The Horse Healer by Gonzalo Giner Page B

that way, we can defeat Alfonso of Castile. My plan is to enter from the west, crossing the river Tagus and taking back Toledo. That way the poem will be finished and we will win the game.”
    â€œExcellent thinking, sir. … I admire you.”
    The caliph proudly breathed in the dry desert air mixed with the fragrance that transpired from an enormous jasmine. He believed in the success of his plan because the Christians always fell victim to the same mistakes: greed for widening their territories and an obsessive need to feel different from one another.
    Very frightened, the two sisters entered into a round hall where a group of women were seated on the floor listening to another older woman. They were dressed in diaphanous garments, perfumed silks, and seemed lulled to sleep by the music of the words coming from her mouth.
    A young woman with black skin came over to them and showed them where to sit. The two sisters looked at each other without knowing what lay in store. They observed the girl who was preparing a mixture of rice powder and egg white in a container and then came over to spread it on their faces. With a salve of incense and carbon she darkened their eyebrows and eyelashes, and then she painted their eyelids with a red cream.
    The other women murmured, pointing at them and laughing. One of them, a redheaded one, with blue eyes and fine features, stood up and came over to them. She appeared to be a Christian.
    â€œMy name is Yasmin. You are now in the harem of Great Caliph Yusuf and I am his favorite wife. Behave well and you can live here tranquilly and according to your wishes.”
    To their surprise, the woman spoke Romanic, which relieved them to a degree. Blanca was going to speak, but the woman gestured for her to be silent. Without another explanation she pulled back Blanca’s veil, looked at her mouth, and smelled her breath. She did the same with Estela. Afterward, she gave an order in Arabic to two girls who ran off.
    â€œWe were kidnapped,” Estela whispered into her ear.
    In her innocence she thought the woman would help them once she found out about their misfortune. But not only did she fail to demonstrate any kind of sensitivity, in fact she laughed back at her cruelly.
    â€œI haven’t heard anything so funny in a long time.” She dried the tears from her eyes. “You are talking to the caliph’s first wife and the mother of the heir to the throne. I was born a Christian in your lands, but then I was married to Yusuf and I owe myself to him and to Allah. I am in charge of this harem, where I live with the rest of the women. Two hundred concubines also live here, and other women who distract him with their dances, their songs, and their poetry.”
    The two girls who had left the chamber returned with something in their hands.
    â€œNow we will whiten your teeth with ground eggshell. Then you will wait until you are ordered to enter.”
    â€œEnter where?” Blanca asked.
    The woman delivered her a resounding slap.
    â€œDon’t talk to me again without my permission. Do you understand?”
    Both girls responded by nodding their heads.
    â€œI am made by Allah for the glory of my master, and I walk proud down my own path. I give power to my lover over my body and my kisses I offer to those who desire them,” she recited without taking a breath. “These rhymes were written by a wise poetess from Córdoba, and you will live them out tonight. Offer them your kisses if they are desired.”
    Marrakesh had become the capital of the Almohad Empire and boasted its finest buildings and its artists, thinkers, and sages.
    From a broad terrace of the palace, with the sun on the point of disappearing, the city began to live the night. The new mosque shone, proud, a lofty tower a copy of which had been built in Seville. When the sun had fallen, you could begin to see the first torches being lit.
    â€œShall we serve you your tea, Your