More Bones by Arielle North Olson Page B

merely befriending non-Christians like the Moor. But how could he abandon someone in need? He nodded to the old man, and led his donkey home along the shadowy back streets. His biggest worry was what his wife would say when he helped the Moor into their house.
    â€œYou will bring trouble down on our heads,” she cried the moment she saw him.
    â€œHe’s sick,” Peregil said. “We can’t leave him in the street.” He placed a mat and a sheepskin on the floor and helped the old man lie down. Peregil and his wife continued to argue while the Moor slept. But when the man began to shake uncontrollably, Peregil rushed to his side.
    â€œMy life is about to end,” the old man whispered, “but I want to reward you for your kindness.” He slipped a shaking hand beneath his robe and pulled forth a small sandalwood box. “This is for you.” Then he mumbled only a word or two more before he drew his last breath.
    Peregil thought that he might have said “treasure,” but he wasn’t sure. Besides, he was much too upset about the man’s death to even think about what the box might contain.
    His wife broke into tears. “Now we will be accused of murder!”
    â€œJust help me!” Peregil replied. The two of them managed to roll the sleeping mat around the corpse and heave the bundle onto the back of the donkey.
    It was still dark out, so Peregil led his donkey to the riverbank and buried the corpse in the sand. Then he led the donkey back home and went to sleep. He was sure that no one had seen him bring the Moor into his house or take his body away.
    Unfortunately, a gossipy neighbor had been peering out the window that night. He was the local barber, and he loved gathering scraps of news to pass along to his customers. He had watched Peregil arrive with the Moor, and he had seen him take the body away. The barber had even thrown on his clothes and shadowed the water carrier all the way to the river, where he saw him bury the corpse.
    The next morning, the barber rushed to the house of his first customer, a corrupt government official. He was early, but he could hardly wait to share his news.
    â€œLast night I saw robbery, murder, and a burial,” he gasped, still out of breath from running. He dramatized every detail that he could remember or could imagine.
    The official’s eyes opened wide. There was opportunity here. If there had been a robbery, there must be a pile of money that the scheming official could claim for himself—supposedly in the name of justice.
    The barber had barely begun the haircut when the official shoved him aside and stormed out of the house to find Peregil.
    The water carrier had arisen early to fill his jugs. He was already walking through the city, shouting, “Who wants water from the well of the Alhambra, cold as ice and clear as crystal?”
    â€œI want more than water,” barked the official, grabbing Peregil by the collar. “Tell me where you have hidden the booty.”
    Peregil turned pale. “I robbed no one,” he cried.
    The official shook him. “I know everything,” he said. “I could throw you in jail for murder.” His eyes narrowed. “But it was only a Moor. Maybe I can look the other way if you give me the Moor’s money.”
    Only a Moor? Peregil couldn’t understand such cruelty. “God smite me if I lie. I did not kill the Moor, but he did leave me a sandalwood box.”
    He was so sure that the official would not be interested in what was inside the box that he took him home to see it. The official grabbed the box, but he was terribly disappointed when only a scroll with Arabic characters and the stub of a wax candle tumbled out.
    The greedy official lost interest in Peregil’s case. Obviously there was no money to be had. He listened briefly to the water carrier’s explanations and decided he was innocent. He allowed Peregil to keep the useless