Cathedral of the Sea

That was why, to get the cheap cuts to feed to the servants and slaves in the household, they had to leave the city by Portaferrisa until they reached the market where carcasses were piled alongside meat of unknown origin. Again it was Estranya’s turn to smile as she bought, and loaded the boy with her new purchases. Then it was back to the baker’s to pick up the bread from the oven, and then to Grau’s house, Estranya still swaying and waddling her way along, Arnau dragging his feet.

ONE MORNING, WHEN Estranya and Arnau were buying meat at the main slaughterhouse by Plaza del Blat, they heard the bells of San Jaume church begin to peal. It was not Sunday or a feast day. Estranya came to a halt, legs spread wide. Someone in the square let out a shout. Arnau could not understand what he was saying, but lots of others soon joined in, and people started running about in all directions. He turned toward Estranya, a question on his lips. He dropped the load. The wheat merchants were all scrambling to dismantle their stalls. People were still rushing to and fro, and the bells of San Jaume were still ringing out over the square. Arnau thought of running there, but... weren’t those the bells of Santa Clara he could hear too? He strained to capture the sound, but at that very moment the bells of San Pere, Framenors, and San Just all started up. All the churches in the city were ringing their bells! Arnau stood stock-still, openmouthed and deafened, watching everyone running all round him.

All of a sudden, he saw Joanet’s face in front of him. His friend was hopping about nervously.

“Via fora! Via fora!” he was shouting.

“What’s that?” Arnau asked.

“Via fora!” Joaner bawled in his ear.

“What does that mean?”

Joanet motioned to him to be quiet, and pointed toward the ancient Mayor gate, beneath the magistrate’s palace.

As Arnau watched, one of the magistrate’s stewards came out. He was dressed for battle, in a silver breastplate and with a broadsword at his side. In his right hand he was carrying the banner of Sant Jordi on a gilded pole: a red cross on a white background. Behind him, another steward who was also in battle dress held aloft the city banner. The two men ran to the center of the square and the stone dividing Barcelona into four quarters. When they reached it, waving their banners, the two men cried out as one:

“Via fora!

Via fora!”

All the bells were still ringing, and the cry of Via fora was taken up along all the streets around the square. Joanet, who until then had witnessed the spectacle without a word, suddenly began to shout like a madman.

Finally, Estranya reacted. She swatted a hand at Arnau to make him move, but he was still entranced by the sight of the two stewards standing in the center of the square, with their shining armor and swords, waving their colorful banners, and ducked under her fist.

“Come with me, Arnau,” Estranya ordered him.

“No,” he said, egged on by Joanet.

Estranya grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. “Come on. This is no business of ours.”

“What are you saying, slave?” The words came from a woman who, like them, was caught up in the excitement of what was going on in front of them and had heard the argument between Arnau and the mulatto. “Is the boy a slave?” Estranya shook her head. “Is he a free citizen?” Arnau nodded. “How dare you say then that the ‘Via fora’ is none of the boy’s business?” Estranya hesitated, her feet slipping under her like a duck’s on ice.

“Who are you, slave,” another woman said, “to deny the boy the honor of defending Barcelona’s rights?”

Estranya lowered her head. What would her master say if he heard? After all, he was the first to defend the city’s honor. The bells were still ringing. Joanet had joined the group of women and was signaling to Arnau to come with him.

“Women don’t go with the city host,” the first woman reminded Estranya.

“And slaves still less,” another woman added.

“Who do you think will look after our husbands if not boys like them?”

Estranya did not dare raise her eyes from the ground.

“Who do you think will cook for them or run their errands? Who will take off their boots and clean their crossbows?”

“Go where you need to go,” the women told her. “This is no place for a slave.”

Estranya picked up all the sacks that Arnau had been carrying, and started to waddle off. Smiling contentedly, Joanet looked admiringly at the group of women. Arnau had not moved.

“Come on, boys,” the women encouraged them. “Come and look after our menfolk.”

“Make sure you tell my father!” Arnau shouted to Estranya, who had managed to walk only three or four yards.

Joanet saw that Arnau could not take his eyes off the slave, and understood his doubts.

“Didn’t you hear the women?” he said. “It’s up to us to look after Barcelona’s soldiers. Your father will understand.”