Granada (6 page)

"Long live Christopher Columbus! Long live Christopher Columbus!"

The bearded horseman raised his black cap and with it waved to greet the crowds. He flashed a broad smile as though he were a king of kings. Saleema shouted, consumed by excitement, "They say that the land he discovered is full of gold and silver, and that he's now on his way to Barcelona to offer the king and queen the treasures he found."

"Why doesn't he keep the treasures for himself?" Hasan asked.

"They don't belong to him."

"Why not?" Hasan asked.

She answered, "The king and queen gave him the money he needed for the trip. It's as if they lent it to him to make the trip. Look, Saad, look!"

When the battalion of horsemen following the admiral passed, there appeared rows of men carrying large cages of magnificent birds of the most extraordinary colors. Some of the birds were as small as sparrows, others the size of parrots, and some were as large as geese. There were birds with gigantic talons the likes of which no one had ever seen. Some had exquisite crests that looked like crowns. Then next in the parade came men bearing glass chests through which you could see exotic creatures: huge spiders, giant
snakes, and gruesome reptiles that made you frightened at the mere sight of them. The people followed the procession awestruck, riveted by something between excitement and fear of the strange new world that this grand knight had discovered.

And then, as though the organizers of the parade wanted the spectators to hold their breath, a group of men carrying all sorts of plants and vegetation marched, and soon the streets were adorned with palm leaves, not those of the familiar kinds, but branches of trees of unknown species. There were fruits in a brown shell that looked like wool, and some with peels as though they were cut from the trunk of a palm tree. Next came men carrying glass chests similar to those that passed by not too long before and through which you could see as plain as day what was inside, shimmering in the sunlight and dazzling to the eye. A woman shouted out, "It's gold, pure gold!" The shout was repeated as the people stood speechless, with hearts pounding anxiously and eyes widening to get a better look at the chests that encased the pure gold. Sand of gold, whole slabs of solid gold, large ingots no one could have ever possibly imagined in his or her wildest dreams.

"Long live Christopher Columbus," a woman cried out. This time the cry was repeated but not as enthusiastically as it had been before, perhaps because the surprise and excitement had sapped much of the people's bodily strength.

"It's not a new world," Saleema cried out to her companions, "it s just a different world, and that's all there is to it."

The parade's amazing attractions were not quite over. As the procession continued, the captives appeared, and whispers spread rapidly through the rows of spectators. "It's the natives, there they are, the inhabitants of the new world!" They walked along slowly, hands tied behind their backs while the guards surrounded them on both sides. They had delicate features and slender, fragile bodies. The men, like the women, had long, flowing jet-black hair that came down to the shoulders. Yet underneath the Castilian clothing they were made to wear, their differentness was all too obvious, not only in their physical features and the look in their eyes, but also in
the colored feathers that stuck out of the bands they wore around their heads. Although strange indeed, they were not at all repulsive to look at. On the contrary, they were attractive in their refined faces and their graceful physiques, or perhaps in something else about them. Many of the Spaniards were laughing. Saleema turned to Saad and asked, "What are they laughing about?"

"I don't know." The laughter also took Saad by surprise. At first it baffled him, and then it made him angry.

"Saad, do you see that girl?" Naeem asked.

"Which one?"

"The prisoner who's wearing the white robe?" Naeem pointed to a young woman thin as a rail who had stumbled and fallen down, but when one of the guards rushed forward and tried to help her get up, she pushed him away with her shoulder and regained her balance, standing up by herself although her hands were chained, and continued to walk.

"I wonder what her name is?"

"How should I know?"

"If only I knew her name!"

The procession went forth immersed in a cacophony of rattling tambourines and beating drums, while the whistling of flutes mixed with the roar of discharging artillery and the boisterous guffaws of the masses. But the four youngsters were dumbfounded by the fact that all the cheer that was bursting in their hearts had mysteriously disappeared. They hadn't noticed that it slipped away and was now replaced with a melancholy that seemed to overtake the entire parade. They watched in silence the cuffed hands behind the backs of the captives, the slow, deliberate pace, the bowed heads, and those sudden, furtive looks that stared them right in the eye whenever a captive looked at them and they at him.

"Why don't we go home?" Saleema suggested.

"Let's go. Where's Naeem?"

They stood there for a while and waited for him to come back. But the longer they waited, the more anxious they became. Saad wanted to go and look for him but felt constrained by the promise
he made to Abu Jaafar not to leave the children alone, not even for a blink of the eye. They waited some more and then Saad decided that they should go back.

"Let's go back to Albaicin. Hopefully Naeem will have already gotten there before us." Saad didn't reveal to them, however, his intention to come back and look for his friend. On the way home, Hasan and Saleema kept assuring themselves that Naeem had gone back into town, and Saad was quick to agree with them that was most likely what had happened. But deep down he didn't believe a word of it, and his heart grew heavy with worry.

