Cathedral of the Sea

“Listen,” Aledis whispered to them some time later, “that makes three jugs of wine, and they have had their effect. In a moment I’m going to let my head drop on the table, and I’ll start snoring. From then on, you know what you have to do. We need to know why Francesca’s been arrested, and what they intend to do with her.”

Soon afterward, Aledis’s head drooped onto the table between her hands. But she was listening intently.

“Why not come over here?” came the sound of a man’s voice. Silence. “She’s drunk ... ,” the voice insisted.

“We won’t harm you,” said a second voice. “How could we, in a place like this, with the innkeeper as witness?”

Aledis thought of the innkeeper; he wouldn’t say a word, providing they let him lay his hands on something ...

“Don’t worry ... We are gentlemen...”

The two girls eventually gave in. Aledis heard them scraping their chairs back and standing up.

“You’re not snoring loudly enough,” Teresa whispered to her.

Aledis allowed herself a smile.

“A castle!”

Aledis could imagine Teresa and those incredible blue eyes of hers opening wide as she stared at the lord of Bellera, making sure he got an eyeful of all her charms.

“Did you hear that, Eulàlia? A castle. He’s a real nobleman. We’ve never talked with a noble before ...”

“Tell us about all your battles,” Aledis heard Eulàlia encouraging him. “Have you met King Pedro? Have you talked to him?”

“Who else do you know?” Teresa wanted to know.

The two girls pressed round Lord de Bellera. Aledis was tempted to open her eyes, just enough to see them at work ... but there was no point. Her girls knew what they were doing.

The castle, the king, the royal court... had they ever been there? The war ... squeals of terror when Genis Puig, who had no castle, no king, and had never been to court, tried to capture their attention by playing up all the battles he had fought in. And wine, lots and lots of wine ...

“What is a nobleman like you doing in the city, in this inn? Are you waiting to see someone important?” Aledis heard Teresa asking.

“We’ve brought in a witch,” Genis Puig boasted.

The girls had been talking to Lord de Bellera. Teresa saw him cast a disapproving look at his companion. Now was the time.

“A witch!” gushed Teresa, throwing herself on Jaume de Bellera and clasping both his hands in hers. “In Tarragona we saw one being burned. She shrieked as the flames leapt up her legs to her body, then her breasts, and...”

Teresa looked up at the ceiling as though following the path of the flames. She raised her hands to her own breast, but soon came back to reality, and looked with embarrassment at the nobleman, whose face was already flushed with desire.

Still holding her hands, Jaume de Bellera stood up.

“Come with me.” It sounded more like an order than a request. Teresa let herself be dragged away.

Genis Puig watched them leave.

“What about us?” he said to Eulàlia, suddenly dropping his hand onto her calf.

Eulàlia made no move to lift it off.

“First I want to hear everything about the witch. It excites me ...”

The knight slid his hand up her thigh. He began to tell her the story. When she heard the name “Arnau,” Aledis almost gave the game away by raising her head. “The witch is his mother,” she heard Genis Puig say. Revenge, revenge, revenge ...

“Now can we go?” Genis Puig pleaded when he had finished his account.

Aledis heard Eulàlia hesitate.

“I’m not sure...,” said the girl.

Genis Puig stood up, swaying. He slapped Eulàlia on the face.

“That’s enough nonsense. Come with me!”

“All right, let’s go.” She yielded.

ONCE SHE REALIZED she was alone in the dining room, Aledis found it hard to stand up. She put her hands to the back of her head and rubbed her neck. So they were going to try Arnau and Francesca—the Devil and the witch, according to Genis Puig.

“I’d take my own life before letting Arnau know I’m his mother,” Francesca had told her during one of their few conversations after Arnau’s speech on the plains of Montbui. “He’s a well-respected man,” Francesca went on before Aledis could say anything, “and I’m nothing more than the mistress of a bawdy house. Besides... there are many things I could never explain to him: why I didn’t follow his father and him, why I left him to die...”

Aledis had looked down.

“I’ve no idea what his father told him about me,” Francesca continued, “but whatever it was, there’s nothing I can do about it now. Time leads one to forget even a mother’s love. Whenever I think of him, I like to picture him on that platform defying the nobles; I have no wish to see him brought down from on high. Best leave things as they are, Aledis. You’re the only person in the world who knows my secret; I’m trusting you not to give it away even after my death. Promise me that, Aledis.”

But what use was her promise now?

WHEN ESTEVE CAME back up into the tower, he was no longer carrying the scythe.

“The mistress says you are to put this over your eyes,” he said, throwing Joan a piece of cloth.

“Who do you think you are?” Joan exclaimed, kicking the cloth away.