John Masters (18 page)

"What has that to do with you?" the Negro growled. He stared at the two of them suspiciously, as though trying to remember where he had seen them before.

Judah snapped his fingers, and Pedro dropped a coin into the Negro's hand. "Important business," Judah said. "I am a shipowner and merchant. It is urgent."

The Negro disappeared. The door slammed. They waited.

"Perhaps she is like one of those loud-voiced partridges men put out as decoys to bring other game down," Pedro said cheerfully. "We shall get our throat cut."

After five minutes the door opened, and the Negro reappeared with a brief "Come." He led them down a passage and round an inner patio, where a fountain played, flowers grew in blue and yellow pots, and caged birds sang. There was also a redlegged partridge on a long tether, pecking for corn upon the grass. Pedro nudged Judah and muttered, "See?" In a cool room the other side, under a gently waving palm fan worked by a young girl—black, lovely, unveiled—a thin man sat on a pile of leather cushions.

Judah bowed. "The honorable Suleiman Qureshi? The great merchant, whose fame has spread to Fez and all the coasts of Africa?"

"I am Suleiman Qureshi," the man answered. He was bald and gray-skinned, with a pendulous lower lip. His eyes were small, dark, and alert. "You are the Jew shipowner of Tarifa. But how can you benefit me? We are rivals, not collaborators."

Judah bowed again and came to the point. The worth of a female slave, young and in good condition, was about 120 dinars here or in Morocco, rather more in Granada. He must offer more, because the fact of his coming proved that he badly wanted the girl. He said, "You have a slave of my faith here called Tova Hassan. She has not betrayed you, but I chanced to see her. I wish to marry her and will buy her from you for two hundred and fifty dinars."

There was a long silence. The black fan girl's eyes rolled, and her teeth flashed. The bodyguard moved his bare feet on the tiles. The water tinkled more loudly in the patio. A reflection from the sky glowed red on Qureshi's bald head.

"No," he said.

Judah snapped a finger. Pedro pulled a silk purse out of his fob, opened it, and poured a torrent of heavy ten-dinar pieces onto the low table in front of Qureshi. Judah knew that there were fifty of them, five hundred dinars in all, borrowed from Chaim Uziel the banker.

"No," Qureshi said.

Pedro scraped up the coins, poured them back into the purse, and put the purse away. Judah said stolidly, "You must love her very greatly."

Qureshi smiled thinly. "No, Jew, it's not that. Do you remember buying a number of singularly excellent carpets in Larache two years ago? In spite of being warned that they had been promised to the wazir of the King of Granada?"

Judah remembered at once. The man who had threatened him had obviously not expected any competition, and when Judah had bought the carpets at a fair price, he had gone off scowling and muttering about Jewish dogs. He must have been an agent of this Suleiman Qureshi. If Qureshi wanted revenge, it was no use offering him money, so Judah bowed and said, "I recall the occasion perfectly. Now, with your permission..."

The thin man's eye glittered in the failing light. "Are you sure you won't bid higher, Messer Conquy? She is small, but between the thighs, aiiih, what a fire burns!"

Judah stepped forward and pushed the merchant backward off his piled cushions. Pedro drew his sword and pointed it at the Negro. "We go," Judah snapped. "Do not hinder us." The merchant began to shout and rave; footsteps and answering shouts echoed high in the house. Judah and Pedro ran across the courtyard, down the passage, and out into the open.

The sun had set, and in the town a few lamps showed against the twilight. "That was a bold answer," Pedro said, "though it may lead us to the bastinado."

"I couldn't help myself," Judah said. They hurried on toward the harbor, walking now, but fast. The Water Gate was still open, and they went out onto the jetty. At the gangplank of the
Gaditana
the captain said, "We've just finished unloading, Judah."

Judah saw Manuel Barrachina on the deck. There was no reason to wait. "Sail at once," he said and ran aboard.

A sailor was hauling the gangplank in when a figure appeared out of the gloom and called, "Stay! Where are you bound?"

"Tarifa," the captain answered.

"Allow me passage, please. I will pay well," the man said. He was richly dressed in black, his face hidden.

"Come on, then. Five dirhams."

The man stepped on board and paid the money. The captain pointed to the hatch, and the passenger went below. Five minutes later, the sail billowing, the
Gaditana
slid past the end of the jetty, eastbound.

