The History of the Siege of Lisbon

to this land, yours, and for the present still that of the Moors. The king conferred once more with the Archbishop and the Bishop, and, having all three agreed, he told them, Now then, listen.

The telephone rang. It has one of those old-fashioned bells that are enough to awaken the dead, and Raimundo Silva was so deeply lost in thought, that the unexpected fright caused his hand to jerk leaving a scrawl on the paper, as if the world had suddenly accelerated and skidded beneath his pen. He waited, then asked, Who is speaking, and immediately recognised the voice of the telephonist at the publishers, I'm putting you through to Dr Maria Sara's extension, she replied. As he waited, he looked at his watch, ten to six, How the time has passed quickly, it was true, the time had passed quickly, but to think it had no other purpose than to serve as a precarious safeguard, like a screen of thin smoke scattered and swept away by the breeze, while Raimundo Silva pauses to think, How the time has passed quickly, that other time, this one into which he had suddenly been launched, would give him the illusion of allowing himself to slow down, a pause sustained on a vibration, his right hand appearing to tremble slightly as it rests on the paper. Then he could hear the telephonist, incorrigible as ever, say, You're connected Dr Maria Sara, Raimundo Silva clenched his fist, time became blurred, confused, then became diffused, flowed in its natural current, Good afternoon, Senhor Raimundo Silva, Good afternoon, Dr Maria Sara, How have you been, Fine, and how are things with you, Going very well, thank you, I'm still organising the work here, and I simply wanted to ask you how you are getting on with the proofs of that book of poems we gave you, I've just finished correcting the proofs this very minute, I have been working on them all day and can bring them to your office tomorrow, Ah, so you've been working on them all day, Well not quite all day, I spent about two hours reading the novel Senhor Costa left with me, You've had a busy day, In fact I have nothing better to do, An interesting phrase, Perhaps, but it was unintentional, it slipped out without my thinking, There's probably some advantage in this, What do you mean by this, To speak without thinking, to act without thinking, On the contrary, I've always considered myself a reflective person, that is how I see myself, someone who reflects on things, Even though given to impulses, Do me a favour, Dr Sara, if I'm to be subjected to constant reminders about past errors, I'd better look for work with some other publishing house, Forgive me, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I promise not to say another word on the subject, Many thanks, Now then, why don't you bring me those proofs tomorrow, and as for the novel, once you have another free day to devote to reading, perhaps you might be able to finish the work and deliver it without delay, Don't worry, it won't take me long, I'm not in the least worried, I know I can rely on your cooperation, I've never let anyone down who put their trust in me, Then you won't disappoint me, Trust me, Until tomorrow Senhor Raimundo Silva, Until tomorrow, Dr Sara. The hand holding the telephone glided slowly through the air, descended slowly, and after replacing the receiver lingered there, as if reluctant to be separated from it or awaiting some word that could not be spoken. Raimundo Silva would have done better to concern himself with those words that had been uttered, for example, anyone else would have seen that Dr Maria Sara was not convinced that he had spent the whole day working on the book of poems, even allowing for the feasible assumption that he had devoted two hours to reading the novel, however since she had no possible means of knowing how he had occupied his time during the day, she resorted to guessing, typical of women, all of them think of themselves as being sybils and sorceresses, and end up deceiving themselves like the most common of those feeble men whom they generally regard with ironic and indulgent benevolence. But what troubled Raimundo Silva most of all was that she should have said, and in all seriousness, without altering her tone of voice, Then you won't disappoint me, obviously she was only referring to the more than proven professional competence of someone who throughout his working life, pardon the repetition, but this is always overlooked, the working life of someone who only made one mistake, and the same was discovered, acknowledged and fortunately excused. Now then, having clearly excluded those motives of a more intimate nature which relations between them rule out from the outset, that leaves the strong possibility of an indirect reference to that famous suggestion that he should write A New History of the Siege of Lisbon, a suggestion to which he found himself doubly committed, not just because he had already made a start on the work, but also because he had replied just as seriously, Trust me, and at that moment he did not know what he was saying.

