Cathedral of the Sea

“We are well aware of what you said!” Nicolau Eimerich shouted. “You compared the one, true Christian faith with the heretical doctrines of the Jews.”

Arnau faced the tribunal. The clerk was still writing on his papers. Even the soldiers, standing stiffly to attention by the doors behind him, appeared to be listening to the scrape of his quill on the parchment. Nicolau smiled. The scratching pierced Arnau to the backbone, and a shudder ran through his entire body. The inquisitor saw it, and smiled even more broadly. “Yes,” he seemed to be saying, “that is what you said.”

“They are just like us,” Arnau repeated.

Nicolau silenced him with a wave of his hand.

The clerk continued writing for a few more moments. “Everything you said is recorded there,” the inquisitor’s look told Arnau. When the clerk raised his quill, Nicolau gave a satisfied smile.

“The session is suspended until tomorrow,” he cried, getting up from his seat.

MAR WAS TIRED of listening to Joan.

“Where are you going?” Aledis asked her. Mar merely looked at her. “There again? You’ve been every day, and you haven’t succeeded ...”

“I’ve succeeded in letting her know I’m here, and that I won’t forget what she did to me.” Joan hid his face. “I succeeded in catching sight of her through the window, and in letting her know that Arnau is mine. I saw it in her eyes, and I intend to remind her of it every day of her life. I intend to succeed by making her think every moment of the day that I was the one who won.”

Aledis watched her leave the inn. Mar took the same route as she had done every day since her arrival in Barcelona, and ended up outside the gates of the palace in Calle de Montcada. She pounded on the door knocker as hard as she could. Eleonor might refuse to see her, but she wanted her to know she was there.

As on every other day, the ancient servant peered at her through the peephole.

“My lady,” he said, “you know that Doña Eleonor ...”

“Open the door. I just want to see her, even if it is only through the window she hides behind.”

“But she does not want that.”

“Does she know who I am?”

Mar saw Pere turn toward the palace windows.

“Yes.”

Mar banged again on the knocker.

“My lady, do not insist, or Doña Eleonor will call the soldiers,” the old man advised her.

“Open up, Pere.”

“She won’t see you, my lady.”

Mar felt a hand on her shoulder, pulling her away from the door.

“Perhaps she will see me,” she heard, before she saw someone stepping in front of her.

“Guillem!” cried Mar, flinging herself on him.

“Do you remember me, Pere?” asked the Moor, with Mar clinging to him.

“How could I not remember?”

“Well, then, tell your mistress I want to see her.”

When the old man shut the peephole, Guillem took Mar by the waist and lifted her into the air. Laughing, Mar let him whirl her round. Then Guillem put her down, took a step back, and lifted her arms so that he could get a good look at her.

“My little girl,” he said, his voice choking with emotion. “How often I’ve dreamed of holding you in my arms again! But now you weigh a lot more. You’ve become a real ...”

Mar broke free, and ran to embrace him. “Why did you abandon me?” she asked, tears in her eyes.

“I was no more than a slave, child. What could a mere slave do?”

“You were like a father to me.”

“Am I not that anymore?”

“You always will be.”

Mar hugged Guillem tight. “You always will be,” thought the Moor. How many years had he wasted so far from here? He turned back to the door.

“Doña Eleonor will not see you either,” he heard from inside.

“Tell her she will be hearing from me.”

THE SOLDIERS TOOK him back down to the dungeons. As the jailer chained him up again, Arnau could not take his eyes off the dark bundle at the far end of the gloomy cell. He was still standing observing it when the jailer left.

“What do you have to do with Aledis?” he shouted at the old woman as soon as the jailer’s footsteps had faded in the distance.

Arnau thought he could make out a slight movement in the shadowy figure, but after that, nothing.

“What do you have to do with Aledis?” he repeated. “What was she doing here? Why does she visit you?”

The silence that was his only reply led him to think again of that pair of huge brown eyes.

“What do Aledis and Mar have to do with each other?” he begged the shadow.

No reply. Arnau tried at least to hear the old woman’s breathing, but the countless groans and snores from the other prisoners prevented him from making out any sound Francesca might be making. Arnau looked desperately along the walls of the dungeon: nobody paid him any heed.

As SOON AS he saw Mar come in accompanied by a splendidly dressed Moor, the innkeeper stopped stirring the big cooking pot hanging over the fire. He became even more troubled when he saw two slaves follow them in carrying Guillem’s possessions. “Why didn’t he go to the corn exchange, where all the merchants stay?” he thought as he went to receive them.

“This is truly an honor,” the innkeeper said, bowing to the ground before them.