For now
“Escaped? Why would –”
“It’s the inquisitors! I can’t stay here.” She made to follow the river.
“Where will you go?” He stepped aside, leaving a space between them, but kept pace with her as she scurried along the track. “Will they not search for you?”
She paused and listened. Crickets chirped in the tall grass; martins twittered as they flew back and forth from the river to the branches above their heads. No pounding of hooves or booted feet. She couldn’t run much further, not without rest, and glanced again at the trees, and at the man in front of her, her legs shaking.
“I won’t hurt you,” the stranger said, when she did not reply. His eyes were dark, but
something gleamed in their depths. “Look, I’ve got food in my satchel.” He slipped the leather strap off his shoulder and held open the flap for her to look inside. There was bread, and a number of objects rolled in cloth.
“What are those?” she asked.
“Brushes, canvas, charcoal. I’m an artist.” He bowed. “My name is Baha.” Dappled sunlight had made shadows of his features; at his smile the shadows fled. “May I ask your name?”
“I’m called Rosa.”
She looked up at his face under the pretence of inspecting the rip in her sleeve. He was clean shaven, but his hair was long, framing his cheeks in dark threads. Not a Castilian, perhaps a
“Pleased to meet you, Señorita Rosa. There’s a clearing on the other side. If you’re hungry, we might stop there a moment and eat.”
She looked back one last time and went with him as he veered off the water’s edge into the trees, willing to believe herself safe. She couldn’t return to Palos on her own, and there seemed no way to reach her guardian, Brother Arcturus, without becoming caught once more. If, indeed, he hadn’t played a role in her capture.
The clearing was there as Baha had said, and she waited as he tugged a blanket out from his satchel. He draped it at the foot of a fig tree, and held out a hand. “Please.”
She lowered herself gingerly onto the furthest edge and tucked her skirts about her. He sat down on the far side and leaned back against the tree trunk with a sigh.
“I usually walk at night and sleep in the afternoons,” he told her, rummaging in his satchel. “But I was abroad early, to see Amiral Colón leave.”
He pulled out a round loaf of bread filled with cheese, and tore it in two, passing her the
larger half. His matter of fact manners were soothing, and the shaking in her limbs subsided enough that she felt more hungry than ever. The inquisitors hadn’t spared any food last night.
“Could you repeat your name, please?” she asked on the final mouthful.
He rose up on one knee and plucked two figs off the tree, laying one on the blanket beside her.
“Baha. It’s an Ottoman name.”
An Ottoman! Whatever was he doing wandering so far from home? She murmured her
thanks and peeled her fig, keeping her eyes averted as he dug in a thumbnail and peeled his own.
It hurt to think of Santiago, especially with her other family still trapped across the field.
She’d evaded pursuit, and had to find a way to save them, but then what? Even if they could find a ship, they had no means of affording passage. She finished off her fig and wiped her hands on the grass.
“Are you cold, Señorita?” His words, though soft, rang in the still air, skittering through the midst of her frenzied thoughts.
“No, thank you.” Cold? The sun filtered down through the leaves, their resting place sunk in a bowl of golden light.
“Are you certain? You’re trembling. I’ve a cloak, if you need it.”
“No, thank you. What are you doing?” His eyes were lowered to his lap, where he held a scrap of paper and a smudge of charcoal. He smiled and held up the – well, she wouldn’t call it a drawing. She peered at the squiggles; there was something like a half moon, with many shapes on either side that looked like houses.
“It’s something called
“Which text have you chosen?” She tried to make out as much of the tiny illustration as she could without leaning too close.
“None, this time.” He smiled, giving her a sidelong look. “It’s meant to portray the capital, Stam Boul, or Constantinopla.”
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The reason for the season...the birth of Messiah!
and some added Christmas excitement for the kiddies...
Ha ha.