Judah called for wine and sat down on a coil of rope. "What in the name of St. Thomas were you doing all day?" Manuel Barrachina asked. "The sailors have been telling me all manner of strange tales. What is the truth?"

"I'll tell you in a moment," Judah said, "but first what of you?"

"Nothing," Manuel said. "They kept me waiting two hours, then told me to come back, and when I did, said the governor was sick and asked me to give my message to an assistant. I refused. I think the governor's not in Gibraltar at all. So I have wasted my day."

"Except that you've seen el Penon, which your master the Duke swears he's going to get back one day," Pedro said. "Now,
I'll
tell you what mad pranks this Judah Conquy, whom we all thought was just a rough merchant, with no thought in his head beyond trade, has been dragging me into...."

Judah drank and watched the bulk of the Rock fade into the darkness, and the dim point of light on the southern point vanished while his friend, with great animation, told of their adventures and misadventures. But he was not listening. His mind was full of her, of how he could free her.

An oil lantern burned day and night on the end of the stone jetty at Tarifa. Shortly after it came into view, the passenger appeared on deck and walked aft. He peered at them in the dark. "Who is the principal authority in Tarifa, gentlemen?" He spoke a poor Castilian, but easy to understand.

"The Duke of Medina Sidonia's agent," Manuel said. "The alcalde, the mayor," Pedro said. "For he is a servant of the king."

The Moor looked from one to another. "The alcalde," Judah said, "Don Alonzo Arcos, a most respected and honest gentleman. I'll guide you to his home."

Shortly afterward the captain brought the
Gaditana
alongside. Judah took the Moor to the Casa Consistorial—Don Alonzo lived behind it—and went back to his own rooms above his warehouse on the waterfront. His housekeeper tried to make him eat, but he would not. For hours he paced the floor, thinking of one plan after another to gain Tova Hassan and, one after another, rejecting them. An hour before dawn he flung himself on his bed. Before his eyes closed someone knocked on the door, and a voice called, "Judah Conquy!" He leaned out of the window. The man said, "Come at once to the Casa Consistorial."

A dozen men were already gathered in the hall of audience upstairs, with lamps lit and curtains drawn. The alcalde sat in his big chair, a tall, fork-bearded Moor beside him—the passenger from Gibraltar. Gathered around them were other shipowners, captains, a few knights, Manuel Barrachina, and the parish priest.

The alcalde said, "Come close, Messer Conquy. Pray silence, gentlemen.... An affair of great moment has come upon me. This Moor, Ali el Curro, is a nobleman of Gibraltar. Wronged by the governor, the wrong not redressed by their king, he fled secretly today from his post as deputy commander of the fortress. He wishes to become a Christian...."

"The Holy Ghost be praised!" the priest cried, crossing himself.

"... and he says that if we act before the day after tomorrow, two hundred men can seize Gibraltar."

A dead silence suddenly fell, louder than any noise. It lasted long seconds, then everyone spoke at once
—
Impossible! ... A miracle ... A trick
...
We must go at once
...
Wait!

The alcalde raised his hand. "The governor of the fortress, all the knights except one, and most of the soldiers have gone to Malaga to pay homage to their king, who is visiting there. Gibraltar is almost without defenders."

The clamor broke out again, some arguing for and some against the idea, but the alcalde, a man who imposed by dignity rather than force, said quietly, "A state of war exists between our king and the King of Granada, even though there are many peaceful exchanges. So we will not be committing any treachery in making a surprise attack. We have good reasons ... we all know of the losses suffered by the duke and many other citizens. But there is an object greater than gold here, gentlemen. Two jewels are missing from the circlet of Don Enrique's crown —Granada and Gibraltar. I cannot sit idle here when the chance is offered to me of winning back one of them. I will therefore go to take Gibraltar, either tomorrow night or the next. I call upon you to provide men, for as you know, I can command no more than fifty of our own here. How many will each of you give, and when can they be here? And from you, shipmasters—how many ships, and how many men and horses will each carry?"

"I'll go!" Judah cried. "I have two ships in port." Here it was, the answer he had sought for in vain, presented to him like a gift from God! He jumped with excitement.

The alcalde smiled, raising his hand slightly. "Thank you, Messer Judah. But let us talk of the soldiers first...." Manuel Barrachina spoke up at once. "The duke has forty horse and forty foot here in his castle. In the absence of my master the agent, who is with the duke, I pledge them all. But I must add that Gibraltar is, and will be, a part of the duke's domains, not of His Majesty's."

