And Peter writhed on the floor. Blood pumped from a dozen wounds punched into body. His face was all but gone, Ibrahim saw, horrified, the skin scorched away, though some awful chance had left his eyeballs intact, staring terrified from lidless sockets.

The thunder-mouth tipped up silently. Ibrahim saw the tube nod down over the battlements, and an iron ball rolled harmlessly out to fall straight down the wall to the ground below.

XXVIII

XXVIII

Saladin and Thomas were not permitted to go with the scouting party to the foot of the walls beneath the strange explosion. But they were able to inspect what was recovered: some twisted bits of metal, and an immense ball of iron.

‘An engine,’ Thomas said darkly. ‘Or the remains of one that failed.’

‘Subh,’ Saladin said. ‘My mother’s cousin. She is in there. This proves it.’ He glanced at the city walls, and wondered if this remote relative whom he had never met was looking back at him now. ‘She must have the engine plans. She must have dug them up from the mosque—’

‘Not necessarily. Fernando has the city riddled with his spies. If that were going on we’d have heard about it. Subh’s letter to your mother hinted of other designs, sketches developed by Sihtric and his co-workers from the originals - sketches that were not entirely lost when Sihtric died. Perhaps that’s what we’re seeing here.’ He grunted, poking tentatively at a bit of torn copper sheet. ‘It would certainly explain why it failed. We may yet not be too late to get to those originals first.’

‘I hope so. Or mother will be furious.’

XXIX

XXIX

Word came from the vizier’s office that King Fernando was prepared to accept the surrender of the city on the twenty-third of November. Three days before that cut-off the emir’s ministers were to meet with representatives of the King and the Pope, where Fernando’s terms would be presented.

Ibrahim was dulled by the months of siege. But Ibn Shaprut counselled him to be hopeful. Perhaps in this moment of surrender the Christians might discover in themselves the mercy of Jesus of which they boasted so loudly.

On the morning of the meeting, Ibrahim woke from a restless night, soon after dawn. He could hear rain hissing down.

Ibrahim left the palace and walked the streets of the city, hoping to clear his head. The rain on his upturned face was light and fresh. The people were coming out of their houses, men and women with scrawny arms protruding from grimy sleeves. They put out pots and bowls and cups to catch the rain. This was the first significant rainfall of the winter, and Ibrahim imagined it cleaning the air, washing away the last of the heat and stench of the filthy summer of siege. The world was being kind to Seville, then, at last.