I glimpsed her beautiful profile and the length of her lashes. She was divinely beautiful, but are there not many divinely beautiful women when one is young and the sap of life flows swiftly in the veins? Yet this one ... she was superb!
"It is good to see you, Valaba," Averroes said.
Valaba? Like her namesake of one hundred years earlier, Valaba had made her home a rendezvous for the brilliant, for the poets, philosophers, and students of science. It was a period of enormous achievement, one of the great eras in the history of science. Not since the Athens of Pericles had there been such intellectual excitement, and the home of Valaba, as well as those of several other such women, had become a focal point for the exchange of ideas.
"When I was in Sicily," she was saying, "Prince William told me of Viking ships that had sailed to an island in the northern seas, and this must be Ultima Thule."
"Ah, yes," Averroes acknowledged, "a Greek named Phytheas is said to have sailed there." She was very beautiful, and he who would be her lover must not be laggard.
Glancing across my cup, I said, "If you will permit? I have visited the place."
Her dark eyes were cool. No doubt many young men had aspired to know her, and to know her better. Well, let them have aspirations. Where they aspired, I would achieve.
Averroes looked up with interest. "Ah? You are a man of the sea?"
"Briefly, and perhaps again. The land of which you speak is not the furthest land. There are lands beyond, and still others beyond those."
"You have been to Thule?"
"Long ago, from the shores of Armorica. Our boats fish in seas beyond the ice land where the seas are thick with fog, and sometimes with floating ice, but teem with fish. When the fog is gone and the skies are clear, one can often see, further to the westward, another land."
"And you were there, too?" In the tone of Valaba was a touch of sarcasm.
"I was there also. It is a land of rocky shores, great forests, and a shore that stretches away to both south and north."
"The Vikings spoke of a green land," Averroes said doubtfully.
"This is another, but of which my people have long known. The Norsemen went there from Greenland and Iceland to get timbers to build their ships, or for masts. Sometimes they landed to dry their fish or to hunt."
"This land has been explored?"
"Who would wish to? It is a land of dense forests and savage men who have nothing to trade but furs or skins. The men who sail there look only for fish."
"You are not an Arab?"
"I am Mathurin Kerbouchard, a traveler and a student."
Averroes smiled. "Are not we all? Travelers and students?" He sipped his tea. "What do you do in Cordoba?"
"I have come to learn, and having found no school, I learn from books."
"You are a poet?" Valaba asked.
"I have not the gift."
Averroes chuckled. "Need that stop you? How many have the gift? There may be a million people in Cordoba, and all of them write poetry, yet not more than three dozen have even a modest gift."
They returned to their conversation, and I, to my reading, for I was beginning the greatCanon of Avicenna, which was in many volumes and more than a million words on the practice of medicine.
When they left my eyes followed them, watching the slim and graceful Valaba. Had she guessed what was in my mind, she would have laughed at me. Which disturbed me none at all.
Who was I, a barbarian from the northern lands, to even know such a woman? I, a landless man, a wanderer, a casual student?
She was cool, aloof, beautiful, and wealthy. She was a young lady with the brains and judgment of men. Yet my time would come.
Ambition was strong within me. I wanted to see, to become, but, most of all, to understand. Much that here was taken for granted was new to me, and I found it best to tread lightly in all conversation unless I wished to make a fool of myself. Yet I was learning, and the ways of the city were becoming my ways.
The wider my knowledge became the more I realized my
"It is good to see you, Valaba," Averroes said.
Valaba? Like her namesake of one hundred years earlier, Valaba had made her home a rendezvous for the brilliant, for the poets, philosophers, and students of science. It was a period of enormous achievement, one of the great eras in the history of science. Not since the Athens of Pericles had there been such intellectual excitement, and the home of Valaba, as well as those of several other such women, had become a focal point for the exchange of ideas.
"When I was in Sicily," she was saying, "Prince William told me of Viking ships that had sailed to an island in the northern seas, and this must be Ultima Thule."
"Ah, yes," Averroes acknowledged, "a Greek named Phytheas is said to have sailed there." She was very beautiful, and he who would be her lover must not be laggard.
Glancing across my cup, I said, "If you will permit? I have visited the place."
Her dark eyes were cool. No doubt many young men had aspired to know her, and to know her better. Well, let them have aspirations. Where they aspired, I would achieve.
Averroes looked up with interest. "Ah? You are a man of the sea?"
"Briefly, and perhaps again. The land of which you speak is not the furthest land. There are lands beyond, and still others beyond those."
"You have been to Thule?"
"Long ago, from the shores of Armorica. Our boats fish in seas beyond the ice land where the seas are thick with fog, and sometimes with floating ice, but teem with fish. When the fog is gone and the skies are clear, one can often see, further to the westward, another land."
"And you were there, too?" In the tone of Valaba was a touch of sarcasm.
"I was there also. It is a land of rocky shores, great forests, and a shore that stretches away to both south and north."
"The Vikings spoke of a green land," Averroes said doubtfully.
"This is another, but of which my people have long known. The Norsemen went there from Greenland and Iceland to get timbers to build their ships, or for masts. Sometimes they landed to dry their fish or to hunt."
"This land has been explored?"
"Who would wish to? It is a land of dense forests and savage men who have nothing to trade but furs or skins. The men who sail there look only for fish."
"You are not an Arab?"
"I am Mathurin Kerbouchard, a traveler and a student."
Averroes smiled. "Are not we all? Travelers and students?" He sipped his tea. "What do you do in Cordoba?"
"I have come to learn, and having found no school, I learn from books."
"You are a poet?" Valaba asked.
"I have not the gift."
Averroes chuckled. "Need that stop you? How many have the gift? There may be a million people in Cordoba, and all of them write poetry, yet not more than three dozen have even a modest gift."
They returned to their conversation, and I, to my reading, for I was beginning the greatCanon of Avicenna, which was in many volumes and more than a million words on the practice of medicine.
When they left my eyes followed them, watching the slim and graceful Valaba. Had she guessed what was in my mind, she would have laughed at me. Which disturbed me none at all.
Who was I, a barbarian from the northern lands, to even know such a woman? I, a landless man, a wanderer, a casual student?
She was cool, aloof, beautiful, and wealthy. She was a young lady with the brains and judgment of men. Yet my time would come.
Ambition was strong within me. I wanted to see, to become, but, most of all, to understand. Much that here was taken for granted was new to me, and I found it best to tread lightly in all conversation unless I wished to make a fool of myself. Yet I was learning, and the ways of the city were becoming my ways.
The wider my knowledge became the more I realized my
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