Chapters (92)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- I - MUSTA’RIB
- I
- II
- III
- IV
- V
- VI
- VII
- VIII
- IX
- X
- XI
- XII
- XIII
- XIV
- XV
- XVI
- XVII
- XVIII
- XIX
- XX
- XXI
- XXII
- XXIII
- XXIV
- II - CRUCESIGNATI
- I
- II
- III
- IV
- V
- VI
- VII
- VIII
- IX
- X
- XI
- XII
- XIII
- XIV
- XV
- XVI
- XVII
- XVIII
- XIX
- XX
- XXI
- XXII
- XXIII
- XXIV
- XXV
- XXVI
- XXVII
- XXVIII
- XXIX
- XXX
- XXXI
- III - NAVIGATOR
- I
- II
- III
- IV
- V
- VI
- VII
- VIII
- IX
- X
- XI
- XII
- XIII
- XIV
- XV
- XVI
- XVII
- XVIII
- XIX
- XX
- XXI
- XXII
- XXIII
- XXIV
- XXV
- XXVI
- XXVII
- XXVIII
- EPILOGUE
- I
- II
- Afterword
Ibrahim, dismayed, looked into her face, and recognised the same sort of madness that seemed to drive the Christians, a plain, single-minded determination, uncomplicated and unsubtle and uncluttered by reflection. Her purpose had already destroyed Peter. Now the thought of scrabbling around in pursuit of this foolish dream on the floor of an abandoned mosque, in the midst of an epochal tragedy, disgusted him. ‘I won’t help you with this, mother. I told you. It’s over.’
She nodded. ‘Then what will you do?’
‘As soon as this round is done I’m fetching my pack and leaving with Ibn Shaprut.’
‘Then this is where we must say goodbye.’
Something inside Ibrahim broke. ‘Give up this madness, Mother, I beg you. Come with us. It’s a long walk to Granada. But you will have me.’ He gestured at the girl. ‘Obona will walk with you. Perhaps you will be able to help her with her baby.’ He hoped that would touch his mother’s heart.
But Subh looked down at the girl and sneered. ‘If you take her you really are a fool. She doesn’t need you, don’t you see that? She has a pretty face. She can whore herself to the Christians as she once whored for Ali Gurdu. That’s what rat-people like her do. But not us, Ibrahim. We’re better than the rest. Come with me now, and we will fulfil our family’s destiny together. We will change the world.’
Ibrahim looked down at the girl, who was weeping over her baby. ‘You shame me, Mother. Go now.’ He kept his head bowed.
When he looked up she had gone.
XXXI
XXXI
So King Fernando walked at last into the city he had besieged for so long. His soldiers lined the way, and cheered. But their voices were small in a city that was an echoing stone shell, and some of the soldiers looked about warily, fearful of Moorish ghosts.
It was three days before Saladin was finally allowed into the city, for the first time since he had accompanied the King’s envoys during their negotiations with the emir. He was stunned by the emptiness of the place, compared to the vibrancy he had witnessed only days before. Walking through the innards of this vast stone corpse crushed his soul.