Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [180]
Diniz had seen such a necklet before. Umar-Lopez was wearing one at the throat of his robe. He looked again at the girl, to make sure.
He realised that the same Umar-Lopez was continuing gravely to speak. ‘You see the Tuareg before you, who cover their faces. Berbers. Bozo fishermen from the Joliba. From beyond the river, the men and women with marked faces, and those with gold through the lip. The men of the jurisprudence, the scholars, are those wearing white.’ He had kept his voice solemn.
The men of the jurisprudence, not incurious about the small group of riders, would sometimes smile at Umar, and bow. Three or four times, a man turned with a startled expression and then, hastening over, greeted him with a torrent of Arabic, to which Umar would reply smiling, but briefly. ‘They are not all surprised to see you,’ Godscalc observed.
‘I have been here some days,’ said Umar-Lopez. They knew that by now. Once free of Doria, he had sped on his way at three times their own laborious pace, borrowing horses; making his sure way from village to village; being transported by the fleetest of boats.
Diniz thought of Nicholas, carrying Bel in his arms. He said, ‘How long have you been away from your home?’
‘For ten years,’ said Lopez. Said Umar.
‘And you have not tried to come back until now?’
‘A slave cannot travel,’ said Umar. ‘Nicholas and Marian de Charetty set me free, and I have tried to repay them. This is a merchant quarter, as you see. The house where you stay is in another such. The dealer who lives in your house is away, and his family have moved to another they have. They have left you some of their servants.’
‘Slaves,’ Gelis said. The houses were of mud-brick, rough-cast over, or of limestone, covered with clay. The clay must have been imported, and the limestone. There were quarries, she had heard, in the desert. The walls sloped, and bore peculiar ornaments: chimney-like buttresses and attachments like pyramids. In the distance she could see a great, blurred building large enough to kennel a sphinx. It was stuck with thorns like a porcupine. There was a minaret by it.
‘Slaves? Yes,’ said Umar-Lopez.
‘And eunuchs,’ Gelis said. ‘That is a mosque.’
‘We have passed several,’ said Umar-Lopez. ‘But that is the oldest. It is a university also, and around it are the houses of the savants and teachers. I should have taught there, had I not been captured. There are many schools. You will wish to see them one day.’ He was speaking to Godscalc.
Godscalc said, ‘Your name is Umar ibn Muhammad al-Kaburi. You were reared as a Muslim?’
‘Forgive me,’ said Loppe. Below the white cap, his eyes were as clear as a black and white drawing.
‘You were never the Christian you pretended to be?’
‘I was baptised,’ said Umar-Lopez.
‘You broke faith with your teachers, and are now forsworn, or so I suppose it, a second time. Those are not the acts of a scholar,’ said Godscalc.
‘I do not excuse myself,’ said Umar-Lopez. ‘Save to say that I did not seek my own benefit. There is the house of the imam of this region, who is also a judge. It is the profession of my father and grandfather: I know what justice consists of. We have reached the northern boundary, as you see. Beyond is the abaradiou, the pools and the pastures where the camel trains rest at the end of their journey. The main azalai, the salt caravan, arrives here in May, but there are others between.’
‘I see soldiers,’ said Godscalc.
‘There is a post here,’ said Umar. ‘The main garrison buildings are by the palace. Timbuktu has few defences, but the commander, when he is here, keeps good order. We should start on our way back.’
‘By the palace?’ said Gelis. ‘Is that Egyptian as well?’
Umar smiled at her. He said, ‘No. It is Andalusian. You have