Cathedral of the Sea

“We shall see, Sinom, we shall see. Lock him up and bring me his wife and children.”

“No!” begged Sinom as the soldiers dragged him out toward the cellar. “They have nothing to do with this.”

“Stop!” Joan ordered. The soldiers halted, and turned their prisoner to face the inquisitor once more. “What do they have nothing to do with, Sinom? What do they have nothing to do with?”

Trying to save his family, Sinom confessed. When he had finished, Joan ordered his arrest... and that of his family. Then he ordered the others brought in.

JOAN WENT OUT into the square before first light.

“Does he never sleep?” asked one of the soldiers between yawns.

“No,” another one answered. “He’s often heard pacing up and down his room all night.”

The two soldiers looked at Joan, who was busy preparing everything for his final sermon. His threadbare black habit was so stiff with dirt it seemed unwilling to follow his movements.

“But if he doesn’t sleep and doesn’t eat... ,” said the first soldier.

“He lives on hatred,” said the captain, who had overheard them talking.

At first light, the villagers began to file into the square. The accused were led to the front by the soldiers: among them was Alfons, the nine-year-old boy.

Joan began the auto-de-fé. The village authorities came to pledge their oath of obedience to the Inquisition, and to swear they would see that the sentences were carried out. Those who had appeared before Joan during the period of grace were given lesser punishments: to make a pilgrimage to Girona cathedral. Alfons was sentenced to help the neighbor he had stolen from for free one day a week for a month. When the scribe read Gaspar’s testimony, he was interrupted by a man shouting:

“Whore!” A man in the crowd threw himself on the woman who had fornicated with Gaspar. The soldiers moved in to protect her. “So that was the sin you would not tell me?” he went on shouting behind the line of soldiers.

As soon as the wronged husband had fallen silent, Joan read out the sentence:

“Every Sunday for the next three years, wearing the cloak of repentance, you will kneel outside the church from sunup to sunset. As for you... ,” he began, turning to the woman.

“I claim the right to punish her,” cried the husband.

Joan looked at her. “Do you have any children?” he almost asked her. What had they done wrong to have to talk to her from on top of a crate outside a tiny window, their only consolation that of feeling a hand stroke their hair? But the man had a right to ...

“As for you,” he repeated, “I hand you over to the lay authorities, who will see to it that the laws of Catalonia are respected, as your husband requests.”

Joan continued to pass sentence and hand out punishments.

“Anton Sinom. You and your family are to be put at the disposition of the inquisitor general.”

“LET’S GO,” JOAN ordered after loading all his scant belongings on a mule.

Joan took one last look at the village. He could hear his own words still echoing around the small square; later that day they would arrive at another one, and then another, and still another. “And in each of them,” thought Joan, “the people will stare at me and listen fearfully to my sermon. Then they will accuse one another, and their sins will come out. And I shall have to investigate everything. I shall have to interpret the way they move, their expressions, their silences, their feelings, in order to uncover sin.”

“Hurry up, Captain. I want to arrive before noon.”

PART FOUR

Chained to Destiny

46

Holy Week1367

Barcelona

ARNAU REMAINED ON his knees in front of his Virgin of the Sea while the priests said the Easter mass. He had stridden into Santa Maria with Eleonor on his arm. The church was full to overflowing, but the congregation gave way to allow them to reach the front. He recognized their smiles: this man had asked him for a loan for his new boat; that one had entrusted him with his savings; over there was someone who wanted a dowry for his daughter; and there was another who had not paid him the sum they had agreed on. The man avoided his gaze, but Arnau paused next to him and, to Eleonor’s disgust, shook him by the hand.

“Peace be with you,” he said.

The man’s eyes lit up. Arnau continued on his way up toward the main altar. That was all he had, he told the Virgin: humble people who appreciated him because he helped them. Joan was tracking down sin, and he did not know what had become of Guillem. As for Mar, what could he say?

Eleonor kicked his ankle. When Arnau glanced across at her, she flapped her hand for him to get up. “Have you ever seen a noble who stays on his knees as long as you do?” she had already chided him on several occasions. Arnau paid no attention, but Eleonor continued flicking her foot at his ankles.