Granada (10 page)

Umm Hasan was so distracted with worry over her son's absence and her relief of his safe return that she barely comprehended what Hasan was telling her. Umm Jaafar, on the other hand, understood only too well as her face grew pale and agitated, mustering only enough strength to say, "May God give you good fortune, my son, and make you victorious. For He is capable of all things." Saleema was the only one who reacted to the news with enthusiasm as she sat skittishly on the edge of her seat, insisting that her brother sit and tell her every single detail of what happened at the mosque, probing as though she were one of the men. In the middle of his story, Naeem rushed in and told him that the men who formed the blockade around the cardinal's residence had returned. The two men dashed out, heedless of Saleema's questions and deaf to Umm Hasan's futile pleas to Hasan not to leave.

At the Bunoud Gate the crowd formed a circle around the returning men to hear what happened and to ask questions.

"We pelted his house with stones and hurled a slew of insults."

"Why didn't you break into the residence?"

"Believe me, we tried. But the gates were impenetrable and the house is like a fortress."

"How about the windows?"

"We managed to smash the glass out of all of them, and the pieces came crashing down right before our eyes."

"And that dog didn't show his face?"

"Never! He stayed inside like a bat in his cave, so we decided to surround the palace until hunger and thirst forced him to come out."

"So, what happened and why did you come back?"

"The Castilian army surrounded us. They far outnumbered us, and they were armed and we weren't. Then we huddled in consultation. Should we take them on and fight, putting ourselves in God's hands and die as martyrs, or is there an alternative? When
Count Tendilla appeared on his magnificent, ashen-colored stallion, he dismounted and shouted in a loud, forceful voice, 'Who represents you? It is only your leader I will address.'

"No one among us responded, since we all came together, and there was neither a leader nor a follower amongst us. When he repeated the question, four of the men stepped forward and approached him. They listened to what he had to say, and they came back. They told us he asked them to lift the blockade from the cardinal's residence at once. He said, 'I personally will go to Albaicin tomorrow and speak with your comrades, and I will put an end to this problem.'

"We told him we would hold our ground until he departed, and that if our leaders responded favorably, and if he acceded to their demands, then we would lift the blockade from the cardinal's residence. The four men conveyed our message to him and came back with his reply:'Either you lift the blockade first, or else we will remove you by force. You're nothing but a little gang of unarmed men. And here you see our troops, horsemen, and foot soldiers, armed to the teeth.'

"We consulted with one another and decided to end the blockade. Did we make a mistake?"

It was Saad who had accompanied the young men to the cardinal's residence and it was he who asked this question, "Did we make a mistake?" Nobody dared answer even though their eyes responded with bewildered glances.

At that moment the children who had climbed the walls and towers erupted in shouts when they spotted a battalion of the Castilian cavalry approaching the gates of the city. The air grew tense and everyone turned to thoughts of what he had to do. Some of them fortified the barricades, and some rolled out the weapons. Others, like Naeem, climbed the walls carrying stones and insults that they would hurl at those bastard sons who wanted to attack the quarter. Stones and curses came flying in every direction, and the knights who were able to protect themselves from them and arrive safely to the gates found them bolted shut. Drawing together on
their horses and forming a circle, they withdrew amidst the shrill clamor that mixed shouts of anger, cries of joy, insults, spitting, and praise and thanks to God.

Another restless night passed in Albaicin, oscillating between slumber and sleeplessness, between hard work and a grueling silence. The forty men elected to put Albaicin's affairs in order never had the chance to shut an eye, much less even think about it. They spent the night deliberating over what they would say to Count Tendilla if he came to negotiate as he had promised, or what they would do if the Castilian army attempted an assault on the quarter. They also had to manage the affairs of a hundred thousand citizens of Albaicin, and in the event of a siege that could last several weeks or months, would there be enough flour and grain to feed them? Since the road to the Darro was cut off, would the wells discharge sufficient water? Would it be necessary to ration basic staples, or to smuggle out messages to those hiding in the mountains? How could they send messages requesting help to the North Africans and Egyptians, or to the Ottoman sultan Bayzid? In the event of an attack on the quarter and the outburst of fighting, would they open the northeast gates to let the women, children, and elderly escape and seek refuge in some faraway place, or would wisdom dictate that they remain behind the barricades under the protection of their menfolk entrenched behind the gates?

