The evening started well enough. The wazir must have busied himself with the sultan’s work and did not seek out the two daughters of the harem.
Five of the strangers’ women and three of their children joined them for the evening meal. One lad, a bit younger than Ara with round cheeks, ginger curls and a surly expression, sat arguing with his mother. The two younger boys, dressed in velvet and silk, had the most amazing golden hair that curled at their shoulders. Ara kept stealing looks at their hair, unable to believe it was real, until Zoriah quietly pinched her and whispered, “Stop staring.”
Ara looked elsewhere, glad for the reminder. Layla leaned toward her, “A horizontal symmetry.” And there it was, low to the ground near the floor, a flower pattern that almost crawled across the wall.
Ara hugged her cousin and said so only Layla could hear, “We’ll find the broken one soon. We have to.”
Ara’s father had introduced the foreign women to his wives and female relatives and offered Ara as interpreter before he left to join the men. They had strange names that were hard to keep straight—Lady Anna, Lady Theresa, Lady Catalina, Sister Mary and Sister Helena. The first three were married to lords who were off discussing the trade treaty with the sultan. The other two, wearing hijabs similar to Islamic women, said—or Ara thought they said—they were sisters married to Christ. It seemed unlikely, as he had been dead for some time. To make their point, they showed Ara gifts of jewelry from Him. Rosaries, they said, adorning their necks. The necklaces were made of rose petals rolled into tight balls and strung like beads.
Ara had seen a similar necklace on Tahirah, only it was called a tasbih. The Sisters seemed to take great pleasure in theirs as they touched them often during dinner.
The meal was served in the Mirador de Lindaraja, a rectangular room off the Hall of the Two Sisters. It was an elegant room with low, arched windows that looked out over the countryside. Above was a stained glass ceiling that seemed to twinkle as the light penetrated it.
The Christian women had difficulty attempting to sit down to eat. Their garments, Lady Anna explained as she tugged impatiently at her clothes, were unsuited to sitting on the floor. After some contortions and rearranging of cushions, everyone was seated and the meal was brought in.
Course after course arrived: figs and olives to start, then doves in pomegranate sauce, chicken with salted lemons, goat roasted with spices, eggplant sautéed and dotted with sesame seeds, fava beans with olive oil drizzled on top, carrots cooked with mint and cinnamon, and roasted almonds.
The ewers of water caused some confusion. One of the women poured herself what she believed was watered wine. Ara hastily translated for Zoriah that the water was to wash their hands.
Although the guests seemed hesitant about some of the dishes, the banquet was going well. They admired the decorated ceramic plates on which food was served. Sister Mary explained, delicately touching the plates, that normally they used wooden trenchers and that the beauty of these surpassed any she had seen. Ara promptly passed the compliment to Zoriah, who smiled with pleasure.
Rabab was delighted with the gift of a cage full of brightly colored birds—parakeets, they were called. Lady Anna leaned over, pointing to one of the birds. It could talk, she said, but not understand. The Arab women, in return, gifted the Christians with a beautiful metal box inlaid with gold and silver designs and two large ceramic serving bowls with an opaque white glaze decorated in green and blue designs.
The ginger-haired boy, who had been complaining steadily to his mother, spit out a piece of food. Ara quickly glanced away.
All eyes drifted over to him, and all became aware that he ate with his left hand. Maryam’s eyes widened. Zoriah, after a double take, looked determinedly at her plate. Ara looked anywhere but at him. Three or four servants stopped in their tracks but caught themselves after a sharp glance from Zoriah. Layla wrinkled her nose and carefully studied her food. As the smallest child knew, the left hand was for cleaning after bodily functions, never for eating. Ara thanked Allah she wasn’t sharing her plate with him.
Rabab was filling her plate with an eggplant dish until she too noticed the child scooping up food with his left hand. Her mouth flew open and she blurted, “That’s disgusting.” The foreign woman seated next to Ara smiled uncertainly and asked, “What did she say?”
Ara struggled. “She, um, she said…”
“Ara, what did she ask you?” Zoriah interrupted.
“She wants to know what Rabab said,” Ara replied with a pleading look.
“Of course,” Zoriah answered, nodding and smiling pleasantly at the woman. “Tell her that Rabab had an attack of indigestion, to which she is subject.” Still smiling, she turned to Rabab. “You will not make another outburst.”
Ara dutifully repeated Zoriah’s words to Lady Anna, who smiled back but seemed unconvinced.
“What was just said?” she wanted to know.
“She was expressing concern for Rabab’s health,” Ara said with a straight face. Translating was more complex than she had imagined.
“Would you repeat their names for me once more?”
“The one who just spoke is Zoriah. She is Father’s head wife. Next to her is Maryam, Layla’s mother and my aunt. Rabab is, um, the one with digestion problems. She is my mother’s mother’s sister. I think you would say great aunt. Layla, my cousin and best friend, is sitting next to me, and my name is Ara.”
