Cathedral of the Sea

“They are nothing more than Arnau Estanyol deserves,” said the lord of Bellera. “You well know that this man has spent a lifetime undermining authority. On his lands, contrary to his spouse’s wishes, he abolished customary practices. Here in Barcelona he lends money to the poor, and as consul of the sea he is well-known for his habit of giving judgments in favor of the common people.” Nicolau Eimerich listened attentively. “Throughout his life he has sought to undermine the principles on which our social harmony is based. God created the peasants to work the land under the tutelage of their feudal lords. Even the Church, in order not to lose them, has forbidden its serfs to take the habit ...”

Nicolau intervened. “In New Catalonia many of those customary practices no longer exist.”

Genis Puig was glancing anxiously at each of them in turn.

“That is precisely what I am trying to say.” The lord of Bellera chopped the air with his hands. “In our new Catalonia there are no abuses... thanks to our prince, thanks to the Church. We have to populate the lands won from the infidel, and the only way to do that is by attracting new people. That is what our prince has decided. But Arnau is nothing more than the prince ... of darkness.”

When he saw the grand inquisitor nod imperceptibly at these words, Genis Puig smiled broadly.

“He lends money to the poor,” the nobleman went on, “money he knows he is never likely to recover. God created the rich ... and the poor. It is not right that the poor should have money and marry off their daughters as though they were rich; that is against the will of our Lord. What are those poor people going to think of you churchmen, or of we nobles? Are we not following the precepts of the Church when we treat the poor as they should be treated? Arnau is a devil, the son of devils. Everything he does is designed to prepare for the coming of the Devil through the rebellion of the common people. I beg you to think on all this.”

Nicolau Eimerich thought about what he had heard. He called in his scribe to note down all the accusations that the lord of Bellera and Genis Puig had made. He sent for Margarida Puig and ordered that Francesca be imprisoned.

“What about the other woman?” he asked. “Is she accused of anything?” The two men hesitated. “In that case, let her be set free.”

Francesca was sent to the huge palace dungeon. She was chained to the wall at the opposite end from Arnau. Aledis was thrown out onto the street.

When he had finished organizing everything, Nicolau Eimerich slumped in his chair. Blaspheming in the temple of our Lord; having sexual congress with a Jewess, befriending Jews; committing murder; engaging in diabolic practices, going against the precepts of the Church—and all of this backed up by priests, nobles, knights... and by the king’s ward. The grand inquisitor leaned back in his chair and smiled to himself.

“How rich is your brother, Joan? Stupid man! What fine are you talking about, when all that money will fall into the hands of the Inquisition anyway as soon as your brother is condemned to die?”

ALEDIS STUMBLED AS the soldiers pushed her into the street outside the bishop’s palace. When she regained her balance, she realized that several passersby were staring at her. What was it that the soldiers had shouted? Witch? She was almost in the middle of the street by now, and people were still peering at her. She looked down at her filthy clothes. She felt her brittle, unkempt hair. A well-dressed man walked by, openly staring at her. Aledis stamped her foot and leapt toward him, baring her teeth like a dog attacking its prey. The man jumped backward and then ran off, slowing down only when he realized Aledis was not following him. Now it was Aledis who scrutinized all those around her, forcing them to lower their eyes one by one, although some of them still cast covert glances out of the corner of their eyes to see what she was doing.

What had happened? Men sent by the lord of Bellera had broken into her house and arrested Francesca as she rested on a chair. Nobody had given them any explanation. The soldiers roughly pushed the girls aside when they tried to intervene; they all turned to Aledis to see what she would do, but she was paralyzed by fear. A few clients ran out of the house, hose around their ankles. Aledis confronted the soldier who seemed to be in charge:

“What does this mean? Why are you arresting this woman?”

“On the orders of the lord of Bellera,” the man replied.