On the following day Count Tendilla arrived as promised and met with the members of the newly elected government. "Your uprising against the king and queen is an act of rebellion that will be seriously punished," he warned.

"The conditions of the treaty that the king and queen both signed and to which they committed themselves have been violated. You force us to convert to Christianity against our will, burn our books, and molest our women," they retorted.

"Calm down, and return to your work, and we will consider your grievances."

"Expel Ximenes from Granada, for it is he who ordered our
books to be burned and forced al-Thaghri to convert after months of torture. He is the source of all our misery. Our condition is that he must leave."

"If you don't open the gates, we will storm Albaicin by force."

"Get rid of Ximenes and abide by the treaty, and the gates will be opened."

Tendilla mounted his horse and departed, followed by his cavalry guards. A sense of relief mixed with a tinge of pride filled the crowd, for the gates of Albaicin remained closed, the barricades were still standing, and they were capable of persevering, of holding their ground without compromise.

The negotiations lasted a number of days during which Count Tendilla came back and forth several times. Then he appeared with Archbishop Talavera, the first to pass through Bunoud Gate smiling his familiar smile. Tendilla followed, and removing his skullcap and waving it in the air, the crowd began to whisper among themselves, "He wants peace." A little boy ran over and picked up the count's red cap and lifted it up to him. The count smiled and the little boy smiled back. The governor of Granada and the archbishop spoke with the forty officials as well as some of the leading merchants and jurists.

"Let us live in peace," said the count. "Let this crisis pass. What you have done is not an act of rebellion against the Crown of Castile. You wanted only the implementation of the treaty, and as a concession we give you our assurances that we will abide by it."

"From whom do we get such assurances?"

"From me, personally," responded the archbishop.

"In what way?" they asked.

"There must be trust between us," said Tendilla. He stood silent for a moment, then continued. "I will have my wife and children live here in Albaicin amongst you. Will this suffice as a guarantee? Then it's settled. On this very day my family will move here to live with you, and today the gates will be opened, you will put down your weapons, and you will return to your work."

The count, his bodyguards, the archbishop and his servants departed, and the crowd remained intact, stunned and speechless. Eventually, the news spread rapidly, and the women who hadn't left their homes learned about it even as they kept busy feeding their babies and washing the clothes. Should they believe the count or what their own hearts were telling them? And why didn't their newly elected government say anything? Could it be possible that Tendilla would sacrifice his own wife and children? The man must be trustworthy, yet their hearts were needlessly aflutter with doubt.

The treaty was ratified, and the doors of the abandoned palace next to the Albaicin Mosque were swung open to let in the fresh air and sunshine. The huge, spacious rooms witnessed a frantic hustle in preparation for the arrival of the count's family. Yet, in spite of it all, the gleam had been extinguished from the people's eyes and the grimaces on their faces expressed the tension they felt as they made no effort to hide or remove the gloom permeating their souls. The young men began to take down the barricades and remove the huge bolts off the gates. The high-pitched squeaking of the bolts sent a shiver to their souls, and the droning sound of the opening gates only added to their inner turmoil.

Every hour seemed heavy and every day depressing, and they were at a loss to understand why they felt this way, even though the crisis had passed and the archbishop, whom they held in high esteem, guaranteed that they be treated with kindness and respect. They didn't know whence those ravens of ill-omen, which cawed in the skies and tainted the air with their blackish color, came. Their hearts were obstinate in their misgivings, but the residents of Albaicin mistrusted their own hearts. But time proved their hearts right. The Castilians demanded vengeance for Barrionuevo's death, and the judge complied by handing over his killer. But not satisfied with the one, they returned and arrested three more. The gallows were erected and the bodies of four young men were left hanging. Everyone knew that the next strike would be against the forty elected officials, and soon thereafter the rumor circulated that they
had headed for the hills. Some condemned their escape while others defended them.

"Should they have sat around and waited for the noise to be tied around their necks?"

A small number of people you could count on one hand saw this as an auspicious sign, and they began counting the days.

7

A
fter Abu Jaafar died, Saad went to work at Abu Mansour's bathhouse. Naeem found work with a cobbler who taught him the trade. He learned quickly, and the first thing he did was make a pair of shoes for Saad. When Saad asked him why he didn't make a pair for himself, he evaded the question at first, but then decided to come forth. "I couldn't make another pair without my boss noticing the leather and nails missing."