Raimundo Silva looked at the sheet of paper, Listen, then picked up his biro to carry on with the narrative, but realised that his mind was vacant, yet another blank page, or one covered with indecipherable alternatives or crossings-out. Given the declaration made by Dom Afonso Henriques, all that remained for him to do was to relate the miracle of Ourique in his own words, introducing, as you might expect, a predictable note of modern scepticism, authorised moreover by the great Herculano de Carvalho, and giving free rein to the language, without overdoing it, because proof-readers tend not to take all that many risks with texts closely scrutinised by public opinion. The tension, however, had been broken, or been substituted by another, perhaps the impulse would return later, during the hours of night, like some new inspiration, without which we can achieve nothing according to those who should know. Raimundo Silva has heard that in similar cases it is preferable not to force what we call nature, to allow the body to follow the soul's weariness, above all that they should not fight each other, however heroic and edifying tales of such battles may be, and this is wise advice, although not that most favoured by those who have firm ideas about what each of us should do, even though they themselves are not inclined to put them into practice. The king continues to say, Now then, listen, but it is a cracked disk that turns round and round, hypnotically turning round. Raimundo Silva rubs his tired eyes, the page in his brain is blank, the paper page is half-written, with his right hand he reaches out for The Chronicle of Dom Afonso Henriques written by Fray Antonio Brandao, which will serve to guide him when, tonight or tomorrow, he resumes the narrative, and, incapable of writing at present, he reads in order to acquaint himself with the details of this mythical episode, he is on the second chapter, The gifts brought by the courageous prince, Dom Afonso Henriques, were not of sufficient quality to allow him to rest, nor did his thoughts occupied with the greatness of the enterprise in hand give him much cause for tranquillity and reassurance. And so to shake off his disquiet, he took up the Holy Bible which he kept in his tent, and on starting to read, the first thing he came across was the victory of Gideon, the illustrious leader of the Jewish people, who with three hundred soldiers routed the four Midianite kings and their armies, putting to the sword a hundred and twenty thousand men, not counting the even greater number who perished in the end. Delighted with the outcome of this encounter, and treating this victory as an auspicious forecast of further triumphs, he became even more determined to wage war and, with inflamed heart, his eyes turned towards Heaven, he poured out the following words: As you well know, my Lord Jesus Christ, it was in your service and in order to exalt your holy name that I embarked on this war against your enemies; You, who are all powerful, help me to win this war, inspire and fortify my soldiers so that we may overcome these enemies who blaspheme your most holy name. Having thus spoken, he fell into a gentle slumber, and began to dream that he was seeing an old man of venerable appearance, who told him not to lose heart because he would undoubtedly win that battle, and as a clear sign of God's love and favour he would see the Saviour of the World with his own eyes before entering into battle. Lulled as he was into this pleasant dream, neither fully asleep or fully awake, his aide Joao Fernandes de Sousa entered the tent and informed him that an old man had arrived seeking an audience, and as far as one could tell, it was a matter of some importance. The prince ordered that if he were a Christian, he should be brought before him, and the moment he saw him, he recognised him as being the same old man he had just seen in his dreams and this greatly consoled him. The venerable old man repeated to the prince the same words he had heard in his dream, and confirming his victory and the appearance of Christ, he added that he should have every confidence in the Lord who loved him, and who would cast his merciful eyes on him and his descendants unto the sixteenth generation, when his descent would dwindle, but even then the Lord would watch over, and protect them. In the name of that same Lord he warned him that on the following night when he heard the bell ring at the hermitage where he had been living for the last sixty years, under the special protection of the Almighty, he should leave the camp, because God wished to show him the greatness of his mercy. On hearing this sovereign message, the Catholic prince received it with all due respect and with the deepest humility gave infinite thanks to God. The old man took his leave and returned to his hermitage, and the prince, awaiting the promised sign, spent the night in Fervent prayer until the second vigil, when he heard the bell ring; then taking up his shield and sword he went outside the encampment, and, raising his eyes to heaven, he saw the most glorious resplendence towards the east, which gradually spread and grew bigger. In the middle he could see the redeeming sign of the Holy Cross, and nailed thereon the Redeemer of the world, surrounded by a throng of angels, in the guise of the most handsome youths dressed in shining white robes, and the prince noticed that the Cross was enormous and raised some cubits from the ground. Startled by this wondrous vision, and with the fear and reverence due in the presence of the Saviour, the prince laid down his arms, removed his royal robes, and prostrated himself barefoot on the ground and, with much weeping, he began to beseech the Lord to protect his vassals, and said: What merits have you found, my God, in so great a sinner, that you should favour me with such sovereign mercy? If You are doing this in order to increase my faith, it seems unnecessary,