Arnau thumped his table and stood up. The bailiff who had brought him the news looked startled.
“Tell the guard,” Arnau ordered him.
The honorable consul of the sea made his way hastily through the streets of the city, accompanied by half a dozen armed
“Who is in charge here?” Arnau asked the captain.
“The magistrate is inside,” the officer told him.
“Tell him I’m here.”
The magistrate soon appeared.
“What do you want, Arnau?” he asked, holding out his hand.
“I want to talk to the Jews.”
“The infante has given the order—”
“I know,” Arnau interrupted him. “That’s exactly why I need to talk to them. I’ve got a lot of outstanding business with Jews. I need to talk to them.”
“But the infante ...,” the magistrate began to protest.
“The infante lives from the Jewish quarters in Catalonia! The king has ordered that they pay him twelve thousand in yearly wages.” The magistrate nodded. “The infante would like those responsible for the profanation to be found, but you know very well that he also wants Jewish commerce to continue, because if it doesn’t... Remember, the Jews of Barcelona contribute most of those twelve thousand wages.”
The magistrate was convinced, and allowed Arnau and his men through.
“They are in the main synagogue,” he said as they passed by.
“I know, I know.”
Even though all the Jews were shut in, the streets of the quarter were thronged with people. As he walked toward the synagogue, Arnau could see a swarm of black-robed monks searching each and every house for the bleeding host.
At the synagogue entrance, Arnau came up against more guards.
“I’ve come to talk to Hasdai Crescas.”
The captain tried to stand in his way, but the other guard, who had accompanied Arnau, explained he had permission.
While they were waiting for Hasdai to come out, Arnau looked back toward the Jewish quarter. The houses stood wide open and had obviously been ransacked. The friars came and went, carrying out objects and showing them to one another. They shook their heads, then threw them onto the growing pile of Jewish possessions. “Who are the profaners?” thought Arnau.
“Your Worship,” he heard behind him.
Arnau wheeled round and found Hasdai standing there. For a few seconds he stared into the Jew’s eyes, full of tears at the violation of his intimate world. Arnau ordered all the soldiers to withdraw. His missatges obeyed at once, but the king’s soldiers stayed where they were.
“Since when did the consul of the sea’s affairs interest you?” Arnau asked them. “Stand back with my men. The consul’s concerns are secret.”
The soldiers obeyed reluctantly. Arnau and Hasdai studied each other.
“I’d like to embrace you,” Arnau said when nobody could hear them.
“Better not.”
“How are you?”
“Not good, Arnau. We old people are unimportant, the young can cope, but the children have had nothing to eat or drink for hours. There are several infants; when their mothers have no more milk to give them ... We’ve been here only a few hours, but bodies have their needs ...”
“Can I help?”
“We’ve tried to negotiate, but the magistrate will not listen. You know there is only one way out: we have to buy our freedom.”
“How much should I ... ?”
Hasdai’s stare prevented him from finishing. How much was the life of five thousand Jews worth?
“I trust you, Arnau. My community is in danger.”
Arnau stretched out his hand.
“We all trust you,” said Hasdai again, taking it in his.
Arnau went back among the black friars. Could they have found the bleeding host already? The contents of the houses, including pieces of furniture, were being heaped ever higher in the streets. As he left the Jewry, Arnau thanked the magistrate. He would ask for an official audience with him that afternoon; but how much should he offer for a man’s life? Or for an entire community’s? Arnau had bargained with all kinds of goods: fabrics, spices, grain, animals, ships, gold, and silver; he knew the price of slaves, but—how much was a friend worth?