‘No, they don’t. Or aren’t supposed to. There’s more to the vizier than meets the eye. And I’d like to know more about the relationship he has with Sihtric. What hold does Sihtric have over him?’ Orm sighed. ‘I suppose it was foolish to think there would be anything simple about all this. Sihtric is a complicated man, and this is a complicated place.’

‘But you’re going to try to resolve your business with Sihtric even so?’

‘I think I have to. I’m going to wait here for Sihtric. What will you do?’

Robert grinned. ‘Go back to the city with Moraima.’

Orm nodded. ‘I thought so. Just be careful.’

‘My arm is strong.’

‘But your heart isn’t, no stronger than mine ever was. Be wary, son.’

IX

IX

‘Take your boots off,’ Moraima whispered.

They stood in the walled courtyard of Cordoba’s great mosque - the Court of the Orange Trees, Moraima called it. It was crowded with the faithful, who washed in the fountains before entering the mosque.

Robert peered nervously through a narrow door into an interior of shadows and columns. ‘Are you sure about this? This is a mosque - I’m a Christian—’

‘But Jesus is revered in our theology. He was a great prophet. Of course a Christian may enter a mosque.’

‘Besides, the mosque is the greatest religious glory of all al-Andalus,’ said a boy, approaching them. ‘You must see it before you come to conquer us, Christian.’

And a second boy said, ‘Just don’t go shouting out “Jesus Christ the King” in the Mihrab and you’ll be fine.’

These two were about Moraima’s age, perhaps a year or two older than Robert. They were slim, dark, dressed in brightly coloured clothes. Healthy, loose-limbed, they were not especially handsome, but they seemed intelligent, good-humoured, confident. Even their Latin was fluent. And they had the air of wealth, of easy riches. Before them Robert felt dull, cloddish, like a lump of earth.

‘These are my friends,’ Moraima said. ‘Ghalib. Hisham.’ Robert wouldn’t have remembered which was which, save that Ghalib wore a bright red turban. They were sons of courtiers who served Ibn Tufayl, she said.

‘I didn’t know we’d have company,’ Robert said, and he struggled to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

The boys noticed, and they grinned. But what had he expected? Of course Moraima had friends here; of course she had a life of her own, that had nothing to do with him.

Moraima said, ‘Oh, come on, Robert. I thought you’d like to meet new people. And they’ve been eager to meet you. Hisham is studying philosophy, and Ghalib’s training to be an astronomer, like his father.’

Ghalib said the word slowly and heavily. ‘Astronomer. I don’t suppose you have many of those in England, do you?’