The Horse Healer

by Gonzalo Giner

  “We’ve just entered enemy territory,” said Kabirma, more worried than the rest of them. “We should get out of here as soon as possible. … There could be more like him.” He dragged the body to the base of a tree and began to throw leaves over it. “Go find the horses. …” He pointed to Diego and to Fatima, who had hidden during the assault.

  “We didn’t see anyone else.”

  “That’s good, but we can’t risk it. If they find us now and see what we’ve done, we’re dead.”

  Shortly afterward, they crossed the river at a bend where the current was slow, and from there they drove their horses onward at a mad clip. Galloping intensely, Kabirma’s words echoed in their ears: This was enemy territory. Fear made them look over at everything that moved, staring into the shadows, imagining that in any moment more soldiers or more dangers could step out into their path. The five riders were conscious they were crossing one of the riskiest areas, the border. They grabbed onto the necks of their horses to make a single body with them and thereby gain speed.

  In the dead of night, they reached a plain where they could speed up the pace of the horses. The animals sweated and seemed exhausted, but their owners’ panic did not allow them any rest.

  Benazir saw how Fatima shook, suffering from cold. The wind turned her soaked clothes into a coat of pure pain. With their hasty escape, no one had asked why she showed up wet in her underwear with Diego. The girl saw Benazir’s glance and understood the meaning of her coldness.

  Many leagues later, when the day had dawned, they reached the bank of the river that Kabirma recognized as the Zújar. If they followed its course, the water would mark their route almost all the way to the Sierra Norte.

  They stopped a moment to let the horses drink and Kabirma spoke alone with Galib.

  “We have to follow the direction of the river until we arrive at the bottom of the mountains. Once there, we’ll look for a town called Castella, and there, I’m hoping we can take refuge in the house of a friend. But before that, we have to cross a ravine that leads to a populous village, around a day and a half from here, where we might well come across some armed patrols. If we keep this same rhythm, we’ll get there at night, which will help us avoid them. Now we have to push our horses a little more so they don’t stop until we’re well into the night.”

  Galib scratched his beard nervously.

  “Why do you want to stop in Castella? It seems less risky if we don’t let ourselves be seen, don’t you think?”

  “We’ve been traveling too many days and we’re all showing signs of weariness. I think we would all appreciate being able to stop one night under a roof and sleep in a bed. It could also help us, being able to talk with our contact; he’s an influential man and can tell us how to enter Seville without running more risks than necessary. But until that moment comes, we can’t let down our guard. We still have to cross through that village that I mentioned before. Once that’s done, I have faith that everything will be easier.”

  “And why are you so afraid of that territory?”

  “It’s full of Turks.”

  “Turks? Here?” Galib couldn’t help but show the dread on his face. He knew the kind of excesses they were accustomed to.

  “The caliph ceded them a few towns and those lands for cultivation, in return for some favor in war, I assume. We have to be careful, believe me; those troops are very violent. They’re crazy.”

  In the middle of the night, without resting the entire day, Kabirma headed toward a leafy forest that they would have to cross. One by one, he explained to them very quietly what they needed to know.

  “Don’t talk and try to keep your animal as quiet as possible. If it makes a noise, quiet it down fast. We are going to enter into a high-risk area.”

  They went on in the darkness under the cover of the trees, nearly unable to see anything. The horses, exhausted, walked heavily, sniffing everything in search of a little grass they could eat.

  Along with the strong scent of wood and rotten leaves, with the silence of the night as their only company, they passed through the grim forest in silence until they arrived at a clearing free of vegetation and illuminated by the moon. But as soon as they entered …

  “Turks!” Kabirma was the first to see them. “On the other end of the plain!”

  They assumed there was nothing they could do, since the Turks had seen them too.

  Kabirma quickly said, “Let me talk and stay quiet. … It’s important that they see us relaxed at all times. I imagine they’ll want to see my safe-conduct paper. When they find out it’s signed by the vizier, I don’t think they’ll give us too many problems, and they’ll let us go on our way.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Galib swallowed and looked at his wife. Benazir and Fatima covered their faces, and Diego found his dagger and moved it to where it was easier to grab.

  A half-dozen men soon surrounded them and glared at them mistrustfully. One of them was first to speak. He turned to Galib.

  “Where are you going tonight? I don’t know you. … Show me your pass.”

  Kabirma answered.

  “We are relatives of Altair ibn Ghazi. Do you know him?” He took out his safe conduct from his tunic and passed it to them. “He governs in Castella. That’s our destination.”

  The man held up the parchment and read it thoroughly. When he reached the vizier’s seal, he paid special attention, noting something strange in the signature.

  “Who gave you this?” He shook the parchment with an irritated expression. The rest of his soldiers, their eyes squeezed like slits and their skin dark brown, took out their swords and lost no time in coming over.