Silently they walked through the mountain passes as the sun went down and the colors of the hills faded, giving way to the impending night. Saad was thinking about the procession of captives that had come and gone. He wondered whether they attacked them by land and sea the way they did to the people of Malaga. Did they starve them to the point of forcing them to eat their own horses? Or did they raze their homes and pounce on them before taking them away as prisoners?

At
the
beginning
of
the
summer,
the
warm
weather
follows
the
copious
rains
that
bring
to
the
land
the
scent
of
fresh
wet
grass.
The
grown-ups
say,
"The
Malaga
Palace
has
fallen
and
the
Castilians
are
coming.
"
The
grown-ups
say,
"They
arrived
and
pitched
camp
outside
the
walls
of
the
city.
They
dug
trenches
and
they
built
towers
and
wooden
bridges.
They
set
up
Italian
ar
tillery
posts.
King
Ferdinand
arrived,
and
then
Queen
Isabella
came
from
Cordova.
"
His
father
says
that
Hamid
al-Thaghri,
who
led
a
heroic
defense
of
the
town
of Ronda,
was
asked
immediately
after
its
fall
to
become
leader
of
the
garrison
at
the
fortress
of
Gibralfaro,
which
overlooks
Malaga.
His
father
says
that
al-Thaghri
came
down
from
the
fortress
with
his
troops,
removed
the
governor
of
Malaga
who
intended
to
surrender
it,
and
set
up
a
blockade
around
the
city.
That's
the
only
thing
that
the
grown-ups
talk
about.
They
hear
the
words
and
sometimes
they
understand,
and
at
other
times
they
don't.
In
either
case,
they
repeat
what
they
hear
in
playful
imitation.

Racing
through
the
neighborhoods,
playing
hide-and-go-seek
behind
the
trees,
and
stealing
sour
grapes
from
the
neighbors
' vineyards
all
came
to
an
end
with
the
onslaught
of
the
new
pastime:
they
give
each
other
roles
and
then
get
into
disputes
and
wage
battles
with
one
another.
Everyone
wants
to
be
al-Thaghri
or,
at
least,
one
of
his
soldiers,
and
then,
in
the
end,
settle
for
the
part
of
King
Ferdinand
or
one
of
his
senior
officers,
or
perhaps
a
knight.
They
have
everything
they
need,for
there
is
an
abundance
of
things
to
choose
from,
either
from
home
or
in
the
streets.
Someone
sneaks
out
a
clay
vessel
and
uses
it
as
Ferdinand's
crown
by
turning
it
upside
down
and
placing
it
on
top
of
the
head;
by
becoming
taller
he
turns
into
a
king.
Or
the
branches
of
the
trees
are
made
into
ready-made
swords,
while
small
pebbles
turn
into
gold
di
nars
and
stones
become
precious
gems.
An
old
garment
is
wrapped
around
one
child's
head,
thus
becoming
an
awesome
turban,
transforming
him
into
a
prosperous
and
powerful
merchant.

With
the
clay
vessel
towering
above
the
others,
King
Ferdinand
sum
mons
three
of
his
knights
and
commands
them
to
go
to
Malaga.
"Tell
them
to
surrender
the
city.
"The
knights
bow
before
him,
kiss
his
small
hand,
and
turn
around
and
head
out
to
convey
his
message
to
the
other
side.
"King
Fer
dinand
orders
you
to
surrender.
"The
turbaned
heads
draw
close
and
huddle
in
consultation.
The
merchant
speaks:
"If
we
don't
surrender,
he
will
destroy
us."

The
others
reply,
"No
surrender."

It
falls
to
Darwish,
the
leader
of
the
town,
to
settle
the
matter:
"We
will
surrender!"

Al-Thaghri
appears
mounted
on
his
make-believe
horse.
He
raises
his
sword
to
Darwish
and
strikes
him.
He
falls
to
the
ground
and
dies.
The
oth
ers
run
away.
With
his
tree
branch
weapon
drawn,
al-Thaghri
proclaims,
"Tell
the
king
that
Sidi
Zghal
did
not
entrust
us
with
the
command
of
this
fortress
only
to
surrender
it.
We
will
defend
our
city!"

The
king's
emissary
replies,
"But
His
Majesty
has
sent
you
this
gift,"
stretching
out
a
handful
of
stones
and
pebbles.
"He
will
give
you
all
of
this,
plus
a
castle
and
even
more
money,
if
you
surrender.
"

Al-Thaghri
returns
the
handful
of
gifts
to
the
royal
emissary
and
says
confidently,
"I
want
nothing
from
you."

Whereupon
war
breaks
out.
They
all
take
part
in
attacking
with
their
wooden
swords.
The
battlefield
extends
into
the
entire
vineyard
as
they
pair
off
in
different
directions,
battling
one
another
until
they
collapse
in
exhaustion.