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‘Sit down, Jabuti, you’re not making any sense,’ Don Diego said.
Jabuti had arrived at Andrea’s house in a state of high anxiety and agitation just moments earlier.
‘I... I don’t know what happened,’ Jabuti said just staring at the stone floor of the kitchen.
‘Get him a brandy will you, Esteban,’ Don Diego said. ‘Take a seat, Jabuti.’
Esteban quickly returned with the spirit, whereupon Jabuti snatched it from Esteban’s hand and swallowed it in one huge gulp.
Coming to his senses, he looked up and said, ‘He knew all about it.’
‘All about what?’ Don Diego said. ‘What on earth has happened?’
‘How I escaped from the sultan...’ Jabuti paused. ‘And he said that he knew Rodrigo was involved.’
‘Who? Slow down.’
‘Zineb.’
‘The Moor?’
Jabuti nodded.
‘But, how would he know that?’ Esteban said joining in. ‘I heard that Zineb has not set foot in Meknes in years.’
‘I thought I was safe here, but it seems like I can never escape from the sultan.’
‘You are safe, he is just one man.’
‘How did he find out?’ Don Diego said.
‘Walls have ears,’ Esteban said. Seeing a puzzled expression on Jabuti’s face, he explained, ‘It’s an expression. It means that there are always people listening.’
‘I see,’ Jabuti said. ‘Yes, that’s right. Zineb said that the soldiers from the palace began talking with his, and that’s how...’ Jabuti trailed off.
‘Don’t worry, we will think of something,’ Don Diego said.
‘He said that he would send news to the sultan of Rodrigo’s part in my escape,’ Jabuti said. ‘I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After all...’ he started sobbing, and Esteban laid a comforting hand upon his shoulder. Through tear-filled eyes, Jabuti continued. ‘After all that we have been through, and what Rodrigo has done for me. He has given me so much comfort and strength through this difficult time. I was not going to let it happen.’
‘No, of course not,’ Don Diego said.
‘That’s why I had to kill him.’
‘What?’
A moment of shocked silence then ensued until Esteban asked, ‘Where is the body?’
‘It’s at the bottom of the cliff,’ Jabuti said gloomily.
‘Come with me, I might just have an idea.’
Jabuti followed Esteban out of the house, not sure of what they were about to do.
‘Why are you bringing that?’ Jabuti asked as Esteban held the brandy bottle which Jabuti had earlier drank of.
‘You will see.’
With dusk descending, Esteban knew that they would be safe from prying eyes. It would be highly unlikely that they would meet anyone on the outskirts of the city, away from any paths or roads. Eventually, they came to the spot, and Jabuti pointed to the bottom of the cliff to where Zineb’s body lay. Peering through the gloom, Esteban lifted the brandy bottle high above his head, taking careful aim. With one swift action, he sent the almost full bottle crashing to the ground just inches from Zineb’s lifeless body. Jabuti looked curiously at Esteban.
‘We both know that they do not drink alcohol in the land of the Moors, is that not so?’
Jabuti nodded but looked even more confused.
‘What man could resist temptation away from such restrictions?’
Slowly the realisation of what Esteban was saying dawned on Jabuti, and he smiled.
Putting an arm around Jabuti’s shoulder, Esteban walked back with him with barely a backward glance.
‘Apparently, the lure of alcohol was just too much for him to bear. Knowing that he was not to see his family for a while he decided to drown his sorrows,’ Esteban said as they continued walking. ‘In a state of drunkenness and with dusk descending, he did not see the cliff in front of him until it was too late.’
‘Thank you,’ Jabuti said.
‘The sultan has committed too many atrocities against our own people,’ Esteban said. ‘Zineb could not be allowed to carry out his threat. You did the right thing.’
By then they had arrived back at the house and were met by Don Diego.
‘Rodrigo has just arrived,’ he said. ‘I was just about to tell him abo—’
‘About our walk? Now, why would he want to know about something as mundane as that?’ Esteban said giving Don Diego a frown.
‘Ahem!’ Don Diego coughed. ‘Of course, of course. There are more important things to talk about.’
‘Yes, I’ve just heard that Zineb is missing from his camp,’ Rodrigo said unaware of the tension in the room.
‘Really?’ Esteban said nonchalantly.
‘Yes, the king is most annoyed. He thinks that he has run away.’
‘It’s a distinct possibility,’ Esteban said. ‘Perhaps we’ll know come the morning.’
‘Yes, perhaps you’re right,’ Rodrigo said.
‘Brandy anyone?’ Don Diego asked.
Esteban and Jabuti both shared a knowing look.
They spent a most agreeable evening together, Andrea having left earlier to let them talk. Eventually, the time came for them to retire, and considering what had happened during the day, Jabuti slept a deep and dreamless sleep.
