dog from where Lovino was standing. Did they have a sermon? Lovino wasn't sure. He had never done this. The man eventually began speaking. He spoke for a long time, too, but Lovino hadn't really paid attention. Who was counting down the minutes for the Auto to end. When the man stopped talking, Lovino sighed in relief. But the relief was short lived. Now was the sentencing. There were only two people and two stakes, so it was clear to Lovino what would happen to them.

He looked up at the couple. He had tried not to look at them, but part of him felt like he needed to see them. He wanted to take their sorrow and put it on his shoulders somehow. It was a man and a woman. They were dirty. The woman's hair was matted and looked grey from dirt and ash. The man had a long beard and thick eyebrows. They looked as though someone had tried to wash them off, but it was useless. He tried to see them closer, and immediately wished he hadn't. It was her. Elizabeth Tonqueda and her husband. He should have known when she wasn't at the market.

Lovino trembled when he heard the voice of the priest again. He seemed to be asking a question, though Lovino couldn't tell. Whatever the question was, neither of the prisoners answered.

Why? Why hadn't they just converted? Why hadn't they just played along? Lovino felt bitter tears welling in his eyes. If it were him he would have done whatever they wanted him to do. He would do anything to survive. He looked up at Señora Tonqueda. She looked up as well. Lovino flinched as their eyes met. Or was that possible? There were too many people. She couldn't possibly notice him. She was looking somewhere else. She had to be. Lovino wanted so much to look away, but he couldn't. And then he saw it. The hint of a smile on her lips. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. Why the hell was she smiling?

"That bitch and her husband. I knew they were Jewish, too. I told everyone. I did, and nobody listened to me. And they confessed, you know, too."

"You don't say? Why are they burning? That's not true, I'm telling you."

"They're selfish. They knew about other Jews and wouldn't give out names. Idiota's, if you ask me. Hell, I'd rat out my wife to get out of burning on that goddamn stake."

Lovino listened to them, tears sliding down his cheeks as he had a short epiphany. He was partially responsible for this woman's death. She knew. She knew about his family and himself. She could have easily given them away and saved her own life. And now she stood before him, being tied to the stake along with her husband. He covered his mouth was his hand and trembled, his knees weakening. He had to leave. He had to get out of here. He looked around frantically.

No matter how many breaths he took, he still needed more air. His heart felt like it was going to get lodged in his throat. He breathed faster and faster, his mind spinning. Keep calm, keep calm, don't look suspicious. He looked up at the couple again, his vision becoming blurry. The priest was holding a small golden cross in front of Señora Tonqueda´s face. What the hell was happening? A little boy beside him asked the question he was thinking, and was answered with, "If she kisses the cross, her soul is saved. And her death will be swift."

Lovino watched her. It almost seemed usless if it couldn't save her from death. Her small lips puckered towards the shining cross. Lovino's eyes widened. She was going to kiss the cross.

There was a chorus of 'ahs' and 'oohs' as the priest quickly turned around, wiping something out of his eye. She had spat in his face. The priest stayed calm somehow and went to her husband, who didn't spit, but wouldn't kiss the cross either. His decision was made once his wife had made hers. The priest lifted a torch and brought it to each of their faces, muttering something about hellfire.

Then each pile of wood and straw was lit on fire. Lovino gasped for air, trying to push through the crowd towards the front. No. No. All he could think was no. His movements were frantic. People gave him dirty looks and cursed at him, yelling things about wanting a better view. He needed to help them. Tears were seeping into the crack of his lips and rolling off of his jaw. But nobody seemed to notice. Nobody seemed to notice he was trying to help. His breath quickened and he opened his mouth. He was going to scream. He was going to scream and maybe they would notice him and stop the burning.

"N-" A hand slapped over Lovino's mouth. He clawed at the hand as he was dragged back into an alley. He squirmed and kicked, but it did no good. He bit down on the mans palm, who finally released him.

"Lovi, calm down. It's me. It's okay. Stay quiet, alright?"

Lovino stared at Antonio for a minute, his lips trembling and his head shaking, the word "no" still going through his mind. He glared at Antonio. "Bastard. You bastard!" Lovino beat his fists on Antonio's chest. "I was going to fucking save them, you stupid bastard!" He gave Antonio's chest a few more hard punches, then grasped onto the Spaniard's coat. He couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Sobs racked his body. He buried his face in the crook of Antonio's neck and tried to catch his breath.

Antonio brought Lovino in closer, shivering at the way Lovino's tears felt on his neck. He hated seeing the Italian like this, but it felt good to have him so close. "I can walk you home, Lovino. Come on."

Lovino nodded and pulled away. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and took deep breaths through his nose. His eyes widened. He slapped his hand to his nose and pinched it shut, his breaths picked up and he was shaking again. The smell was terrible and burned his nostrils, but part of him, much to his dismay and confusion, was comforted by the scent.