The two friends met up every day, as was their habit, and sat either by the bathhouse or outside the cobbler's shop after closing time. Sometimes they would take a stroll throughout the quarter, just chatting.

Saad spoke endlessly about his love for Saleema and his desire to ask for her hand in marriage. But he was afraid of being rejected. Naeem listened to him without ever breathing a word of his feelings of anxiety that grew by the day. At first he would make fun of Saad, and Saad responded in kind. God created Naeem with a tender heart that swayed like a branch with every passing breeze. Then he laid eyes on the captive girl in the parade and she stole his heart. But where had she gone, God only knew! She disappeared and left only her phantom to haunt his days and nights.
¹
He would curse her and the day he first set eyes on her, and he swore that he would fall in love with the first girl who caught his eye. But through all the young girls who passed before him, he could only see the phantom,
as clearly in dreams as in wakefulness. But poor Saad was a late bloomer, and when he fell in love it struck a heavy blow. Whenever he found himself in Saleema's presence he froze like a statue. But now, with Naeem nineteen and Saad twenty, they couldn't afford to remain like this much longer, or else they'd both end up growing old and rejected, even by snickering young girls.

1. The phantom of the lover is a popular motif in classical Arabic poetry, and also was believed to exist by pre-Islamic Arabians.

"Put your trust in God, Saad, and ask Abu Mansour to arrange your engagement to her."

When Saad broached the subject with Abu Mansour, the old man reacted skeptically.

"Do you think these are times suitable for getting married and raising families? I swear by God of the Kaaba that every night I tell myself, if only you hadn't gotten married! If you hadn't had a wife to provide for and take care of, you would be free of your subjugation, free to plunge a dagger into the heart of a Castilian, or plunge yourself into the river to relieve your mind and calm your soul."

The following week Abu Mansour came to Saad while he was cleaning the bathhouse. "I went to Abu Jaafar's house and spoke with Hasan. He'll give me his answer in two days."

Saad stood petrified with broom in hand, and when what he had just heard sank in, the broom fell to the floor. He rushed forward and kissed Abu Mansour on the forehead and shoulders and dashed out like a madman toward the cobbler's shop. Naeem was leaning over the anvil attaching a leather sole to a sandal with a small hammer. He was too absorbed in what he was doing to notice Saad coming. He was startled when he heard his friend's voice and the hammer fell out of his hand and struck his thumb.

"When did you come, and what's going on?" he shouted.

"Abu Mansour has interceded on my behalf and asked for Saleema's hand!"

Naeem jumped up and, in his excitement, once again dropped the hammer, this time on his foot. He yelled out in pain but his joy at the news made him laugh. "I will dance so much at your wedding that people will remember it when they're old and gray!"

After Abu Mansour left the house, Hasan wondered if Abu Jaafar would approve of this marriage had he been alive. He anticipated his mother's negative reaction, protesting that Saad was too poor and deprived, owning only the shirt on his back and his daily bread. He also imagined his grandfather retorting that they, too, were in similar dire circumstances, and that Saad was a decent young man who would take good care of Saleema, so on what basis could he refuse Saad's request? And Saleema? Hasan paused a moment as though caught off guard. Saleema was unpredictable. She could rejoice at the idea of the marriage proposal and she was equally capable of flatly and adamantly refusing, with no one in any position to change her mind. He could never figure her out. She was the only young girl he knew well, and he often asked himself was it just her, or did she have the incomprehensible nature of all young girls.

The first person he confided in was his grandmother. "If she agrees," she answered, "then it will be with God's blessing. These are difficult times, and Saad is good and decent. We won't have to worry about waking up one morning and discovering that he turned his back on us and went to serve the Castilians."

"But would Grandfather have given his consent?"

"God only knows, my son."

That evening Hasan and his grandmother sat down with Saleema and Umm Hasan.

"Today Abu Mansour came to see me, and he asked me for Saleema's hand in marriage to Saad."

"Saad?" asked Umm Hasan with a tone of surprise mixed with a tinge of disapproval.

"What do you say, Mother?" asked Hasan.

"Why does he want Saleema? He's from Malaga, so let him go and find a girl from a family from his own city to marry."

"What kind of talk is this, Mother? What's wrong with Saad?"

"What's wrong with him is his poverty, and the fact that he
doesn't have a family we know and who can reassure us, not to mention . . ."