The Horse Healer (10 page)

“He knows Arabic,” Benazir interrupted.

“You really understand it?”

Diego opened to a page and began to translate the first paragraph. Gerardo de Cremona stood behind him, confirming the young man was right in almost everything he read.

“Really, you wouldn't have much difficulty in reading it.”

“I don't think I could pay for it, but could I come some afternoons to consult it?”

“Diego, allow me to give it to you,” Benazir exclaimed, proud of her student's progress. “You'll see, it will help us with our classes.”

“I don't know if I should …” Diego hesitated.

“It's decided. I will take two books, my husband's and this one.”

Once in the street, Benazir was happy to see the smile on the boy's face. He held on to the book as though it was his very soul, and his face reflected his overwhelming gladness. Benazir walked at his side, satisfied with what she had done. She felt comfortable beside a boy so full of nobility, simplicity, and talent.

She looked at him sideways and saw he was doing the same. She felt a strong temptation to embrace him, but they were in the middle of the street. It couldn't be. …

A few streets farther on, they came across the men from the tavern again and one of them recognized them.

“Mix with Moors,” he said, “and you'll get contaminated with the evil they carry around inside.”

Benazir kept Diego from looking at him.

“Don't get angry, I beg you.” She lowered her head and asked him to keep walking.

“But …”

“That is how they see us; there is nothing we can do. They also call us the king's Moors, because we belong to him the way the Jews do. We are
mudajjan
, mudéjars, free Muslims, permitted to live, pray, and work in Christian lands, but in these turbulent times, it is very hard to find peace. That is the truth. That's how it is.”

“Leave your slave with us and we'll send her back happier than she is with you,” another insisted, making an obscene face.

Diego couldn't resist and leapt at the second man even though he was clearly twice his age. Perhaps because he caught him by surprise, Diego managed to knock the man down and hit his face with punches. But the same didn't happen with the rest. They responded in kind, without paying attention to Benazir's cries for help, falling on Diego and beating him so badly that blood soon stained his clothes and ran over the paving stones in the street. Fortunately, a knight arrived with various neighbors to stop the bloodbath, because otherwise, it could have proved fatal for Diego.

Hours later the boy rested in Galib's house at Benazir's firm request. His side hurt. A doctor had just examined him and had not found any fractures, but a few of his ribs were damaged and he had abundant scratches and bruising. He rubbed him down with a thick salve on the affected area, which relieved him a great deal, and then he bandaged Diego tightly.

From that moment, Benazir did not leave him even for a second. She relieved the burning of his wounds with a damp cloth. Where she saw a bit of inflammation, she rapidly covered it with a paste made from willow leaves. She had him drink a liquid she had boiled with the bark from the same tree to soothe his pains, and she gave him a piece of sugarcane to bite so it wouldn't be so bitter.

“I'm sorry, everything was my fault. I owe you a favor.”

She pulled back her veil and took his hand, kissing it in gratitude for his reaction. And suddenly Diego saw how her eyes strayed over his nude torso, young and muscular. Benazir looked at it, feeling a strong urge to caress it, to kiss it, though she immediately rejected those thoughts. Startled, she stood up brusquely and turned toward a balcony to take in a bit of fresh air.

“Do you feel bad?” Diego asked, surprised by that abrupt action.

“Worse than I had even imagined. …”

XV.

E
ven when she would leave, her perfume was still notable for hours in the room.

Diego smelled his hands and she was there. He tried with the sheets and recognized her as well. Benazir never left that room.

He had been staying in Galib's house for four days, forced to remain there until his wounds had completely healed. He felt well, but the doctor had the last word and he still hadn't given his approval.

At the beginning, Diego had offered innumerable objections to staying in the house, but soon he realized it would allow him to be near Benazir every day, and he stopped protesting.

She passed the hours at his side, sewing, reading him poetry, and above all, telling her stories. She gave him enough clues to understand her past, and with her tales, he found himself transported to Persia. As the days passed, the conversations became more intimate and Benazir began to share some of her dreams and feelings as well.

In that atmosphere of trust, Diego took interest in the most intimate aspects of her personality, and soon his doubts blossomed, the first indications that she was living in a deteriorating relationship.

