Cathedral of the Sea

“That was still to come: the official announcement that the castle has changed hands,” Joan concluded.

The baroness moved forward.

“At least he mentioned my name,” Arnau said.

The steward was still shouting with all his might.

“Without that, your possession of the castle would not be legal,” the friar concluded.

Arnau was about to say something, but thought better of it and merely shook his head wearily.

INSIDE THE CASTLE yard, behind the walls and around the keep, the usual conglomeration of buildings had been put up haphazardly over the years. There was a long hall with a vast dining room, kitchens, and pantries, with other rooms on the upper floor. Scattered around outside the hall were a handful of wooden buildings that housed the servants and the small garrison of soldiers.

The captain of the guard, a small, broad-beamed man who looked unkempt and filthy, came out to officially greet Eleonor and her party. They all went into the large dining chamber.

“Show me where the thane lived,” Eleonor screamed.

The captain pointed to a stone staircase whose only adornment was a stone balustrade. The baroness started up the steps, followed by her steward, the scribe, and her maidens. She completely ignored Arnau.

The three Estanyols stood in the middle of the hall, watching as the slaves carried in all Eleonor’s possessions.

“Perhaps you should—” Joan started to say.

“Don’t interfere, Joan,” Arnau said curtly.

For some moments, they surveyed the great hall: the high ceiling, huge hearth, armchairs, the candelabra, and the table with room for a dozen guests. Then Eleonor’s steward appeared on the stairs. He came down toward them but stopped three steps before the bottom.

“The lady baroness,” he said in fluted tones, without speaking to anyone in particular, “says she is very tired tonight and does not want to be disturbed.”

The steward was about to turn on his heel when Arnau halted him.

“Hey, you!” he shouted. The steward turned back toward him. “Tell your lady mistress not to worry. No one is going to disturb her ... ever,” he hissed. Mar’s eyes opened wide, and she raised her hands to her mouth. The steward turned to make his way up the stairs once more, but Arnau again called out to him: “Hey! Which are our rooms?” The steward shrugged. “Where’s the captain of the guard?”

“He’s attending my lady.”

“Well, go upstairs and find her, and get the captain to come down. And be quick about it, because if you aren’t I’ll see to it you are castrated, and the next time you announce the handover of a castle you’ll be singing it.”

The steward gripped the balustrade tightly, confused at this violent threat. Could this be the same man who had sat quietly the whole day as his cart bumped and jolted along? Arnau’s eyes narrowed. He strode over to the staircase, pulling out the bastaix dagger he had insisted on wearing to his wedding. The steward did not have time to see that in fact it was completely blunt: before Arnau had taken three steps, he fled upstairs.

Arnau turned back to the others: Mar was laughing, but Joan scowled disapprovingly. Behind them, several of Eleonor’s slaves had seen what had happened and were smiling to themselves as well.

“You over there!” Arnau shouted when he saw them. “Stop laughing and unload the cart. Then take the things up to our rooms.”

BY NOW THEY had been living in the castle for more than a month. Arnau had tried to sort out the affairs of his new possessions, but whenever he began to pore over the account books, he ended by closing them with a sigh. Torn pages, figures scratched out and written over, contradictory or even false dates—they were incomprehensible, completely indecipherable.

It took only a week in Montbui castle for Arnau to long to get back to Barcelona and leave his lands in the hands of a capable administrator. But while he made up his mind, he decided he should get to know them a little better. To do this, he did not turn to the noblemen who were his vassals and who, whenever they came to the castle, completely ignored him but bowed their knee to Eleonor. Instead, he sought out the ordinary people, the peasants, the serfs chained to his vassals.

Taking Mar with him, he toured his lands. He was curious to know if what he had heard in Barcelona was true. The traders there often based their decisions on the news they received from the countryside. Arnau knew, for example, that the 1348 epidemic had depopulated the countryside, and that as recently as the previous year, 1358, a plague of locusts had made the situation even worse by devouring all the crops. The lack of resources was beginning to show even in the city, forcing the traders there to change their way of doing business.

“My God!” muttered Arnau behind the back of the first peasant who had run into his farmhouse to present his family to the new baron.

Mar too found it impossible to take her eyes off the ruin of a house and its outbuildings, all of them as filthy and uncared-for as the man who had come out to greet them, and who now reappeared with a woman and two small children.

The four of them lined up in front of the newcomers and tried awkwardly to bow to them. Their eyes were filled with fear. Their clothes were rags, and the children ... The children could hardly stand up straight. Their legs were spindle-thin.

“Is this all your family?” asked Arnau.

The peasant was about to nod when the sound of a feeble wail came from inside the house. Arnau frowned, and the man shook his head slowly. The look of fear in his eyes changed to one of sadness.

“My wife has no milk, Your Honor.”

Arnau looked at her. How could anyone with a body like that have milk! First she would need to have breasts