Chapter 36 · Chapter 36

The clerk’s voice rose above the assembly, reading the decree from a curled parchment stamped with heavy crimson wax. Every syllable fell like a stone upon the cobblestones of the plaza: names severed from their trades, households stripped of their ledgers, and the penalty ordained for any who harbored the script of our fathers beneath their tiles.

At my side, Saad stood motionless, yet beneath the wool of his cloak I felt the subtle, coiled tightening of his sinews. He watched not the magistrate upon the raised dais, but the line of royal guards whose iron halberds formed an unyielding wall between the prisoners and the crowd.

“Saleema bint Ja’far,” the official pronounced, his hand motioning toward the irons waiting beside the wooden barrier. “Step forward to answer for the cures kept beyond the scrutiny of the church.”

Two guards stepped out from the row, their greaves ringing against the paving as they reached to separate me from the folk of the Albaicín. I drew in a quiet breath, lifting my chin to meet the cold glare of the court, refusing to give them the tremor they sought.