Anger

“I could convert,” I said, a few steps away from boarding Al-Surad.

The Reis crossed his arms. It did not take proficiency in three languages to translate that he was unhappy.

Qudamah was thrilled.

“My lady,” he said, definitely not taking the hint from my glare, “we welcome you. The guardianship to enact the conversion, however…”

“You let Adina go with you to Almeria,” I countered.

Adina was chatting with Aya when she noticed me. Adina smiled politely, and I saw Aya follow her gaze with contempt. A third wife not wanting a prospective fourth.

“The Jews in Oran rejected her.” Kashif tilted his head. “The Genoese had put a bounty on every Jew out of Aragon. She has no choice but to seek safety in our land.”

I inhaled sharply. “You know she was not a slave all along.”

Those green eyes only regarded me coldly. Adina was never the issue. He did not take my decision to convert well, but he could not voice it. I wish Qudamah were the Reis. An obedient muslim man fantasizing about marrying a convert would get me far.

“I am an insurance underwriter,” I admitted. “Ransom-broking is just a side business. I wanted to investigate my trade lines.”

I held Kashif’s gaze. He betrayed no surprise, but I saw something in those eyes that I hoped was respect.

“My people killed the Jews or converted them. They were our best customers, but now that her people converted, my business collapsed with them.” I had snorted at Adina. She approached. Perhaps snorting was a donkey language. “I hoped to rebuild the lines in the Maghreb… after I know who sent you, Reis.”

Have I ever said that I hate the truth?

“You want my king,” Reis mused. “Why?”

“So I know who to threaten when you raid under a truce. I can charge extraordinary premiums to the victims.” I rolled my eyes. “You never raid.”

The Reis chuckled. He looked at Qudamah. For a tense second, I thought he’d officiate my marriage.

“She was the last piece,” Kashif told Qudamah. Then he turned once more to me. “I appreciate the honesty, but that does not warrant you a trip to Almeria.”

I swallowed my pride. “I ask to provide for Adina the Jewess until her child is born.”

Kashif and Adina widened their eyes. I was surprised, too. But a map to every trade line in a century was so close. Feeding two donkeys was a risk I was willing to take.

“Even one Jew is enough for your Church to move against you,” Adina commented. “How do you know I am pregnant?”

“Aside from the vomiting? Two moons without changing clothes.” I looked below to emphasize. “And I meant providing your livelihood in Nasrid. The Reis’ King Muhammad VII would be delighted by my prospect; he’ll have fewer mouths to feed.”

Kashif squinted. “How will you transport the money from Aragon?”

“Technical issue,” I laughed, really laughed. “Almeria has Genoese houses. With my bill of exchange, Adina can retrieve the funds anytime.”

“No.” Anger flashed on Kashif’s face. “I can smell usury. No bills.”

My heart hammered. Of course I had to forget about his scrupulosity. I looked at Adina desperately—and found a breakthrough.

“I will pay their trade route,” I said carefully. If this did not work, I’d resort to kidnapping Adina next. “Almeria trades silk with Oran Jews. I will invest in the silk trade between your people. I inspect their ledgers. Any profit goes to Adina.”

Honestly, I was reaching for nothing. I couldn’t remember the exact stipulation on Kashif’s tradition. I stared at Adina, thinking how to gag her mouth in the night…

“The suftaja, Reis!” Adina exclaimed. “It’s the same exchange, though, but using investment goods...”

Kashif looked away from Adina’s plea. “The Genoese put a bounty on her,” he said. “You endanger her.”

“That is your land.” I breathed slowly. “If she gets killed, complain to your king.”

The word ‘king’ seemed to grate on Kashif more than ‘killed’; he frowned.

“I need to consult our jurist about your scheme…”

“Charity,” I corrected. So Kashif could not know something, too. “What do I do now?”

It was entirely satisfying to see the Reis sigh.

“One more guest to Almeria, then.”

***

“My sympathy was real, Adina.”

We returned to our quarter. Adina gave me a suspicious look. I felt hurt, as though I had a motive. She’d get the money, I promise.

I would gain everything else.

“You were his wife, yes?” I prompted to break her silence. “The master cartographer who had drawn the ledger map.”

Reflexively, Adina gripped her cap. I smiled triumphantly once more.

“You’ll sell me to the Genoese,” she accused.

“You forgot they almost chastised me.” I shook my head to dismiss the memory. “You could not ask for a better offer.”

Adina was not convinced. “What do you gain?”

“Your cleanliness.” I dug a clean cap from my luggage. “Since you are not a marked Oran Jew, I thought to give you a better cap. Almeria treated the Jews differently. Let me uncap the old one before the men come.”

“Hold back.” Adina swatted my arm. “This is a keepsake from my late husband.”

“I surmised as much—erm, I mean… I will return it after I clean it. You can still get the new cap!”

Adina was reluctant, but she finally removed the cap. Keepsake or not, she hadn’t cleaned properly for weeks. I held my breath as I received the old cap.

“Be gentle with it,” Adina pleaded.

“Of course I will.”

I suppressed a laugh before sneaking to the deck behind. Beneath the mizzenmast’s shadow, I pried open the seam of the cap. The thread easily snapped. I pretended to wear the cap as I inspected the vellum between the fabrics.

A map was drawn inside.

***

That was the story of how I acquired a world-changing map. I felt pity, then, because were it not for you, I would have shared it with the Reis. With his prowess and my knowledge, we’d be unstoppable. A king would not be important; we hold the funds.

Alas, I dedicate this map to you, a Spinola. I carry one half, the land part, which you need for your land insurance. Hold up your side of the bargain to buy back my name from the King, or I will divulge your crimes: flying Castilian arms and killing a Mercedarian. Use Kashif’s retaliation as an excuse to prompt Castile to attack the Nasrid; it would raise your premium.

I’d advise you to court Muhammad VII, too. Tempt him to collect his spoils and, ultimately, capture Kashif as we reach Almeria. That should secure the sea route, and that’d be the time for me to collect the second half of the map, which contains the sea ledgers.

Here is a jest for you. In my language, Al-Surad, a shrike is called darnagas—a fool. As foolish as he may be, I’d advise keeping Kashif alive to extract more from him.

It was a long journey, but I hope you find reading this worthwhile.

Signed,

Lady Sandrina of House Tisseyre