As he was rising the next morning and wiping the sleep from his eyes, he became aware of a loud rapping on the front door. Pulling on his clothes, he crept to the bedroom door and opened it quietly.
‘What is all this racket?’ he heard Don Diego saying from the lobby.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ he heard a voice saying, recognising it to be that of Lorenzo.
‘What do you want?’
‘The Moor, Zineb, has been found dead.’
‘Good lord!’ Don Diego feigned.
‘The king wishes to meet with you all,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Especially him,’ he said pointing as Jabuti descended the stairs.
Jabuti gulped and almost tripped down the remaining stairs.
‘What is happening?’ Rodrigo said joining the others.
‘Zineb is dead,’ Don Diego said.
‘Oh, my!’
‘We are to assemble before the king.’
‘Please be quick,’ Lorenzo pleaded. ‘This has placed him in a most contrary mood.’
Without delay, they all followed Lorenzo.
‘What is happening, my love?’ Andrea asked Esteban as they were leaving.
‘Do not fret, just one last meeting with the king before we depart.’
With that, he joined the others and caught up with Jabuti.
‘Do not breathe a word of what happened, and do not tell Rodrigo,’ he whispered.
Jabuti nodded with a frightened look.
Soon they were at the palace gates and were ushered through to meet with the king. The king beckoned them forth with an impatient wave of his hand.
‘Your majesty,’ Don Diego said.
The king just sat there, scrutinising them for a few uncomfortable moments.
‘Word has reached me that the Moor, Zineb, has been found dead.’
‘I hear that is correct, your majesty,’ Don Diego replied.
‘Dead at the bottom of a cliff, smelling of alcohol and a smashed bottle lying beside him,’ the king said to a hushed audience. ‘Does anybody have anything to say on this matter?’
His question was met with a deathly silence.
‘Hah!’ the king laughed. ‘He was drunk. Damned heathen, absolute hypocrite. One smell of a brandy bottle and he just couldn’t get enough.’
Jabuti sighed so heavily that he was convinced that it echoed loudly off the walls.
‘Good riddance I say. What was I going to do with the bloody chap, anyway? It’s done me a favour really,’ the king said. ‘I want the rest of those Moors gone with the priest by the end of the day.’
‘Certainly, your majesty,’ Rodrigo said.
‘Don Diego?’
‘Yes, my lord?’
‘I trust you have all the men and provisions you need?’
‘Yes, we do. Most generous, sir.’
‘Well, I expect to see a return on my investment after paying the sultan’s ransom as well.’
‘It is common practice, I’m afraid,’ Don Diego informed the king.
‘Yes, yes,’ he said irritably. ‘I do not wish to hear any more on the subject.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Well, I think that concludes our business I believe,’ the king said. ‘It has been a most interesting couple of days indeed. The queen is not happy though, but then she never is.’
They all gave their thanks to the king and prepared to leave.
‘Oh, just one more thing,’ the king said. ‘I wish to have a final word with this Jabuti fellow; alone.’
Don Diego shared a surprised look with Jabuti and left them alone as requested.
‘Funny thing, that business with Zineb, don’t you think?’
‘They’re not used to drinking, your majesty,’ Jabuti said.
‘Come now, young fellow. We both know the truth.’
Jabuti’s heart leapt into his mouth at these words.
‘I know you killed him,’ the king said leaning in so close that Jabuti could smell his foul, unwashed skin. ‘You were seen walking with him yesterday.’
Jabuti flinched and could not hide the terror in his eyes.
‘But do not worry, my friend. Your secret is safe with me. I will not shed a tear over his demise.’
‘How do you know that it is true?’ Jabuti said trying hard to keep calm.
‘I have spies everywhere,’ came the reply. ‘Now I know you must be related to the Count-Duke. He was a man of honour and would do anything to protect the ones he loved. I do not need to know your intentions, but I know you did it to protect others.’
Jabuti opened his mouth to explain, but found that no words could be found.
‘You have suffered enough, young man,’ the king said. ‘Tarry no longer, return to the land you call home and find your friend.’
Despite the difference in their social stations in life, Jabuti felt a sense of kinship towards the man who sat before him. The king, deformed and misunderstood by all those around him had suffered, much like Jabuti. Even though the cause of Jabuti’s pain was not as evident as the king’s, Jabuti empathised with him, nonetheless. As Jabuti was about to leave, the king gave Jabuti a finely lacquered wooden box.
‘Open it,’ he said with a smile.
Jabuti did so and marvelled at its contents. For in it lay two finely crafted pistols, inlaid with mother-of-pearl and buffed to a high sheen.
‘They were a gift from a foreign ambassador,’ the king said. ‘I receive such gifts all the time. I have no need of them.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You never know when they will prove useful.’
The king gave Jabuti a warm handshake and then shuffled away.