“Thank you,” Lady Anna said. “You’re a very sweet child.”
The ginger-haired boy raised his voice, making it hard to ignore him. “Mama, I can’t eat this. I want beef, not food for dogs.” He pushed his legs out to the side. “Why must we sit on the floor? I bet Father and the other men are not eating on the floor like paupers.”
“Enrique, try not to fuss, dear. I know this isn’t how we normally eat, but try to be pleasant. Your father has his reasons. This fall he’ll make you a page. Then you’ll be with the men.” His mother patted him on the cheek.
Lady Anna, sitting next to Ara, sat rigid and turned slightly pink.
“Ara,” Zoriah asked. “Is there a problem?”
Lady Anna spoke, “Ara, what did she ask?”
“She wants to know what’s wrong,” Ara answered uncomfortably.
“Tell her the child has a stomach ache from traveling,” Lady Anna said, looking directly into her eyes.
“The boy is in poor health and misses his father,” Ara translated.
“Can we get anything for him? Mint tea or a purgative?” Zoriah asked suspiciously.
Ara translated again.
“No. Thank her for her concern,” Lady Anna responded before muttering under her breath. “He and I are going to have a talk. We’ll be right back.” She turned to Lady Theresa as she wrestled the boy out of the hall. “I’ll not have your child behave this badly when we’re on a delicate mission. Either you control your son or I will.” As she left, her voice carried, “Enrique, mind your manners right now or your father will be told of your dreadful behavior.”
“What is going on?” Zoriah said, looking from one to the other.
“She asked him if he wants mint tea. He thought a walk might help,” Ara ad-libbed.
Zoriah, Maryam and Rabab looked at Ara, their eyebrows were drawn down in disbelief.
With Lady Anna and the ginger-haired boy’s hasty departure, conversation lagged. Neither group seemed to know what to say to the other—an uncomfortable silence filled the room. The other two younger boys cleaned their plates with nary a peep.
Before the last course was served, a grim-faced Lady Anna reappeared with the sullen boy. She shot him a warning glance as he jerked his arm away and sat beside his mother.
“The child feels better?” Zoriah questioned delicately.
Ara translated.
“Oh, yes, his stomach is better, much better, thank you,” Lady Anna replied, her smile forced.
Servants cleared the banquet foods, and others appeared with mint tea and dessert. Zoriah motioned Layla and Ara over.
“This would be a good time for entertainment. Ara, get your lute, please, and Layla will dance.”
Ara explained to their guests that Layla would entertain them with a traditional dance, and sat down to tune her lute.
The women arranged themselves in a semicircle along the sides of the room. The boys clustered together and talked quietly among themselves.
Once Layla was ready, Ara started playing the music of her people. In her mind’s eye, she envisioned wild windblown lands stretching forever toward a night sky that capped them like an upside-down bowl. Stars sparkled like fistfuls of diamonds thrown up into the sky. Dark blue mountains loomed in the distance. A herd of camels huddled together against the cold of the dark desert evening. She heard a camel call that dissolved into the ginger haired boy’s snort.
He pointed at Layla and snorted again with laughter. She looked up to see if any adults noticed. Didn’t look like it. Zoriah and Maryam smiled at Layla as she danced. Rabab’s eyes were closed and her mouth gaped slightly. Asleep again. Lady Anna gently tapped her knee in time to the music. Christ’s wives and other ladies watched with polite but uncomfortable expressions on their faces. Ara ducked her head and continued playing, fiercely concentrating on her music.
She heard the boy’s snort once again and almost lost a beat. He whispered loudly to the golden-haired boys, “Look at the way she wiggles.”
Ara gritted her teeth and kept playing. Her grip on the lute neck tightened as thoughts of throttling one ginger-haired infidel tumbled about her mind. Father would be at war, the Alhambra would be lost—all because she attacked a pudgy boy. Allah would understand.
In her fury, Ara missed the white-robed figure who stood quietly observing at the entryway.
She snuck an angry look at the boy and was startled to see he had a slingshot pulled taut and pointed at Layla. She dropped her lute and shouted, “No.” Too late, she knew. The slingshot snapped and ricocheted back. The boy was hit smack in his mouth. He screamed and several adults leaped to his aid. Lady Anna walked over with a grim look and picked up the broken slingshot, displaying it to the mother trying to calm her howling boy. The other Christians were distressed and then angry as they deciphered the situation. One of Christ’s wives started fingering the beads in her rosary.
Maryam stood protectively by her daughter. Zoriah seemed unsure quite how to react. Rabab was now awake and confused. And Allah’s blessing upon them, Tahirah stood in the doorway, calmly surveying the scene.
Lady Anna spoke first, trembling in rage. “The boy will be punished, I assure you.”
Tahirah gazed at the boy’s bloodied nose and lip, before saying in her perfect Castilian Spanish, “I believe Justice has already been provided.”