Cathedral of the Sea

his vassalage. In that case, we will have no obligation to help him, or to get mixed up in his war against the king of France.”

Barcelona, 1341

NOBLES, CHURCHMEN, AND representatives from the free cities of the principality of Catalonia-the three branches that made up the parliament-had congregated in Barcelona. They filled the city streets with their colorful attire: silks from Almeria, Alexandria, and Damascus; wool from England or Brussels; lace from Flanders, Mechlin, and Orlanda; and the fabulous black linen from Byssus, all of their garments shot through with threads of gold or silver in the most exquisite designs.

Yet Jaime of Mallorca had not arrived. For several days now, boatmen, bastaixos, and all the other port workers had been on standby in case the king of Mallorca appeared. The port of Barcelona was not prepared for the arrival of such great figures: they could hardly be carried from the lowly craft that went out to meet the big ships in the same way the merchants were, in order not to get their clothes wet. Instead, whenever someone important came to Barcelona, the boatmen lined up their craft from the shore to well into the sea, and built a temporary bridge over them to allow kings and princes to disembark with the required dignity.

The bastaixos, including Arnau, had already brought all the necessary planks of wood down to the beach. Like many of the inhabitants of Barcelona and members of the parliament who had congregated on the shore, they scanned the horizon for a glimpse of the lord of Mallorca’s galleys. Everyone was talking about what was going on: the king of Mallorca’s request for aid and King Pedro’s ruse were common knowledge.

“It seems to me,” Arnau said one morning to Father Albert as he was tidying up the candles in the Holy Eucharist chapel, “that if the entire city is aware of what King Pedro is proposing, then King Jaime must know as well: so why would he come?”

“He will not come,” replied the priest, without pausing in his tasks in the chapel.

“What will happen then?” Arnau looked at the priest, who stopped and shrugged nervously.

“I am afraid Catalonia will embark on a war against Mallorca.”

“Another war?”

“Yes. Everybody knows how much King Pedro wishes to reunite the ancient Catalan kingdoms that Jaime the First divided among his heirs. Ever since then, the kings of Mallorca have constantly betrayed the Catalans. It was scarcely fifty years ago that Pedro the Great had to defeat the armies of France and Mallorca at the Col de Panissars. After that victory, he went on to conquer Mallorca, Roussillon, and the Cerdagne, only to be ordered to return them to Jaime the Second by the pope.” The priest turned to face Arnau. “There is going to be war, Arnau. I don’t know when or with what excuse, but there is going to be war.”

Jaime of Mallorca did not appear before the Barcelona parliament. The king allowed him a further three days, but at the end of that time there was still no sight of his galleys in the port of Barcelona.

“There you have the excuse,” Father Albert told Arnau when they met again in the chapel. “I still do not know when, but now there is the excuse.”

When the sessions of parliament had concluded, King Pedro began the legal process to try his vassal for disobedience. He added the accusation that Catalan money was being minted in the territories of Roussillon and the Cerdagne, whereas the royal currency could by right be struck only in Barcelona.

Jaime of Mallorca still did not comply, but the trial, headed by the magistrate of Barcelona, Arnau d’Erill, and assisted by Felip de Montroig and the royal vice chancellor, Arnau Camorera, took place in his absence. Soon, however, the king of Mallorca grew concerned when his envoys informed him of what the outcome could be: the requisition of all his kingdoms and territories. He then turned to the king of France, to whom he paid homage, and to the pope, for them to intercede on his behalf with his brother-in-law King Pedro.

The holy pontiff took his side, and asked King Pedro for a safe conduct for Jaime and his followers to come to Barcelona to present his apologies and to defend himself against the accusations. The king could not go against the pope’s wishes, and so granted Jaime the safe conduct, although he also made sure he sent word to Valencia for them to dispatch four galleys under the command of Mateu Mercer to keep watch on the king of Mallorca’s fleet.

WHEN THE SAILS of the king of Mallorca’s galleys appeared on the horizon, all Barcelona rushed down to the port. The squadron under Mateu Mercer was waiting for them, just as heavily armed. The Barcelona magistrate, Arnau d’Erill, ordered the port workers to start building the pontoon bridge: the boatmen lined up their vessels, and the bastaixos began laying the planks over them.

As soon as the king of Mallorca’s ships had dropped anchor, the remaining boatmen sailed out to the royal galley.

“What’s going on?” asked one of the bastaixos when he saw the royal standard still flying from the ship and only one nobleman disembarking from it.

Arnau and all his companions were already soaked. They all looked across the beach at the magistrate, who in turn was staring at the small boat now approaching the shore.

Just one person made use of the bridge they had constructed: Viscount Evol, a nobleman from Roussillon. He was richly attired and armed, and instead of stepping down onto the beach, he remained standing at the end of the wooden planks.

The magistrate went to meet him. From the sandy shore, he listened to what Lord Evol had to say. The others could see Evol pointing toward Framenors, and then back at the king of Mallorca’s galleys. When the two men had finished talking, the viscount returned to the royal galley, while the magistrate headed up into the city. Soon afterward the magistrate returned, with instructions from King Pedro.

“King Jaime of Mallorca,” he shouted for everyone on the beach to hear, “and his wife, Constanza, queen of Mallorca and sister of our beloved King Pedro, intend to stay in Framenors convent. A fixed wooden bridge, with a roof and covered-in sides, is to be built from where his ships are anchored to the royal apartments.”

At this, a murmur of protest spread along the shore, but the magistrate stifled it with a stern gesture. Most of the workmen turned to look at the convent of Framenors, perched on the edge of the sea.

“This is madness,” Arnau heard one of his companions mutter.

“If a storm blows up,” another one said, “the bridge will never withstand it.”

A bridge with a roof and covered-in sides! Why on earth would the king of Mallorca demand something like that?

Arnau turned back toward the magistrate, and saw Berenguer de Montagut arriving on the beach. Arnau d’Erill