“Why would he do that?”
“We Jews are forbidden to have Christian slaves. If any of our slaves convert, we have either to free them, or sell them to another Christian.”
“Will the other money changers believe it?”
“An outbreak of the plague is enough to undermine any religious belief.”
“Is Sahat willing to do it?”
“He is.”
They had spoken about the matter not as master and slave, but as the two close friends they had become over the years.
“Would you be capable of it?” Hasdai had asked him.
“Yes,” answered Sahat. “Allah, all praise and glory to him, will understand. You know the practice of our faith is forbidden in Christian lands. We fulfill our obligations in secret, in the privacy of our own hearts. That is how it will continue to be, however much holy water they sprinkle over me.”
“Arnau is a devout Christian,” Hasdai went on. “If he ever got to find out...”
“He never will. We slaves more than anyone know the art of dissembling. No, not while I’ve been with you, but I have been a slave all my life. Our lives often depend on it.”
The third rule remained a secret between Hasdai and Sahat. “Sahat, I have no need to tell you,” his former master said, with a trembling voice, “how grateful I am to you for this decision of yours. My children and I will be eternally grateful to you.”
“It is I who should thank you.”
“I suppose you know where you should concentrate your efforts.”
“I believe so.”
“Stay away from spices, from fabrics, oils, or wax,” Hasdai warned him, while Sahat nodded, having already expected this kind of advice. “Until the situation has settled, Catalonia will be unable to import these kinds of things. Slaves, Sahat, slaves. After the plague, Catalonia needs people to work. Until now, it’s not something we have done much of. You will find them in Byzantium, Palestine, Rhodes, and Cyprus. And in the markets of Sicily as well, of course. There are lots of Turks and Tartars on sale there. But I think it’s better if you buy them in their own countries. We have agents in each of them who can help you. Your new master should amass a considerable fortune in no time at all.”
“What if he refuses to deal in slaves? He doesn’t look the kind of person—”
“He is a good person.” Hasdai interrupted him to confirm his suspicions. “He’s scrupulous, of humble origin, and he’s very generous. He might well refuse to have anything to do with the slave trade. Therefore, don’t bring them to Barcelona. Don’t let Arnau see them. Take them directly to Perpignan, Tarragona, or Salou, or simply sell them in Mallorca. That’s where there is one of the biggest slave markets in all the Mediterranean. Let others bring them to Barcelona or wherever else they want to take them. Castille also needs a lot of slaves. Anyway, by the time Arnau has worked out how these things function, he will have made a lot of money. If I were you—and I’ll tell him the same myself—I would tell him to become familiar with all the different currencies, how money is changed, the various markets, the routes, and the main sorts of goods that are exported or imported. While he is doing that, you can be getting on with your own affairs. Just remember that we are no more intelligent than anyone else, and that anybody who has money will be importing slaves. There’s a chance to make a lot of money, but it won’t last. Make the most of it while you can.”
“Will you help?”
“In any way I can. I’ll give you letters for all my agents—you know them already. They will supply you with whatever credit you may require.”
“What about the account books? The slaves will have to appear there, and Arnau could find out.”
Hasdai smiled knowingly at his former slave.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to sort out a small detail like that.”
34
“THIS ONE!” ARNAU pointed to a small two-story house that was shut up and had a white cross daubed on the door. Sahat, who had been baptized a Christian with the name of Guillem, nodded at him. “Is that all right?” asked Arnau.
Guillem nodded again, this time with a smile.
Arnau looked at the house and shook his head. All he had done was point to it, and Guillem had immediately consented. This was the first time in his life that his wishes had been so easily granted. Would it always be the same from now on? He shook his head again.
“Is something wrong, Master?”
Arnau glared at him. How often had he told Guillem not to call him that? But the Moor did not agree. According to him, they had to keep up appearances. Now he stared back steadily at Arnau. “Don’t you like it, Master?” he added.
“Yes ... of course I like it. Is it suitable?”
“It couldn’t be better. Look,” said Guillem, pointing to its position, “it’s right on the corner of the two streets where the money changers live: Canvis Nous and Canvis Vells. What could be better?”
Arnau followed Guillem’s finger. Canvis Vells ran down to the sea, to the left of where they were standing. Canvis Nous was immediately opposite them. But that was not why Arnau had chosen it: the important thing was that the house was on the corner of the square of Santa Maria, just by what would be the church’s main doorway.
“A good omen,” he muttered.