Sometimes she would sit close to him on the bed, to care for his wounds, and then Diego would think he was dying. That became a ritual rife with sensuality. First, when he was turned around, she would take off the bandage from the day before and clean the wound with a cloth soaked in warm water, very slowly, washing him afterward with its other side. Her other hand almost always rested on his shoulder, or in different places on his back. Diego concentrated on feeling the tenuous warmth of her skin, its smooth touch. Then she would ask him to turn over so she could see the cut on his neck. It was then that he had her closest to him. He would focus on her eyes, on her sensual mouth and the tautness of her cheeks. When she tried to clear away the small bits of blood or scabs, her hair would fall freely over him, grazing his chest, his face.

Diego felt her so close sometimes that he had to grasp the sheets in his hands, almost tie himself to them, so he wouldn't wrap his arms behind the woman's back.

In the afternoons, by candlelight, Benazir would enjoy reciting him some poem of Arabic origin. And that was another of those moments of special emotion. Diego would close his eyes and concentrate on reciting the soft whisper of her words in his interior, the cadence of her tone, the pauses, the restrained breath; Diego absorbed every small detail that flowered from that woman, plunged into happiness and joy.

One of those afternoons, Diego decided to leave the bedroom to stretch his swollen legs. He felt impatient to take back up his normal life and he decided to force the doctor to give him a good bill of health the next day.

He didn't see anyone; he only heard his own footsteps. He thought that the servants must already be sleeping downstairs, and he only saw light emanating from Galib's bedroom. Between his own room and that of his master there was a glassed-in gallery that opened onto a lit yard. As he crossed it, he saw that the door of those rooms was open and he saw Benazir inside, next to Galib. The growing darkness that enveloped him made it so no one could realize he was there. He was curious and he stayed there quiet, observing them.

Benazir was wearing a white nightgown, very thin. She had just given Galib a tightly wrapped package. He was concentrating on opening it and with great emotion he took out the book he had chosen from the translator's workshop. With so much going on in the house, she hadn't had time to give it to him before. Diego heard him say thanks and then he immediately embraced her.

While she was being kissed, Benazir loosened the cord that held her gown to her neck and half of her body was revealed. When Diego saw her naked back, he felt a shiver of emotion, a strange anxiousness, a great inner heat. And in that moment, he wanted to be Galib, to receive her in his arms, undress her completely, try the taste of her skin.

And yet his master didn't seem to recognize the passionate intentions of his wife, and he pulled away from her to examine the book. He opened it and began to turn pages, lost in himself. Benazir turned her back to him in disappointment and walked to the door, with half her body exposed. And then she saw Diego. Her first reaction was to cover herself, but almost immediately she took her hands from the cloth that covered her and the fabric fell to the floor. Diego felt moved without knowing what to do. He did not know whether to stop looking, to leave, or to approach her.

Their gazes met and he read the frustration in her eyes, and he thought he saw pain, too, provoked by her husband's disdain. He, though, wanted her. …

He swallowed and his saliva tasted bitter. It wasn't right what he was doing. It was as if he was stealing an intimacy that didn't belong to him. For that reason, he turned and ran from the gallery. He needed to breathe, to get a bit of fresh air and meditate on what he had just seen.

He looked for Sabba in the stables, and without saddling her, he mounted her and left the house. His entire body hurt, but his pain transcended the physical.

He crossed the streets of Toledo perplexed. He still felt the palpitations in his heart and continued to see her before him, so lovely …

“Sabba, I have to tell you something. … That woman has me under a spell. Take me to our house. I can't go on here.”

The mare reared her head back, caressing him with her mane, and neighed softly, as though trying to calm him with those warm sounds. Diego held on to her without directing, and closed his eyes, pensive and without thinking of what path they had taken.

To his surprise, Sabba didn't take him to their house, but rather to the outskirts of Toledo, to another place he found familiar, Fatima's home. The animal stopped close to her door and whinnied. The boy heard bells and counted to ten. He needed to speak to someone and Fatima was a woman, she was his age, and she would understand. He congratulated Sabba for her decision and dismounted.

“But what are you saying? Isn't that your master's wife?” Fatima was shocked by what she had just heard.

“I know. … It's absurd.”

“Not just that, if he finds out, you are gambling with your life and a promising future.”

Diego kicked a rock inside Kabirma's granary, where they had gone to be far from indiscreet ears.

“Your relationship with Galib requires trust and loyalty. I don't want to imagine what could happen if you don't control yourself. Besides, that woman is much older than you. I don't know …”

“But she is so beautiful. … You're completely right, Fatima. But I feel crazy when I see her. She possesses something around her that attracts me savagely, until I can't take it anymore. Do you understand me? Do you think it's normal what is happening?”