‘What was that about?’ Esteban asked as Jabuti joined his friends.
‘He gave me these,’ was all Jabuti could say, showing them the pistols.
Esteban whistled upon seeing them.
‘That is indeed a fine honour,’ Don Diego said.
‘Do you now see the qualities that you possess?’ Rodrigo said. ‘It is not every day that one receives a gift from a king.’
Jabuti smiled.
‘I need to bid my farewell to Andrea,’ Esteban said. ‘I will join you shortly.’
Esteban felt sick to the stomach as the thought of leaving Andrea finally hit him and memories of the first time they were separated came flooding back. But now that they were finally together, Esteban had a reason for returning and remaining safe. Arriving at her doorstep, he took a deep breath, put on a brave smile and entered the house.
‘Hello, my love,’ Andrea said holding Jeronimo.
‘Just what I have always longed for,’ he smiled.
‘What is?’
‘A family all of my own,’ he said embracing them both.
‘Oh, my love. We will miss you.’
‘I must not tarry, the others are waiting for me. If I stay any longer, I fear that I shall never leave your side.’
‘Be safe,’ she said. ‘We will be waiting here for you.’
Esteban smiled bravely holding back the tears. ‘Farewell, my beauty,’ he said closing the door behind him.
It took every ounce of strength he had to continue walking as tears clouded his vision.
Esteban returned to the others to hear Zineb’s men shouting and hollering.
‘What are they saying, Rodrigo?’ Don Diego asked.
‘They’re saying that Zineb has been murdered, and they refuse to leave until the perpetrator is put to justice.’
Jabuti flinched upon hearing this.
‘I’ve had enough of this!’ Esteban said bristling. ‘Now, please translate what I say, word for word.’
Rodrigo nodded and began translating as Esteban addressed the angry men.
‘Remember, that you are guests in this land and that your safety relies upon the goodwill of the king.’ Esteban paused and stared directly at the men. ‘The king’s patience wears thin...’ he paused. ‘Zineb died through his own wrong-doing. I am to leave for Valencia, but the king is sending several of his guards to make sure that you leave this land in peace. Do you understand?’
Despite a murmur of grumbling the men nodded their assent and walked away.
‘I will see you in Cadiz,’ Esteban said to Don Diego and Jabuti.
Turning to Rodrigo, he said. ‘It has been a pleasure to be reunited once more.’
‘Likewise, my friend.’
‘May I have a word in private?’
‘Of course, Esteban.’
Walking away a short distance, Esteban said, ‘Please tell Isabella that I will take care of Jeronimo as if he were my own flesh and blood.’
‘There is no doubt about that.’
‘I have much to do in Valencia to prepare the ship for the voyage, so this will be the last time I see you. Jabuti will take your departure very hard I suspect.’
‘He has become like a son to me, I will miss him terribly.’
‘Please look after him whilst I’m gone.’
‘I will, Esteban.’
With that, they walked back to the group, and without further ado, Esteban mounted his horse and rode away with the king’s men.
‘Come, Jabuti, let us return to Cadiz, and you can be reunited with your father,’ Don Diego said.
And so, they returned on the long and dusty road that had brought them to Madrid. With one part of the puzzle completed, Jabuti felt one step closer to being reunited with both his father and Wanadi. Their journey was unadventurous, and Jabuti enjoyed spending the remaining time chatting with Don Diego and Rodrigo. The Moors were unusually quiet and compliant, but occasionally they could be heard grumbling and complaining, especially when they saw Jabuti and his friends take turns riding the magnificent Andalusian horses, whilst they had to make do riding mangy mules.
As they ate up the miles, they soon arrived upon the outskirts of Cadiz.
Upon entering the town, Don Diego said, ‘I must see to my affairs, gentlemen. I have been absent for too long, but we shall meet later on today.’
‘Of course, Don Diego,’ Jabuti said. ‘Thank you for all your help.’
‘A most magnificent ride indeed,’ he said climbing down from his ride. ‘Shame that his beauty will be wasted upon such a heathen.’
‘Are you ready to see your father?’ Rodrigo asked Jabuti.
Jabuti nodded and followed him to the church where he had left his father in an uncertain condition all those weeks ago.
The heavy wooden door creaked loudly, echoing off the cavernous stone walls. They entered its comforting and cooling interior and stood there, enjoying the stillness and quiet. Soon they heard a familiar clacking sound reverberating throughout the building as father Francisco shuffled into view, leaning heavily upon his cane.
‘Brother Francisco,’ Rodrigo said.
‘Who greets me?’ he shouted.
‘It is I, Rodrigo. I have Jabuti with me, he longs to see his father.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘What is it?’ Jabuti said rushing forwards.
‘I don’t know how to tell you this...’
‘What is it?’
‘Your father. He died this morning.’