without having to touch any tombs. The Roman cemetery was exactly the same as the first time Arnau had seen it, with its strange pyramidal tiles and big amphoras with skeletons inside. Arnau placed the lantern on one of them, and offered the children the water, bread, and salt meat. They all drank avidly, but would only eat the bread.
“It’s not kosher,” explained Raquel, pointing to the meat.
“Kosher?”
Raquel explained what kosher meant, and the rituals that had to be performed before members of the Jewish community were allowed to eat meat. They went on talking until the two boys had fallen fast asleep on the girl’s lap. Then, whispering so as not to wake them, Raquel asked Arnau: “Don’t you believe what they say?”
“What about?”
“That we poisoned wells.”
Arnau did not reply for some time.
“Have any Jews died of the plague?” he asked.
“Lors.”
“In that case, no,” Arnau asserted. “I don’t believe it.”
When Raquel also fell asleep, Arnau crawled back out of the tunnel and headed for the beach.
THE ATTACK ON the Jewry lasted two days. All that time, the outnumbered royal forces, together with members of the Jewish community, tried their best to defend the district from the constant assault of an enraged, zealous mob who in the name of Christianity dedicated themselves to pillaging and murder. In the end, the king sent enough soldiers to quell the riot, and things slowly returned to normal.
On the third night Sahat, who had fought alongside his masters, was able to get away and meet Arnau on the beach opposite the fish stall, as agreed.
“Sahat!” came a voice in the darkness.
“What are you doing here?” asked the slave when Raquel threw herself on him.
“The Christian is very ill.”
“Is it ... ?”
“No,” the girl interrupted him, “it isn’t the plague. He doesn’t have any swellings. It’s his leg. The wound has become infected and he has a high fever. He can’t walk.”
“What about the other two?” asked the slave.
“They’re fine ... and my family?”
“They’re waiting for you.”
Raquel took the slave to the platform by the Plaza del Born doorway at Santa Maria.
“Here?” asked the Moor in a puzzled way when the girl slipped in underneath the wooden planks.
“Quiet,” she said. “Follow me.”
They made their way along the tunnel to the Roman cemetery. They all had to help get Arnau out; Sahat crawled backward pulling him by the hands while the children pushed him by the feet. Arnau had lost consciousness. The five of them, with Arnau draped over Sahat’s shoulders and the children dressed in Christian clothes the slave had brought them, headed for the Jewry, making sure they stayed in the darkest corners as much as possible. When they arrived at the Jewry gates, which were guarded by a large contingent of the king’s men, Sahat explained to the captain who the children really were and why they were not wearing their yellow badges. Arnau, he said, was a Christian, but had a fever and needed to see a doctor, as the captain could see for himself. The captain took a quick look at the wound, but soon moved away in case Arnau was a plague victim. But what in fact opened the gates to the Jewry for them was the generous purse of money that the slave slipped into the captain’s hands while he was talking to him.
32
“NOBODY IS GOING to harm those children. Father, where are you? Why, Father? There’s grain in the palace. I love you, Maria ...”
Whenever Arnau was delirious, Sahat made the children leave the room. He called for Raquel and Jucef’s father, Hasdai, to come and help keep Arnau still when he started fighting the soldiers of Roussillon and threatened to reopen the wound on his leg. Master and slave kept watch at the foot of the bed, while a female servant put cold compresses on his forehead. This had already been going on for a week, during which time Arnau received the best care from Jewish doctors as well as constant attention from the Crescas family and their slaves, most of all Sahat, who watched over him day and night.
“The wound is not that serious,” said the doctors, “but the infection has spread to the whole body.”
“Will he live?” asked Hasdai.
“He’s a strong man” was all the doctors would say as they left.
“There’s grain in the palace!” Arnau shouted again a few minutes later. He was sweating and writhing on his bed.
“If it hadn’t been for him,” said Sahat, “we’d all be dead.”
“I know,” said Hasdai, who was standing next to him.
“Why did he do it? He’s a Christian.”
“He’s a good person.”
At night, when Arnau was resting and the house was quiet, Sahat would turn to the east to kneel and pray for the Christian. During the day, he patiently made him drink as much water as possible, and take the potions the doctors had prepared. Raquel and Jucef often came into the room, and if Arnau was not delirious, Sahat let them stay.