  “What do you mean, who? It was the vizier himself who gave it to me. … And that can’t have been more than a few months back. You have his signature right there.” He pointed with his finger. “And here above it my name, the person this was written for: Kabirma from Jerez. I’m a horse trader and I’ve taken this same route many other times. I don’t know why we haven’t met before, but I do know others of your companions. … Today I’m traveling in the company of my family.” He remained calm. “These are my children…”—he pointed at Fatima and Diego—“and this is my brother, with his wife.” Galib and Benazir saluted respectfully.

  The Turk looked back at the document, trying to confirm the truth of the signature. Two weeks before, he had been with the vizier and he remembered how his sign was. He turned the safe conduct in various directions to better catch the reflection of the moon, but the darkness of night didn’t allow him to be completely sure.

  “I think you’re lying!” he suddenly shouted.

  “Don’t think that. … It’s not true.”

  “You are going to come with me into town; I need to confirm something. The rest can wait here. We won’t take long.”

  He made a sign to two of the soldiers to stay back with them.

  Kabirma obeyed him, but before doing so, he had his horse approach Galib so he could speak with him. No one noticed but the albéitar.

  “Flee without me. …” he thought he heard. “It’s false. … I’ll meet back up with you.”

  Galib was paralyzed with fear when he understood the gravity of the situation before them. While he watched Kabirma go, surrounded by four of the soldiers, he was afraid, for him and for everyone else as well.

  Calmly, he told everyone to dismount and asked Benazir to make some food to eat during the wait. The two Turks got down as well, without looking away from them even for a moment, though they had begun to think those people presented little danger.

  Fatima helped Benazir make everything. They looked for some rolls that they had kept wrapped in cotton cloth and opened them to fill them with cheese and quince. From time to time, they looked over at Galib without knowing what his intentions were, attentive to his every movement. Little by little, Diego came closer to his master and was a
ble to ask him in a low voice what was happening. Galib answered, almost without moving his lips.

  “Look in my medicines and find one of the bottles of poppy extract. And when you can, give it to me.”

  “What are you talking about?” One of the Turks approached. “Until they come back, I want to see you all calm and silent. Understood?”

  They accepted his orders and stood right in front of them. Diego asked permission to look for a waterskin; meanwhile, Benazir prepared the rolls so that everyone could eat. The soldiers were hungry and watched them enviously, but without speaking.

  Diego found the flask that Galib wanted and hid it up his sleeve. The soldier at his side did not see it, even though he was watching the whole time. Diego sat back down between Benazir and Galib and listened to what he should do next.

  “Soak a few of the rolls in that liquid.”

  Benazir heard her husband and understood what he was trying to do. She stood in front of Diego when the moment came to soak the bread and when that was done, she took one and held it up.

  “We haven’t offered you anything. Would you like to try a bit?”

  The Turks looked at each other without knowing what to do. In their orders it was laid out that they should never accept anything from an enemy, but in this case, it couldn’t be said that these people wished any ill on them. They looked at the bread doubtfully. It looked tasty …

  “Bring it.” One stood up and snatched it from her hand. He broke it in half and passed some to his compatriot. Before they bit into it, they watched the others eating without any fear, and they decided.

  “Take another, we have too many. I imagine it’s been hours since you’ve eaten.” Benazir approached them, giving them the bread and a captivating smile.

  They ate it as fast as lightning, and two more that Diego prepared in the same way. Afterward they helped themselves to a long swig of water that they had Galib bring them.

  Shortly afterward, they were sleeping tranquilly, one leaning against the other. The effect of the narcotic had fulfilled its mission, and now Galib and Diego helped the women mount as quickly as possible.

  “Let’s get out of here fast.”

  “And my father?” Fatima looked nervously in the same direction they had taken him. “We are going to leave him alone? I can’t go, no. I’m staying to wait for him.”

  “Are you mad?” Diego interrupted. “Do you want to see how they’ll react when they wake up and see you here?”

  “Your father will find us on the way. Relax. He told me that when they were taking him away.” As Galib reassured Fatima, he made a sign to Diego to tell him to grab her reins.

  They spurred the animals on with encouraging words, trying to reach the path at top speed. It was urgent to make it out of the clearing as quickly as possible.

  Galib directed, trying to find the path in the darkness. Once they had made it out of the dense forest, they found an enormous plain, completely empty. Galib didn’t know which was the best way to pass unseen, but finally, he decided the best thing was to follow the riverbed to his left.

  “Follow along the banks!” He pointed out the direction.

  They made a break and went down a steep hillside where there was a narrow tree-lined path that would help them to hide. Fatima, back in charge of her own reins, was the first to make it onto that green pathway, so dense that soon they had lost sight of her. Following in the rear was Diego. In that mass of vegetation, the darkness was almost complete. Sabba followed on the haunches of Benazir’s horse, and she followed that of her husband.

  Diego thought he heard noise behind his back. He couldn’t tell what it was. It could be some animal, but he warned those ahead of him and immediately they picked up the pace as much as they could without fear of being whipped in the face by the hundreds of branches that came out from every side of their path. They seemed not to care, and each knew what had to be done in that moment. The desire to get out of there was a sufficient motive for crossing through that dense area without any fear.

