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Unbeknown to Jabuti and his companions, another visitor would soon be visiting the royal palace. Rodrigo had arrived into the port of Cadiz several days after Jabuti’s departure to a wary populace. After having suffered hostile raids from Moorish Corsairs, it took some fine negotiations between the two parties to assure the town’s defenders of their peaceful intentions. It was a strange state of affairs that even though the two nations were enemies if any negotiations were to be held, the safety of ambassadors or emissaries were to be guaranteed. Even though Sultan Moulay Ismail ibn Sharif was unpredictable and cruel, he knew the value that hostages could bring to the negotiating table. Indeed, he had had several visitations from various nations over the years, and all had left with their heads firmly attached to their shoulders.
So, carrying a formal letter from the sultan, the Moors disembarked upon Spanish soil. For the majority of the new arrivals, it was their first glimpse of a European nation. The town’s women scuttled away in fear and horror under the heathens leering gazes. But the sailors were under strict orders not to interfere with the locals and not to tarry. And they all knew too well what punishment any disobedience would entail. Even though Rodrigo was instructed to move along with the rest of them, he pleaded with the group’s leader, Zineb Abergel, that he could make a quick visit to the Santiago Apostle church.
An intelligent and measured man, fluent in Spanish and many other languages, Zineb scratched his goatee beard, looking pensive.
‘Alright, alright,’ he said. ‘But be quick about it, we should not stay long.’
Rodrigo smiled. ‘Thank you, this might be the last time I ever get to visit. Can you look after the child?’
‘Do not worry, he will be safe with me.’
Zineb had learned all about Rodrigo’s earlier life in Cadiz and had grown to like the man, even though they were of different faiths. Truth be told, Zineb felt it a refreshing change to hold an intelligent discourse with another learned man. The presence of the child also helped create a bond between the two men as Zineb had left behind a large brood at home to come on this voyage.
With a beating heart, Rodrigo’s pace quickened as he crossed the cobbled streets towards the church. As he neared its walls, emotions came flooding back. Like the moment when he was found lying destitute and was brought within the comforting walls of the church. Until then Rodrigo had felt all alone in the world, much like Jabuti. He had escaped the cold and harsh life of his father’s authoritarian rule and been welcomed in with open arms by the brotherhood. From that moment onwards, all he had felt was a profound love of life and for his fellow man.
With trepidation, he pushed hard upon the massive wooden door, much like he had done all those years before. Upon entering, all the familiar sights and smells came flooding back, and he remembered the time when he had left on his mission to the New World. Little did he know of the plans that God had in store for him back then. But here he was all these years later, standing in the very place that had made him the man he was today. Unaccustomed to self-pity he was taken by surprise as tears welled up in his eyes and he sank to his knees weeping. Becoming aware of a presence behind him he stood up, feeling embarrassed and wiped the tears from his eyes.
‘This is no place for sadness, my son.’
Rodrigo span round. ‘Francisco? Is it you...?’
‘It is I, brother.’
Rodrigo took the old man in his arms and squeezed him so hard that he felt he might break his frail body.
Letting go of him, Rodrigo said, ‘I thought I’d never see the day.’
‘Nor I. How is this possible? I have heard of your adventures from a young man named Jabu—’
‘Jabuti?’
‘Yes.’
‘He is alive?’
Francisco nodded.
‘Thank the Lord. Where is he?’ Rodrigo said. ‘I must see him, but time is not on my side I’m afraid.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry Rodrigo, but he has left alr—’
‘No!’ Rodrigo shouted uncharacteristically angry.
‘Rodrigo, be calm. What has overcome you?’
‘I’m sorry. So much has happened since I left, I fear I may not be the same man you knew before.’
‘Tell me all about it.’
‘My troubles are of no concern, I must not tarry,’ he said looking around nervously. ‘I am to travel to the royal palace and negoti—’
‘But that is where Jabuti has gone.’
‘What? This cannot be,’ Rodrigo said. ‘Quick, you must tell me what became of the search for his father before I leave.’
‘He is here.’
‘Who?’
‘Why, his father, of course?’
‘Incredible! Where is he?’ Rodrigo said looking around.
‘In my quarters.’
‘I cannot quite believe it.’
‘It is true, but he is ver—’
They were interrupted by a gentle knocking from outside, and the door opened a crack.
‘Rodrigo?’ came a disembodied voice.
‘Zineb?’
‘I do not wish to be disrespectful in your house of worship,’ he said with surprising consideration. ‘But we really must be leaving.’
‘Forgive me, Zineb,’ Rodrigo replied. ‘A couple of moments if you will allow?’
‘Very well, but the men are getting restless.’
Turning back to Francisco, Rodrigo said, ‘Tell me what you can.’
Francisco summed up Jabuti’s adventures as quickly as he could and told of Wanadi’s capture and of their subsequent journey to visit with the king.
‘Poor Wanadi,’ Rodrigo sighed. ‘May I see Jabuti’s father?’
Francisco nodded and took him to where he lay. Rodrigo entered a small room set off from the nave where several lit candles emitted a soft dancing light. Set within was a simple wooden cot where a frail man lay sleeping.
‘Brother Pedro,’ Rodrigo said as he took his hand.
With great effort, the man opened his weary eyes and said, ‘Brother Rodrigo, is it you?’
‘It is I, my friend.’
‘I never thought I’d see you again.’
‘This is a day of many surprises.’
‘Have you left the mission?’
‘I am on a mission of a different kind now, but I do not have much time to talk.’
‘I have you to thank for helping my son find me.’
‘He is an incredible young man.’
‘If I had but known I would never have left...’ he began coughing.
‘You must rest.’
‘But what must what you think of me?’ he said recovering slightly. ‘My behaviour was not fitting to a man of God. I am ash—’
‘That is all in the past. What matters is that you and Jabuti are reunited at last.’
‘Rodrigo,’ came a whisper from outside. ‘That Moor is getting restless.’
‘I’m coming, Francisco.’
‘Very well.’
Turning to Pedro, he took his hand once more and said, ‘I must be leaving.’
‘Godspeed, my friend.’
Francisco walked outside with him and stood by the entrance as Rodrigo walked away. After a few strides, Rodrigo turned and said, ‘Take good care of Pedro. I hope to see you once more after my visit with the king.’
Francisco held up a gnarled and frail hand to wave goodbye to his old friend.