Fatima observed him. More than a year had passed, but he was no longer the boy she'd found weak in the middle of the market. His robust body, his hardened hands, his skin, his ever-warmer gaze, his face …

“It could be you're confusing her intentions.”

“I don't think so, not anymore.” He remembered her naked in front of him.

“Think about it, she feels attractive and desired by you, and she might do things she doesn't really want to do. It happens to me. When I see a man who attracts me, to get his attention I might act in a way that later seems absurd to me. But not in that moment, I don't know, it's like a force of nature makes you show all your seductive power, apart from other things, and that might happen with Benazir and you.”

“You're explaining what happened as if everything was due to the influence of the instincts, and I have those too, believe me.”

“No, it's not just that. Maybe that woman is passing through a difficult moment in her relationship with Galib; she feels discouraged and she sees the opposite of him in you. You just said to me you almost feel yourself dying at her side; she knows it, don't think she doesn't realize. She has seen the power of attraction she wields over you, and if in other circumstances she would have avoided it, now maybe she needs it and that is why she has opened a door for you.”

“I have to get out of her house before temptation defeats me and I end up opening that door.”

“I understand, Diego, but I don't think it's right for you. You still haven't learned enough with Galib; don't waste this opportunity. Be brave, resist temptation, avoid it. I know you can manage. There are many other women in Toledo, and much younger ones, too.”

Diego rubbed his eyes to erase all the memory of what had happened in Galib's house.

“You are strong and intelligent. You should face up to the situation. You have no excuse not to show respect to your master. The consideration Galib has shown you is far from usual between master and apprentice. He loves you, he looks at you like a son. … You have to keep that in mind.”

Diego and Fatima had raised their voices in the course of their conversation. They had gone far from the house to be able to speak without fear, but suddenly, Fatima heard a noise, someone wandering around close to the granary.

She put her hand over Diego's mouth and they hid in a corner. They waited a few seconds in silence.

Diego leaned on a pile of straw and curled up, defeated by the truth of Fatima's words and the weight of his guilt.

Fatima looked at him with pity and approached him to cheer him up. Amid whispers she offered him her confidence and all the support he needed. The girl embraced him to suffuse him with the strength she was capable of giving; then she felt Diego's tenderness, his warmth, his heartbeat, and the strength of his body. She separated from him and fixed her gaze on his lips. They were like that for several endless seconds. Diego felt uncomfortable with that silence.

“Maybe I should go, Fatima. … It's a little late.”

XVI.

S
abba was in danger.

Diego woke up knowing it. He called for her.

He ran as fast as he could through the dark streets of Toledo toward Galib's house. In his rush to get there as soon as possible, he cut through the neighborhood of La Alcaicería, one of the most luxurious markets, and it was a bad decision. He wasn't a thief, but he must have seemed so to the eyes of the guards when they saw him pass through without stopping, even if they had let him through a number of times. They ran behind him though they couldn't catch him; Diego slipped and fell and hit his head very hard. Without losing time, he stood up agilely, filled his lungs with air, and took off even faster than before.

Two streets before he reached the alley where the door to Galib's house was, he could smell it. There was a fire somewhere close by, and he was afraid of where it might be. He clenched his teeth and closed the last few yards of distance without taking a breath. As he was about to arrive, he ran into two men fleeing in the opposite direction. In their eyes he saw hatred; they ran off, and then he saw the flames. They had reached Galib's stables, but not his house. He beat at the gate with all his might, and since no one responded, he leapt over the barrier and ran to the stables, screaming to wake everyone up.

With his shoulder, he knocked down the door to the stables, and when he entered, he was blown back by a gust of heat. Covering his face with his arm, he decided to enter. First he heard the nervous whinny of Sabba and other horses, but he did not hear Sajjad. He looked for him amid the thick smoke that came out between the stalls, near to his narrow quarters, but he didn't find him there, either. The flames began to graze a large pile of straw that divided him from that area. Without losing time, he grabbed an old blanket and threw it over his head. He crossed through the curtain of fire without breathing and kicked the door open. Sajjad woke up and saw him through sleepy eyes.

“Get out of here! The stable's burning! We have to get the animals out now.”

“Sajjad no sleep. … Sajjad help. Run.”

They crossed through the fire again, wrapped in the blanket, then separated to rescue the animals. Diego ran after Sabba. He found her huddled in a corner, with panic in her eyes. A roof beam was burning just next to her. From so much pulling at the rope to free herself, her neck was bleeding. The poor thing was sweating, terrified. They looked at each other. Sabba snorted with fright, though she felt better when she saw her master.

