“Tap on the wall with a rock! Show me where it is!”
The tapping was frenzied. It was high, all right, too high even for me. Evidently, some step or platform had fallen or sunk into the earth. I could barely touch it standing on tiptoe.
Unable to see in the darkness, I had to judge its position; then I leaped upward in the darkness, grasping for something I could not see … and grasped it with both hands!
My weight came down on it, and slowly, a section of the wall moved. Cool air rushed in …
It was not open wide enough for me to escape, yet my hand reached through and grasped Aziza’s, and for a time we simply clung to each other. Then sanity returned. “It’s the bottom of the door,” I suggested, “if you could dig the earth away?”
Dropping to her knees, she dug desperately, gasping for breath. Once again I heaved at the door, and this time it moved enough for me to emerge.
She caught at me, and for a moment we clung together as if drowning. After a long time I drew away and pushed the door shut with my shoulder.
The opening was a mere crack in the rock cleverly utilized and masked by brush and roots. The lever itself had folded back into the crack, and even now I had to look carefully to detect it. With gentle fingers I rearranged the vines, moss, and leaves we had disturbed.
“However did you find this place?” We were in the copse, the very place I had studied as a possibility.
“I’d seen you looking at this place, and I have lived in several castles, not only the one in Palermo. Such places as this were used. What you could not see from where we were is that a part of the copse is right below the wall; you were looking at a place further away. The trees disappear for part of its length, then there’s another patch of them.
“You were gone so long I was frightened. I started down the steps after you. I called and called, but there was no response, so I went back before I had gone far. I was afraid you would come looking and find me gone. Then on the second morning—”
“The what?”
“Oh, Mathurin! Didn’t you know? You have been down there two days and a night!”
Down there in the darkness, how could one know? How long had I sat on the step in the darkness? Had I slept? How long had I been on the steps, feeling my way down, sometimes with long pauses while my feet or hands explored for resting places? My hunger now told me what she said was true, a thing forgotten in my horror at dying there in the darkness as had those others whose bones crunched beneath my feet.
The Castle of Othman remained as we had left it. The Barb greeted me with a whinny, extending his nose toward me. I rubbed his neck for a minute or so, talking gently to him. Then I went to the fountain, and stripping off my shirt, I bathed away the sweat and dust. Wrapped in my robes once more, I rested while Aziza brought me food, then I slept.
A long time later I awakened. It was not yet morning, although the sky seemed lighter. I lay still, staring upward and thinking about our situation. Our food was almost gone, and we could remain here no longer.
The only solution seemed a return to Córdoba or to travel on to some other town such as Seville or perhaps Toledo. By now the men of ibn-Haram would have searched the city and its environs. A return might be in order.
If careful, we might even return the way we had come, thus escaping the guards at the gates of the city. We might even continue to hide at the home of ibn-Tuwais. Getting to my feet, I went to the window and looked toward Córdoba. It was not yet light, but I could see for a good distance across country. Nothing moved.
Descending the stair, I went to the garden. What few grapes there had been we had eaten. The apricots, only few in number, were also gone.
We had no choice. We must ride away from the Castle of Othman.
15
When Aziza awakened I waited until she had left the fountain and returned inside. “We have food for no more than a day,” I told her. “We will have to go.”
“To Córdoba? We cannot.”
“We will be safer there. If we start for somewhere else, we may fall in with brigands or soldiers.”
“Yusuf is trying to make the roads safe.”
“No doubt … in time. They are not safe yet.”
She was silent for a moment, and I said, “It is safer for you. It is the last thing they will expect. I have some money.”
Before noon I led the horses to the copse and picketed them where they were concealed by the trees around a small meadow. We must escape. If necessary, we could use the tower, and with candles and much care we could manage now that I had taken that route. With care we could last out another day and each day was a small victory for us.
Where else could we go? Her friends could not be trusted, for some were certainly now allied to Yusuf or ibn-Haram. Others were afraid of him. After the storm that must have been raised, any young man traveling with a beautiful girl would draw attention. In Córdoba I could lose myself among the students and find something to do. It was not in me to long remain idle. Even now I was chafing to be learning.
It was almost dusk when we saw the riders. There were at least a dozen, and they rode in a compact group heading for the Castle of Othman.
“Quick! We will hide in the passage!” Swiftly, we gathered all we had brought and removed what signs there were of our presence. Much had already been done, as we planned to leave. As we closed the door behind us, we could hear the sound of hooves in the courtyard.
Crouching on the small landing in the darkness, we waited. We had left nothing, of that we were sure, yet there would be trampled grass and evidence that someone had been there. We hoped they would believe it had been brigands.
A subdued rustling sounded beyond the stone door, large sounds no doubt, but faintly heard from here. Moving back, I brushed against something I had not seen before. Another set of steps led upward. The stairwell was very small, but moving quietly we climbed upward to reach a small room not more than four feet wide but twelve long. There was a stone bench, a rusty halberd.
Then I saw a narrow crack where the stones should have fitted but which had been purposely left to allow a viewer to watch what transpired in the great hall, and due to the collapse of walls, it also offered a view of a part of the outer court. Snuffing our candle, we peered through.
A half-dozen men were in view, soldiers all. Outside in the court we could see others, searching all about. As I watched, the officer in command turned and I saw his face clearly. It was Duban.
My mouth had opened to call out when Aziza clapped a hand over it, shaking her head violently.
“But it is Duban! He will help us!”
“They would kill you. You have been too long alone with me.”
“But—”
“No matter. They would kill you, anyway.”
“Of course,” I agreed, “I am a fool.”
“Whatever you are, I love you.”
Startled, I looked at her, and she returned my gaze with wide eyes. “I mean it,” she said. “Not that it will matter. They will marry me to whom they wish if it will aid their cause.”
When they had ridden away we descended the stair and went to the top of the keep. From there we could watch over the entire countryside, and the riders were far away now, riding swiftly toward a high road where dim movement could be seen.
We could no longer remain here. They had found nothing, but they might return. It was obvious someone had been moving about in the courtyard and the garden.
“You were right,” I admitted, “I should have known what they would think.”
“I am important to them,” she said. “They want me because I am useful for bargaining. They hope to seal an alliance with me.” She shrugged. “Women such as I know this is what is expected, and sometimes the match is a happy one.”
“And if it is not?”
“We manage, somehow. We have known what was expected of us, and some become very clever at politics and intrigue. Some simply find a lover; some sink into whatever life they have with their children, and often they are enough.”