Cathedral of the Sea

The same evening he had spoken to the Sicilian trader, Guillem had met with Francesc de Perellós. The counsellor had listened closely to what he had to say, and then asked him to wait behind a small door. When after many minutes he was told to come in, Guillem found himself in the most imposing chamber he had ever seen: it was an airy room more than thirty paces wide, with six long arches that almost reached the floor. The walls were bare apart from the torches that lit the chamber. The infante and his counsellors were waiting for him at the far end.

When he was still several steps away from the throne, Guillem knelt down on one knee.

“Yet remember,” said the infante, “we cannot oppose the Inquisition.”

Guillem waited until Francesc de Perellós nodded for him to speak.

“You would not have to, my liege.”

“So be it,” the infante ruled, then stood up and left the chamber, accompanied by Joan Fernández d’Heredia.

“You may rise,” Francesc de Perellós told Guillem. “When can you arrange this?”

“Tomorrow, if possible. If not, the day after.”

“I will inform the magistrate.”

GUILLEM LEFT THE royal palace as night was falling. He stared up at the clear Mediterranean sky and took a deep breath. There was still a lot to do.

That same afternoon, when he was still talking to Jacopo the Sicilian, he had received a message from Jucef: “The counsellor Francesc de Perellós will see you today in the royal palace, when the parliament has finished.” He knew how to interest the infante. It was easy: he would cancel the substantial debts that the Catalan crown owed Arnau, thus making sure they did not end up in the hands of the pope. But how could he set Arnau free and yet avoid the duke of Girona having to confront the Inquisition?

Before he headed for the royal palace, Guillem had gone for a walk. His steps led him in the direction of Arnau’s countinghouse. It was boarded up: Nicolau Eimerich must have had all his account books confiscated in order to avoid any further sales. All Arnau’s assistants had gone. Guillem looked toward Santa Maria, still surrounded in scaffolding. How was it possible that someone who had given everything for a church like that ... ? He walked on to the Consulate of the Sea, and then the beach.

“How is your master?” he heard behind him.

Guillem turned, and saw a bastaix carrying an enormous sack on his shoulders. Years earlier, Arnau had lent him money, which he had returned coin by coin. Guillem shrugged and twisted his mouth. Almost immediately, he was surrounded by a line of bastaixos

who were unloading a ship. “What’s happened to Arnau?” he heard. “How can they accuse him of heresy?” That man had borrowed money from Arnau as well ... for his daughter’s dowry. How many of them had turned to Arnau for help? “If you see him,” said another bastaix, “tell him we’ve lit a candle for him beneath the statue in Santa Maria. We make sure it never goes out.” Guillem tried to explain he knew nothing, but they all launched into attacks on the Inquisition before continuing on their way.

Emboldened by their passion, Guillem strode off determinedly to the royal palace.

Now, with Santa Maria silhouetted against the night sky, Guillem found himself once more outside Arnau’s countinghouse. He needed the bill of payment that the Jew Abraham Levi had once signed, which he himself had hidden behind a stone in the wall. The door to the countinghouse was shut, but there was a window on the ground floor that had never closed properly. Guillem strained his ears: there was no one around. The window grated in the nighttime silence. Guillem froze. After all, he was a Moor, an infidel entering the house of a prisoner of the Inquisition in the middle of the night. If he were caught, the fact that he had been baptized a Christian would be of little help. But the nighttime sounds around him made him realize that the universe did not depend on him: the lapping of the waves, the creaking of the scaffolding at Santa Maria, babies crying, men shouting at their wives ...

He opened the window wider and slipped inside. Abraham Levi’s fictitious deposit had allowed Arnau to put the money to good use and earn healthy profits, but each time he did so, he made sure that a quarter of the earnings were noted down in Levi’s name. Guillem waited until his eyes grew used to the darkness and the moonlight could guide him.