  After two days, once they had arrived in the foothills of the Sierra and were free from any more danger from the Turks, Diego and Galib decided to wait for Kabirma there.

  “He’ll come …” Benazir enveloped Fatima in her arms and looked northward with her. They had been doing it every once in a while for many leagues now.

  “We were able to trick our captors, but maybe my father wasn’t. …”

  “We won’t leave until he appears. … And he will,” Galib said. “Your father is a man of many resources; he’ll have made it, you’ll see.” He got off his horse and climbed onto a large boulder. He invited Fatima to come with him. From that height, you could see more than five leagues into the distance.

  The girl was suffering the unspeakable. With all her might, she wished things wouldn’t end in that way. Could something have happened to her father? she thought timidly. And if they had taken him prisoner, or worse, had hurt him? She shook from anguish. Galib guessed what she was feeling and tried to console her with a long embrace.

  He thought the same and was deeply sorry for all that was happening to them. He had warned them all. Their journey was dangerous. … Why hadn’t they listened to him at the time? If they had stayed in Toledo, none of this would have happened, and Kabirma would be safe.

  In midafternoon, when the sun had begun to descend and they were filled with despair, Fatima thought she saw a small shadow moving in the distance. She squinted her eyes and shouted to everyone. She thought she saw him. Yes. It was her father!

  After Kabirma had made his way to them, he embraced his daughter, enchanted to be back together with her. He hadn’t know whether they had managed to escape the men guarding them or not either. He admitted he had been tormented by doubt as much as or more than they had, especially since he was alone. He explained how he had managed to escape unharmed as the reunited group got back on the trail, because he wished to leave those wastelands behind him and take the road farther into the Sierra.

  He had, in fact, falsified the signature, he admitted, but the Turk had taken too much time trying to verify it.

  “I passed through some tough moments. But like always, I was able to use a solution that has never failed me, I swear.”

  “How much did it cost you then?”

  “You’re an old dog like me, Galib, my friend. You know what I’m talking about, right?”

  “It’s true I’ve met a few Turks in my time.”

  “His silence cost me a hundred maravedíes, everything I had, but I consider it a deal.”

  “Father …” Fatima grabbed his arm and covered it with kisses. “For a moment … I thought I’d lost you.”

  “I’m not afraid of weapons or of tricks, I know they’ll never defeat me, but I confess that just one look from you can do it every time.” He stroked his daughter’s cheek.

  From then on they looked for the cool hillsides of the Sierra and climbed less nervously, their spirits renewed, feeling somewhat closer to their desired destination. Diego only thought of Seville, of being able to find out something about his sisters.

  “We should make it to Castella before night falls. … I don’t want any more scares, and I know we’ll find protection there. Altair is a friend.”

  XIX.

  The walled city of Castella, or Cazalla de la Sierra as it was also known, opened its doors to them when they announced whom they had come to visit.

  Altair was a curious person with an appearance that surprised people from the first glance. His extreme obesity seemed out of proportion with his tiny head. It was the same with his face, where he had an enormous mouth with fat lips that jutted out and an almost nonexistent nose.

  When they arrived at his home, as soon as he saw his friend Kabirma, the man flew into a fit of joy. But only a minute later, without any sort of segue, he entered into a state of hysteria. He shouted a str
ing of orders to his people to prepare milk and dates to welcome his guests, a dinner for afterward, and then beds and baths for his newly arrived friends.

  The house was also occupied by some family members who had shown up not long before, fleeing from Castilian territories. Even so, Altair held Kabirma in such esteem that he tried to offer them the best rooms. Soon everyone had lodgings, everyone but Diego. Altair begged pardon and suggested that the young man sleep in the hayloft.

  “I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything better.” He seemed distraught.

  “Relax, Altair, for days we’ve been sleeping out in the open. I’m sure he’ll sleep better there than on the grass.”

  “Of course, don’t worry about me.”

  After quickly washing up, they met for dinner. The table was set for the invitees and Altair’s family in a courtyard with flower beds and a melodious fountain at its center.

  They sat atop cushions and admired the elegance of the gathering. On a tabletop of leather, they had placed plates and bowls of crockery lined with decorative glass, olivewood spoons, candles and aromatic lamps in the center, and rose petals all about.

  First they served them meat pastries fried in olive oil, as delicious as they were filling, and then followed savory grilled pigeons with an eggplant soup.

  Apart from his hospitality, Altair was also an excellent conversationalist. He spoke to them of his ancestors, Andalusians as far back as anyone could remember. He also recollected to them his earlier pledge to breed the finest race of horses that Allah had ever created: the African Berber. It was for that reason that he had met Kabirma.

  “After my active participation in numerous wars against the Christians, they gave me a public office in the town. Now I am the zalmedina, responsible for governance and administration. Not a well-paid job, but an easy one. Castella is a calm place where almost nothing ever happens, though that changed a few days ago. The mood has changed and the people are living anxiously. All because of some terrible news. …”