by Blas Malo
PART TWO: 1369-1370
Ibn Shalam is living in Granada with his wife Fatima, their two children, Aisha and Abdel, and his orphaned nephew Ahmed, whom they have taken into their family. Ahmed sighs for his beautiful cousin Aisha, and Abdel wants to become a soldier. He enlists in the Nasrid army and is sent to the frontier with Castile.
At the palace, the attempted assassination of Ibn Zamrak culminates in the death by poisoning of his favourite concubine, and Ibn Shalam's name is among those on a list of suspects.)
—You are under arrest in the name of the law, our sultan and Allah! —shouted one of the policemen. The women's terrified screams could be heard.
Ibn Shalam, full of confusion on the one hand and, on the other, full of indignation at this outrage, tried to stave off the armed men, who drew their swords from beneath their capes. Fatima and Aisha ran upstairs in fright. Ibn Shalam threw a wash-bowl and a chair at the men but that only hindered them for a moment. Luckily for him they had orders to take the captives alive. These men were professionals. They struck him across the face and body before immobilising him and dragging him off. Fatima and Aisha were terrified. Ahmed tried to hit one of the soldiers and they beat him up until he spat blood. They threw the two men out into the street, at the feet of the law, the almotacen or public order official. It was cold.
—In the name of Allah, what have we done? What is all this about? —begged Ibn Shalam.
—Be quiet! —shouted one of the guards, raising his hand to strike him but stopping at a gesture from Ibn Hunayn. The official unrolled an order bearing the seal of the chief qadi Al-Nubahi, and began to read aloud for all to hear.
—In the name of the Supremely Great, the Eternal and All-Merciful Allah, and of his most faithful and humble servant, our beloved sultan Muhammed Ibn Yusuf, lord of the faithful, guardian of law and justice, and zealous defender of the truth of the Prophet and the Koran. The chief qadi, Al-Nubahi, guardian of the faith at the Great Mosque, accuses you of crimes against the State and Islam, and for that you will be judged. The informants will provide irrefutable evidence and shall remain anonymous by order of the chief qadi. Guards, take them away!
Ahmed and his uncle were torn away from Fatima and Aisha amid heart-rending cries. Ahmed felt a humiliation and helplessness beyond measure. His uncle's eyes filled with tears. The women were sobbing in despair.
—But why? Why this, in the name of divine justice?
—Abdel! Abdel! —shouted Fatima to her husband. There was no time to say anything else to him.
One of the henchmen tried to tear from Aisha's neck the silver chain given to her by the qayna, but she put up a fight.
—No! It's mine!
The soldier slapped her, knocking her down, and, following precise orders, tore the chain from her, destroying the clasp in the process.
—Get them out of here! —ordered the official, looking up at the upper storeys of the houses in the street, where people were watching incredulously—. All those who are accomplices of these vermin will suffer the same consequences ... prison and torture!
The neighbours hurriedly disappeared from the lattice windows and Fatima stifled a cry of despair, looking at her husband who was struck dumb with shock.
—Aisha! —cried Ahmed over and over again, filled with fear, until he was lost to sight in the dark.
—I am innocent! —were the last words Aisha heard her father say. The soldiers led the women away in one direction and the men in another. Husband and wife looked at each other, shuddering with horror, before they were separated forever.
In the Great Mosque, uncle and nephew stood trial by the chief qadi, who accused the pharmacist of trading in poisons and causing the death of innocent people. He denied it all and Al-Nubahi, furious, delivered him into the clutches of the katib, alone. Ahmed, overwhelmed by all the events, was unable even to bid him farewell.
By order of Ibn Zamrak, the pharmacist was taken off to the dungeons of Al-Gudur and subjected to slow torture. The stone walls reverberated with his screams.
—You know what your sins are! Tell them to me, out loud! —demanded the executioner. A scribe was present, ready to note down the confession.
—I have committed no wrong against Allah! —shouted Ibn Shalam with a hoarse scream.
—Is it not true that you have sold forbidden prescriptions? Is it not true that you have caused the death of innocent people? —The executioner showed him something—. Don't you recognise this medallion? Speak up, for your life is at stake!
—No! —he answered, certain that no one else knew Fatima's secret. But the executioner was not referring to that. A shadow murmured something to the executioner, who held out the medallion hanging from a broken chain. The shadow kissed a silver medallion sadly.
—Is it not true that you were in the desert of Fez, making your way to Siyilmasa?
He knew they were torturing him because of the book. He said nothing.
Two executioners took hold of him and fitted some special thumbscrews on his hand. With these they applied unbearable pressure on the phalanges of his fingers until, one after another, the bones were crushed. If the pharmacist thought he could suffer no more, he was wrong. He screamed like a dying animal, but his hoarse voice could only spew dreadful, inhuman groans.
—Yes! I was in Fez!
The shadow appeared behind the executioner. He nodded. The executioner continued.
—What happened to the book? What did you do with it?
They crushed more phalanges and beat his knees and knuckles with steel bars. Chained to the wall, Abdel Ibn Shalam thought he would be transfigured with the pain, but he could say nothing. Because if he said he had the book and knew about the letter, both he and his family would be put to death immediately! Desperate, he tried to gain some time.
—The Sultan's soldiers attacked us at night! It's true! They set fire to the tents! Everything went up in flames ... the book, the furniture, the women, everything!
—Is that the truth? Are you telling the truth? —the executioner kept on. The pharmacist fell silent, unconscious.
—Bring him round —ordered Ibn Zamrak, his voice cold and calm.
The interrogation went on interminably for two whole days, until Allah finally wrested the pharmacist from the katib, which enraged the latter.
However, his death soothed the anger of Abu Ibn Zamrak. Maybe he had told the truth, maybe not. If the son of Abdala the muleteer had any secrets, he had taken them with him.