"That is not for such as you and me to settle, Messer Barrachina," the alcalde said gravely. "I have your promise of the soldiers. That is all I need."

The old knight Don Carlos Fuentes then promised twenty men-at-arms, and the young knight Don Fernando Ponce de Leon, a nephew of the Count of Arcos, as many; and others promised horsemen until the total stood at eighty horse and one hundred and eighty foot.

"That will be enough," the alcalde said. "But I shall send messengers galloping to the king, the duke, the Lord of Jerez, and the Count of Arcos, entreating all to send more men immediately. For once we have taken the fortress, we must be prepared to hold it against a counterattack by the Moors."

Young Ponce de Leon said, "My uncle the count will not weaken himself by sending more soldiers unless the duke sends as many."

"The Lord of Jerez will say the same regarding the count," old Don Carlos said.

"For this jewel of Gibraltar, these feuds must be forgotten," the alcalde said. "So, gentlemen, do you go to it, that men and horses with their arms and food for three days may be gathered here by nightfall. And let no word be spoken abroad of this matter or the reason for the movements.... Shipmasters and captains, pray come close...."

Six ships sailed before midnight, having waited an hour for the wind to veer sufficiently into the southwest. The
Gaditana
led the little flotilla, with the alcalde on board, also Ali el Curro the renegade Moor, Judah Conquy, and Pedro Santangel, full of excitement at the prospect of knightly action. The
Sevillana
followed with Manuel Barrachina and many of the duke's men. Behind came the
Santa Cruz, Santa Fe, Tiburon,
and
Angula
with the rest. The Atlantic swell steadily lessened as the vessels passed into the gut of the strait, but several soldiers were already seasick, and the horses on deck kept stamping and shifting their hoofs, unhappy with the constantly changing balance. The ships carried no riding lights, only a small lantern, shielded from the front, on the poop. The moon slid irregularly in and out of low, luminescent clouds. It was a hot night.

Judah stood in the bow so that he could be nearer to Gibraltar and Tova Hassan, and though he knew he would not see the light on the point for two or three hours, he kept staring into the darkness until when he did see it, not one but two lights wavered before his eyes. Gradually then the bulk of the Rock took shape, a black lion crouching against the sky. Three hours after leaving Tarifa, that is, at two o'clock on the morning of August 20, 1462, the captain of the
Gaditana
ran her up onto the sand of a cove on the western side of Gibraltar, near the southern point. The others followed to right and left, the sailors put out the improvised ramps, and men and horses began to splash ashore. An hour later, having scrambled up the steep slope out of the cove and mustered on the flatter ground above, the little force started north for the town and fortress. The alcalde strode ahead, Ali el Curro as guide at his side, Judah and Pedro following, then the men-at-arms, the horsemen last.

After half an hour Ali el Curro said, "We are close to the southern wall now, Alcalde, and it is near dawn. Let us stop here in the woods, for at the first light three soldiers come out of the town—one high up the hill, one opposite here, one near the sea, to search the ground and report that no enemies are concealed close to the walls."

The old knight Don Carlos said, "Lay an ambush, Alcalde, and take these scouts prisoner. Torture them separately, as to the truth of what this Moor says. Then we shall know whether this tale of the few soldiers and one knight is true or false."

"I speak the truth," the Moor said stiffly, but the other knights and Manuel Barrachina all agreed with Don Carlos. So it was done; men-at-arms went up and down, outside the wall, ready to seize the scouts when they came out. Then the light slowly spread, and Judah and the rest, hiding in the trees, saw in front of them the red wall climbing from the sea to the mountain, and gates in it, minarets and roofs beyond, and at the far side of the town Judah saw the house of Suleiman Qureshi, where Tova Hassan was, and gazed at it as though he could pierce the wall just by looking.

The Moorish soldiers came out, as Ali el Curro had said, and were taken prisoner and tortured a little. All separately swore, weeping, that there were no knights but one and few soldiers in the castle, and none in the town. Then the alcalde marched his army out of the woods and ordered the standards to be set up—the flags of Castile; of the house of Medina Sidonia, borne by a soldier at Manuel Barrachina's side; of the Count of Arcos, borne by the squire of Don Fernando Ponce de Leon. The light glittered on iron helmet and cuirass, sword and mace and halberd. The alcalde drew his sword and carried the hilt to his Ups. "For God and Castile," he cried. "Advance!"