"Lovi, this way. We'll cut through the buildings here," Antonio said. He didn't cover his nose. He was used to the smell of burning flesh by now. Lovino, instead of standing and moving like he should have, slid down the stone wall and curled up into a ball. There was no time for this. "Lovino! Get up! You need to get home!" Still, Lovino didn't move. He just kept muttering 'no' under his breath. Antonio scooped him up and started walking towards the bakery. He'd have to come back for his horse later. It would draw too much attention now.

.

Antonio could see the bakery in the distance. Lovino had calmed down enough to walk minutes before. He was pale and didn't say anything until he said, "Come on, bastard, we'll go through the back entrance." Antonio nodded and followed Lovino behind the bakery. There was a thin, chipped green door. Lovino crossed his arms and turned to face Antonio.

"Thank you, bastard. For getting me out of there today. I wasn't thinking straight. Thanks for stopping me from yelling," Lovino said. He stepped closer to Antonio, unsure of what to do. Thank god the bastard was good with situations like this. He pulled Lovino in and hugged him. It was a warm, secure hug that made Lovino feel warm all over. His eyes widened when Antonio pulled away, only to lean in again and place a gentle kiss on Lovino's lips. Lovino let out a surprised gasp and scooted away.

Antonio expected Lovino to slap him or push him away, but he just stood there for a moment. The moment passed and Lovino stepped towards Antonio again.

"Do that again, bastard. I wasn't ready last time," Lovino said. Antonio smiled and gave him another kiss, which he returned this time. Lovino turned and opened his door. Antonio began to walk back towards the Auto.

"Where do you think you're going, tomato bastard? You're staying for dinner."

.

Antonio had left his post and gone off somewhere into the crowd. He had been acting strange since he started to investigate the Vargas family. There was definitely something off about the young man, though it wasn't clear what it was. But one thing was for sure.

Antonio was in love. He had seen it all before. The look in his eyes. The way he smiled at nothing. The way he always seemed to be in a hurry. And it was effecting his work. He should have known by now if the Vargas family was a Jewish family.

Augustine squinted as he watched the friars clean up the remains of the Jews who had just been burned. He wasn't sure if they smelled worse dead or alive. He saw one of his aides moving towards him, a concentrated look on his face.

"Señor Augustine, the man you've requested is here. The new aide. And he's a good one, I've heard. Better than Carriedo."

Augustine nodded and smiled. "Well, I've always heard that the German's aren't ones to take pity or show mercy."

To Be Continued . . . .

Auto-De-Fe': Auto-De-Fe' stands for "Act of Faith". They were popular during the Spanish Inquisition and are where heretics were sentenced. The sentences were then carried out in front of a large crowd. During an Auto, prisoners, or heretics, were led to a platform or some similar space where they could be easily viewed. They had a specific place to be held while a priest would perform mass, essentially reminding everyone at the Auto why they do the Auto and restating the faith.

It was very crowded at the Autos. Some Autos had up to two-thousand people in attendance, as they were similar to festivals. Flags were carried, banners held high, life-size paintings of prisoners who had died before their sentencing were carried through the crowd.

After the mass, it was time for sentencing. Life in prison, house arrest, probation, fines, lashes, shunning, and death were some of the punishments. Death was almost always by fire, because the Church wasn't allowed to draw blood, so by using fire, they could execute prisoners without breaking the law, or bull. They also could use strangling or hanging, which was seen as more humane. Once you were given your sentence, it would be carried out for the crowd to see.

The death sentence: Prisoners were led to the stake and tied to it, sometimes with rope, sometimes with chain, sometimes with both. Wood would be stacked around you. They might add hay or straw to get the fire going. If your crimes were especially heinous, the wood around you would be green, meaning it would take longer to burn, therefore you would take longer to burn. Sometimes it would be stacked up to as high as your neck.

At this point, there is no way to escape death. You cannot say or do anything that will get you out of it. Even if you repent and give them what they want, information on other "heretics", etc., they will most likely believe that you are only giving them the information to save your own skin, and when desperate times come for desperate measures, people tend to lie. So you were most likely lying.

The priest holds a cross to each persons face. If they kiss the cross, they are not spared, but their soul is "saved from hells eternal fire". They are then supposed to be strangled by the executor before burning. So yes, the would still burn, but they would be dead. Humane, isn't it? If you didn't kiss the cross, it only proved you more guilty, and before you were burned, a torch would be held in front of your eyes to remind you of what you'll be facing in hell. Then you would burn. And the scent was said to be terrible, of course.

To make sure that nobody properly disposed of your body, your burnt corpse would be hacked to pieces and thrown into a river.

That is what happens at an Auto-De-Fe'. Pleasant.