“Hold on. … I'm with you.”

She whinnied loudly.

Diego threw the blanket over the flaming wood and ran over to untie her from the wall. Once she was free, she looked toward the exit, but an enormous column of flame began to rise over the walls and blinded her. Her muscles tensed, her nostrils expanded, and she looked for a way out. She seemed guided by her survival instinct to escape from that hell, but without pulling away completely, she looked at Diego, as though wishing to know first what her master would do. Since she was an animal, her reaction seemed absurd, given the danger they were in, but Diego understood her motivations with great feeling. They should flee, it was urgent, but still, they stayed there a moment, looking at each other. Diego understood was Sabba was thinking. She turned her head toward her flanks and Diego leapt on her back. Like a tightened spring, her hind legs took them from that oven through the fire until they arrived at the courtyard.

Galib and Benazir were there, desperate, moving from one side to the other incessantly. Sajjad was there too with the other animals, some badly burned and hysterical. They all relaxed when they saw him arrive mounted on Sabba, with fire still smoking on her mane. Diego put it out with his own hands and then put his hands around her neck, caressing her tenderly. Diego was crying from joy.

Galib ran up to them, and Benazir as well, and both saw, astonished, that Sabba was crying as well.

Without losing any time, they tried to put out the fire, but it was impossible. The flames spread and engulfed the stables without anyone being able to do anything but rescue the animals.

Galib knew it was useless to try and stave off the fire and simply prayed to Allah that it wouldn't reach the house. When they realized it was impossible to do anything against its devouring fury, Galib asked everyone to throw water onto the façade of the house so the fire wouldn't attack it. If the two structures had been closer, there would have been no use in the efforts they were making, but luckily, between the house and the stables there was a space that acted as a firebreak and kept the flames from following their path.

In the middle of the night, Galib, Benazir, Sajjad, and Diego watched powerless as the dreadful fire consumed the last remains of the stable. And there, exhausted, wearied, and stunned, they saw the effects of it without being able to do anything but think about all they had lost.

“So many years of work …” Galib mourned. “Since my arrival in Toledo I have given everything to be able to build these stables and make a name for myself.”

“Why …?” Benazir embraced her husband. She wanted to console him, but she didn't know how. She felt defeated as well.

Diego remembered the two men he had come across and mentioned them without being able to give any other detail about their identities or intentions.

“What could we have done to them to end up like this?” Benazir asked impotently. “First they attack us in the streets, then they burn our possessions. Galib, don't you think perhaps we should leave?”

He looked at her and then at his helpers, lowered his head, and turned to the ruins of what had been his stables.

Diego left him alone and went to check on the horses that had survived the fire. Some bellowed from pain because of the severe burns they had received. Alarmed by their state, he knew he needed to act quickly. He would have preferred Galib's help, but he could see he was too deeply desolate.

Although he tried to take care of them, he was humiliated by his slow results, and knowing he couldn't take care of all of them, he decided to ask for help. He found Galib crying in the middle of the burned area.

“Galib, if we don't hurry, other horses will die.” His master didn't answer. Diego came closer to him and put his hand on his back. “We will make it through this. … We will get past it. You can count on me.”

With feverish eyes, the man looked at Diego. He saw serenity in the boy's face and became even more touched. Allah had wanted this boy to be at his side and he thanked him for it every night in his prayers. He had earned his post and now he was making a place in Galib's heart.

Galib rose from the floor, leaned on Diego, and walked to where the animals were. When he saw them, he was in agreement. They would have to act fast to save them all.

He left Diego calming down a furious mare and he went to look for a salve he had prepared for burns, a mix of quince and lily oil with an extract of almond bark. Luckily, he found it quickly and they began to spread that paste over the sores that looked the worst; apart from protecting the exposed tissue, it brought the horses relief almost immediately.

The aftermath of the fire was terrible. The stables were all turned into ash, and with them, the fruit of years of labor. Besides that, eight horses had died, five of which weren't Galib's and had only been there to be treated.

For days, Galib wandered around the ruins of the stables in anguish over the disaster, without imagining who could have done that terrible thing to him. In his heart, he preferred to think it hadn't been on purpose, but he knew that many people hated them for the simple fact that they were Muslims.

