Cathedral of the Sea by Ildefonso Falcones Read Free Book Online

and fell fast asleep. All Bernat ate was a chunk of salted meat. He would have liked to rest, but he knew there was still a long way to go.
    The Estanyol cave, his father had called it. Night had fallen by the time they reached it, after stopping once more for Arnau to have some food. The cave entrance was a narrow slit in the rocks, which Bernat, his father, and his grandfather used to close up with branches to protect them from storms or animals on the prowl.
    Bernat lit a fire just inside the cave, then took a torch to make sure no wild animal had chosen it for a lair. He settled Arnau on a pallet he made from his sack and some dry twigs, and fed him again. This time, the infant took the food gladly, and then fell into a deep sleep. Before he could eat more than a mouthful of meat, Bernat did the same. They would be safe from Llorenç de Bellera here, he thought as he closed his eyes and matched his breathing to that of his sleeping son.

    No SOONER HAD the master blacksmith told him of the discovery of his apprentice’s dead body in a pool of blood, than Llorenç de Bellera galloped out of the castle with his men. Arnau’s disappearance and the fact that his father had been seen in the castle pointed directly toward Bernat. Now de Bellera sat astride his horse in the Estanyol farmhouse yard, and smiled when his soldiers informed him that to judge by the disorder inside, it seemed Bernat had fled and taken his son with him.
    “You were fortunate when your father died,” he growled, “but now all this will be mine! Go and find him!” he shouted to his men. Then he turned to his steward and commanded: “Draw up a list of all the goods, chattels, and animals on this property. Make sure it’s all there, down to the last grain of corn. Then join the search for Estanyol.”
    Several days later, the steward appeared before his lord in the castle keep.
    “We’ve searched all the other farmhouses, the woods, and the fields. There is no sign of Estanyol. He must have gone to hide in a town, perhaps in Manresa or—”
    With a wave of his hand, Llorenç de Bellera silenced him.
    “We will find him. Inform the other barons and our agents in the towns. Tell them one of my serfs has escaped and is to be arrested.” At that moment, Doña Caterina and Francesca appeared. De Bellera’s son Jaume was in Francesca’s arms. When de Bellera saw her, his face fell: she was of no use to him anymore. “My lady,” he said to his wife, “I cannot understand how you permit a strumpet like this to give suck to a son of mine.” Doña Caterina gave a start. “Did you not know that your wet nurse is the whore of all the soldiers in the castle?”
    Doña Caterina seized her son from Francesca.
    When Francesca learned that Bernat had fled with Arnau, she wondered what could have become of her son. The Estanyol family lands and properties had all passed into the hands of the lord of Navarcles. She had no one to turn to for help, and all the while the soldiers continued to take advantage of her. A crust of dry bread, a rotten vegetable or two—that was the price of her body.
    None of the many peasant farmers who visited the castle even deigned to glance at her. If she tried to draw near them, they chased her away. After her mother had publicly disowned her outside the castle bakery, she did not dare return to her family home. She was forced to remain close to the castle, one of the army of beggars fighting over the scraps left by the walls. It seemed her fate was to be passed from one man to the next, and her only nourishment was whatever leftovers the soldier who had chosen her that day cared to give her.
    The month of October arrived. Bernat had already seen his son smile, and crawl around the cave and the ground outside. But their provisions had almost run out, and winter was approaching fast. It was time for them to leave.

4
    T HE CITY LAY spread at his feet. “Look, Arnau,” Bernat said to his son, who was sleeping peacefully