The Holy Sail by Abdulaziz Al-Mahmoud

would you stop them marrying, Rabbi?’ Covilhã asked, with his usual pragmatism.
    The rabbi waved his hand in front of Covilhã’s face, as if throwing something at him to get his attention. ‘We have beautiful young women that many young Muslims would like nothing better than to wed. But if we let those women marry outside their community, the Jewish faith would be lost! I am trying my best to prevent this intermixing, which will be harmful in the long run. But believe me, it’s very difficult. Love stories in this country are too many; it’s as if the Yemenites were born to love!’
    Covilhã stood up and gestured to Paiva. The two men then bade the rabbi farewell and left.
    Several days passed. By now, they had gathered a mountain of information. Covilhã and Paiva stood at the port of Aden, saying goodbye to one another. Paiva had to board a ship manned by an African captain and crew to take him to his destination on the African coast. Then, a few days later,Covilhã would be going to board an Arab ship, which would take him to Muscat.
    Covilhã embraced his friend tightly. He said, ‘We will meet in Alexandria in August a year from now. If anything happens, you must write a letter to our friend in Alexandria informing him of your situation, and I will do the same. Now go, my friend!’
    Paiva reluctantly boarded the ship, and turned to wave silently to his friend who was still on the pier. Moments later, noises echoed from inside the ship. Ropes dropped from the top of the mast, and the sail filled with wind. The ship began to move westward.
    Covilhã sat down and watched the ship carrying his friend as it sailed further away. He wiped the sweat from his face with the tail of his turban.
    He thought back to the mountain village near the Spanish border where he had been born and his tireless efforts to recover his family fortune, which had consisted of a farm located at the foot of a hill overlooking a secluded green valley. His elderly father had sobbed as he told Covilhã that the farm had been confiscated by order of the king because Jews and Muslims no longer had the right to own property. Covilhã had not understood why the farm was taken from them, and how worshipping the Lord in a different way could cause such pain. Why would the king intervene between people and the god they worshipped? Covilhã had decided afterwards to get close to the centre of power; if power was the cause of the disaster that befell him and his family, then why should he not be close to it and benefit from it? He had put a cross around his neck and made for Lisbon.
    He ultimately became an interpreter at the court of the Portuguese king, and used his language skills to get closer and closer to the king himself, learning Arabic and Latin and French, in addition to the Portuguese and Castilian that he already knew. He once served as representative of the king of Portugal on a mission to rescue Prince Fernando, the king’s brother who had been captured at the Battle of Tangier. Not long after that, he worked as a spy for the king in the court of the king of Castile to identify his opponents. The king staged a bloodbath after Covilhã sent him a list of people conspiring against him. This was a pivotal moment in his career, following which he became close to the king and part of his retinue.
    Aden’s intense heat brought him back to the present. He glanced toward Paiva’s ship, now barely visible in the distance, and leaving a broad wake in its trail.
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5
 
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    Alexandria, Egypt
    Hussein Al-Kurdi lay on his bed in the fort. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling. A light breeze blew in from the window. As was his wont, his mind was crowded with too many thoughts: the endless battles between the Mamluks and the Ottomans; the collapse of trade in Alexandria; the rampant poverty, corruption and violent crime. The road between Cairo and Alexandria was no longer safe,