Galib could have asked for justice, he could have looked for the guilty parties if there were any, but he didn't want to bother anyone, and as always, he preferred to take refuge in his work and to push forward.

In addition to the problem of the lack of stables, there was another, almost worse: the enormous debt he now owed to the owners of the dead animals, which began to feel overwhelming. He owed them more than five hundred
sueldos
, and he had nowhere near that amount. He looked for credit with the Jewish moneylender but what he received wasn't enough to pay even half.

As soon as he heard what had happened, Kabirma came to see him.

“It isn't right what they've done to you!” The trader contemplated that scene of destruction while he walked over the ashes of what was left of the stables.

He and Diego helped Galib look for tools, hinges, horseshoes, anything that could be still useful. The strong burned scent had still not disappeared, and nothing was standing but the furnace and the two anvils for the forge.

Kabirma did not need his friend to give him too many details to deduce the serious economic difficulties Galib was passing through, but he felt incapable of helping pay for the five dead horses, let alone build new stables. He would need them for his profession and they would cost a fortune. In that situation, Kabirma thought once again of the longed-for voyage.

“What better opportunity to get hold of animals from Las Marismas? That way you could end up with better horses and better clients, and for the ones I take and manage to sell, I would give you half my profits.” Galib's face was tense. He still considered the plan too complicated. Even if Kabirma was right, he couldn't see it as feasible.

“My situation right now is critical, Galib. I've gone for weeks without selling anything, since the Arabian horses even bring the attention of customers who end up buying something else. Without them, I'm losing my prestige, and people have started talking. … If I don't do anything, I may even have to close the stand in Zocodover; I can't pay the rent on it.”

Galib listened to him with respect and understood the situation, but even then, he wasn't convinced. He lacked the strength, the will; everything scared him: to stay and not be able to get ahead, to flee and leave his wife alone, if they recognized him and arrested him. … When he said good-bye to Kabirma, his fear showed, although this time he did not give a firm negative.

A few days later, while Diego was examining the progress of the wounded animals, he saw Galib's desperation and couldn't help but relive what he had gone through at the inn.

Almost three years had passed since then, and in addition to his circumstances, he himself had changed. His body had left adolescence behind, and his mind had opened to knowledge, to science, and to his passion for the noblest of professions, that of albéitar.

Diego had also learned to love a culture that was not his and that he had once cursed and hated. Now he saw values and principles as admirable as those of his own religion in the Muslims. From that visceral rejection that had characterized his initial relations with Galib, there had grown inside him a certain understanding that finally became sincere respect. From Benazir and from his master, Diego had learned to distinguish between the goodness of their beliefs and the intolerance of the Almohads' doctrines.

Galib had taught him to recognize and treat the most common horse illnesses and had instilled in him a discipline to comment on and debate everything he read. Now Arabic was not difficult for Diego, and he even memorized what he read without the need to translate it. Between them they always spoke in that language, and he began to do so with Sajjad as well.

A little before the fire happened, Diego had felt a great satisfaction when he had finally paid for Sabba. Not only did he mean to repay a debt to his master, it was also for her, in gratitude for her eternal loyalty.

Throughout this time, he had gotten to know Galib quite well. At the beginning, he was overawed by his knowledge, but now he admired him more for his professional honesty and his humanity. He had never seen him downplay adversity, and when there was something he didn't know, he didn't hide that either. One thing that characterized him was the constant thirst to know everything, to know more every day. Constancy in work, an almost sacred respect for his clients, his invariable capacity for wonder, and an inexhaustible curiosity were only a few of the many virtues that Diego wanted for himself.

Galib pushed him and encouraged him to use his abilities, his exceptional ability to analyze and predict animal behaviors, because, he said, all that would help when he was making his diagnoses. Diego was tremendously intuitive and also possessed great manual dexterity. Galib reproached him for his impatience in making a diagnosis too quickly, without considering all the information, and told him that if he could overcome that defect, he could become an albéitar before the six years other apprentices needed were up.

Diego, the albéitar. Could it one day be a reality?

In the days that followed the disaster, Diego saw a transformation in Galib. A strange bitterness appeared in his character, though he wanted to give the impression of everything being normal. Diego thought his apparent good humor might be a smokescreen behind which lurked the rest of his problems.

Like Kabirma, Diego thought the best solution to all their ills was to take the trip to Las Marismas. On their return, they could resolve all their debts and start a new life.

Every time Diego brought it up, though, Galib would look away and think of simpler solutions that might free them from that situation.