Sci - Fi Short Stories

The Infanta

Granada, Spain – December of 1491

The fire reached the city earlier than expected. There was nothing to see except the night sky being painted with red shades. The smoke blurred the view of the stars. But it was the noise that woke up the little girl.

“Mama!” she screamed, getting out of her bed, her little feet still running uncertain to the door. “Mama! Help me!”

Her lady-in-waiting opened the door, in a hurry, and reached her hand to the little girl, but she ran through the corridor, ignoring her.

“¡Madre!  Mama!”

A female scream from outside made the lady-in-waiting cringe in fear.

“It’s them!” she cried. “The Moors!”

As she heard that name, the girl ran across the place, desperate. “MAMA! MAMA!!”

The figure of a tall woman appeared on the other side of the dark corridor. She was wearing a heavy silver armor, only with the helmet missing. The little girl ran to her, knowing it was her mother.

“Mama, take me with you! Please! Don’t leave me here, they will kill me!”

The woman looked around. “I cannot take you. You must stay here with Maya and be a good girl. I must go.”

“No! Madre, please!” she cried. “Don’t leave me here! Please! I am scared!”

“I must go. Spain needs me.”

“I do not care about Spain!” the girl cried.

Her mother looked down. “Stay here. Stay with Maya. Nothing will happen to you. I must go now, I need to fight. The men need me.”

Without kissing her daughter, the woman turned around and left on a hurry. The girl was left sobbing, quietly, looking surprised at the figure of her mother disappearing.

“They will kill us!” The lady-in-waiting cried. “They will rape me and kill me!”

“Can’t you shut up?” The girl said, suddenly irritated and filled with pride. “If I, the Infanta of Spain, could be left alone in danger, certainly you don’t matter!”

The little girl wiped her tears; Maya suggested they would go back to her bed, where it was safer.

“You can go there, if you want. I will go see the battle.”

“Infanta, please!”

“I want to see!” she insisted.

“A battle is not for a child’s eyes!”

“Might not be for a common child. But I am the Princess of Spain, and one day, I will be Queen, like my mother.  I must see.”

“Catalina!” the lady-in-waiting tried to call the little stubborn girl back, but she had already run away, her long white nightdress barely touching the floor. “¡Infanta!”

Catalina quickly ran to the nearest window she could find. She sat on the rail of the window and observed.

The fire had been controlled, apparently. From behind the thick colored glass, the little Infanta of Spain saw what a battle was.

In the six years of her life, all she knew was that she was a princess, daughter to King Ferdinand of Spain, the greatest commandant who reigned Aragón, and Queen Isabella of Castille, the most powerful woman in Europe, who held her own kingdom. They were the greatest monarchs that ever were, fighting against the moors who wished to overcome their lands and destroy their kingdom. Her mother had told her the Moors were bad people, against their faith, and it was their duty to stop them from conquering more lands.