Christians were afraid to go anywhere near it, making it seem more like a leper colony than a neighbourhood.
First Jews had been forced to wear special badges on their garments, and then the tall, thick walls had come, segregating them from their Christian friends and neighbours. Shame on Sagrat, David thought, and shame on Spain. “A plague on the duke and his bastard lackey, Garcia,” he mumbled angrily whilst he was at it.
Swinging open a wooden gate, he entered the Jewry. After only a few paces, he came upon an abandoned semi-demolished house and decided that the building would be as good a place as any to leave the girl. As with most doorways, David had to stoop his tall frame to enter. After accustoming his eyes to the darkness, he looked about him. Whoever had lived there had probably stripped the house bare before leaving. All that remained in the room was an old rag lying on a dirt floor, which had once been covered in wooden boards, judging by a few splintered pieces of pinewood that still remained in places. This must have belonged to an affluent family, for only the very best of houses had a wood covering on the ground.
David set the child down in a corner of the room where the stone wall was still intact. She craned her neck and looked up at his great height with an expression of bewilderment, which David found even more pitiful than her crying. After spreading the fine blanket on top of the dirty ground, he laid the girl upon it, and then wrapped it about her body and bare feet as best he could. For a moment, he sat with her, stroking her hair and soothing her with softly spoken words. Her eyes blinked with tiredness and then drooped with exhaustion.
“I’ll come back for you,” he whispered when her eyes finally closed in sleep. “I’ll take you to a nice warm bed and you’ll have some milk … I’m sorry – so sorry for everything.”
Blinded by his tears, he left the house, rocking the infant, whose mouth was open and searching for his mother’s teat. “Please don’t cry,” he begged the baby.
The house’s wooden door was withered, but he managed to close it behind him and click the latch into place. There were no guarantees the girl inside would sleep on or remain quiet until he got back to her, he thought, but she would be safe enough. She was just a baby and wouldn’t be able to leave the house on her own. Leaving the house wasn’t his biggest worry, he then realised. If she screamed loudly enough, she’d be heard, causing an onslaught of questions to arise in this neighbourhood.
He didn’t regret saving her, he kept telling himself as he hurried on. She had multiplied his problems tenfold, but no, he would rather cut off his hands than harm her. He pushed all thoughts of the girl away. He’d done everything he could, and for the moment, she was in God’s hands, not his.
David struggled up an uneven rocky path which began at the very bottom of the hill. From the plain below, this narrow track looked like a piece of white rope wrapped around the entire mound in what seemed like never-ending circles. This was probably the most treacherous route to the north-east gate. He was climbing the steepest part of the hill, right to its crest. It was rarely used by anyone, apart from goat herders.
He set off at a steady pace, but after a while, his breathing quickened and became laboured. He felt as though he were running up the hill instead of walking at a snail’s pace, which was all he could manage to do in the dark. His skin was moist, his tunic damp with perspiration, but there was no time to stop and rest. He thanked God that the town was below him, and he believed that no one else would be stupid enough to walk this road at this time of night. The babe slept on, no doubt comforted by his body heat, and he calculated that in less than an hour, he’d reach the wall and gate, his mission completed and the horrific night almost over.
Chapter Seven
As David approached the
First Jews had been forced to wear special badges on their garments, and then the tall, thick walls had come, segregating them from their Christian friends and neighbours. Shame on Sagrat, David thought, and shame on Spain. “A plague on the duke and his bastard lackey, Garcia,” he mumbled angrily whilst he was at it.
Swinging open a wooden gate, he entered the Jewry. After only a few paces, he came upon an abandoned semi-demolished house and decided that the building would be as good a place as any to leave the girl. As with most doorways, David had to stoop his tall frame to enter. After accustoming his eyes to the darkness, he looked about him. Whoever had lived there had probably stripped the house bare before leaving. All that remained in the room was an old rag lying on a dirt floor, which had once been covered in wooden boards, judging by a few splintered pieces of pinewood that still remained in places. This must have belonged to an affluent family, for only the very best of houses had a wood covering on the ground.
David set the child down in a corner of the room where the stone wall was still intact. She craned her neck and looked up at his great height with an expression of bewilderment, which David found even more pitiful than her crying. After spreading the fine blanket on top of the dirty ground, he laid the girl upon it, and then wrapped it about her body and bare feet as best he could. For a moment, he sat with her, stroking her hair and soothing her with softly spoken words. Her eyes blinked with tiredness and then drooped with exhaustion.
“I’ll come back for you,” he whispered when her eyes finally closed in sleep. “I’ll take you to a nice warm bed and you’ll have some milk … I’m sorry – so sorry for everything.”
Blinded by his tears, he left the house, rocking the infant, whose mouth was open and searching for his mother’s teat. “Please don’t cry,” he begged the baby.
The house’s wooden door was withered, but he managed to close it behind him and click the latch into place. There were no guarantees the girl inside would sleep on or remain quiet until he got back to her, he thought, but she would be safe enough. She was just a baby and wouldn’t be able to leave the house on her own. Leaving the house wasn’t his biggest worry, he then realised. If she screamed loudly enough, she’d be heard, causing an onslaught of questions to arise in this neighbourhood.
He didn’t regret saving her, he kept telling himself as he hurried on. She had multiplied his problems tenfold, but no, he would rather cut off his hands than harm her. He pushed all thoughts of the girl away. He’d done everything he could, and for the moment, she was in God’s hands, not his.
David struggled up an uneven rocky path which began at the very bottom of the hill. From the plain below, this narrow track looked like a piece of white rope wrapped around the entire mound in what seemed like never-ending circles. This was probably the most treacherous route to the north-east gate. He was climbing the steepest part of the hill, right to its crest. It was rarely used by anyone, apart from goat herders.
He set off at a steady pace, but after a while, his breathing quickened and became laboured. He felt as though he were running up the hill instead of walking at a snail’s pace, which was all he could manage to do in the dark. His skin was moist, his tunic damp with perspiration, but there was no time to stop and rest. He thanked God that the town was below him, and he believed that no one else would be stupid enough to walk this road at this time of night. The babe slept on, no doubt comforted by his body heat, and he calculated that in less than an hour, he’d reach the wall and gate, his mission completed and the horrific night almost over.
Chapter Seven
As David approached the
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