“Sahat is yours,” Hasdai unexpectedly announced, handing over the documents that sealed the matter.

“What do I need a slave for? I won’t even be able to feed myself until our ships put to sea again, so how could I feed a slave? The guild does not allow slaves to work. No, I don’t need Sahat.”

“But you will need him,” Hasdai replied with a smile. “He belongs to you. Ever since Raquel and Jucef were born, Sahat had looked after them as though they were his own children, and I can assure you he loves them as if they were. Neither he nor I can ever repay you for what you did for them. We think that the best way to settle our debt is by making life easier for you. To do that, you will need Sahat’s help, and he is ready to give it.”

“Make life easier for me?”

“We both hope to help make you rich.”

Arnau smiled back at the man who was still his host.

“I’m nothing more than a bastaix. Wealth is for nobles and merchants.”

“You can have wealth too. I’ll provide the means for you to do so. If you act wisely and follow Sahat’s advice, I have no doubt you will become rich.” Arnau looked at him to learn more. “As you know,” said Hasdai, “the plague is slackening. There are fewer and fewer cases, but it has had terrible consequences. No one knows exactly how many people have died in Barcelona, but we do know that four of the five city councillors have perished. That could have disastrous consequences. As regards our affairs, a good number of these who died were money changers who worked in the city. I know, because I used to deal with them and they are no longer there. I think that if you were interested, you could become a money changer ...”

“I know nothing about business or changing money,” Arnau protested. “Besides, every professional in a trade has to pass an examination. I know nothing about any of that kind of thing.”

“Money changers don’t have to pass any test,” Hasdai replied. “I know the king has been asked to establish some rules, but he has not yet done so. Anyone can be a money changer, as long as your countinghouse has got sufficient backing. Sahat has got enough knowledge for both of you. He knows all there is to know about the business. He has been part of my own dealings for many years now. I bought him in the first place because he was already an expert. If you allow him to, he can teach you and you will soon prosper. He may be a slave, but he is someone you can trust; besides which, he feels an extra loyalty toward you because of what you did for my children. They’re the only persons he has ever loved. They are his entire family.” Hasdai looked inquiringly at Arnau through narrowed eyes. “Well?”

“I’m not sure ... ,” Arnau said doubtfully.

“You’ll be backed not only by me, but by all the other Jews who are aware of what you did. We are a grateful people, Arnau. Sahat knows all my agents throughout the Mediterranean, Europe, and in the Orient—even in the distant lands of the sultan of Egypt. You will start with a lot of support for your business, and you can count on all of us to help you. It’s a good offer, Arnau. You won’t have any problems.”

Unsure if he was doing the right thing, Arnau accepted. This was enough to set all the machinery Hasdai had already prepared into motion. First rule: nobody, absolutely nobody was to know that Arnau was being helped by the Jews of Barcelona; that could only be used against him. Hasdai gave him a document that purported to show that all his funds came from a Christian widow living in Perpignan; this was the formal cover he needed.

“Should anyone ask,” Hasdai told him, “don’t say anything, but if they insist, tell them you have inherited it. You will need a lot of money to begin with,” he went on. “First of all you will need to underwrite your countinghouse with the Barcelona magistrates. That is a thousand silver marks. Then you will have to buy a house or the lease on a house in the money changers’ district, that is, either in Calle Canvis Veils or Canvis Nous, and equip it as befits your station. Finally, you will need more money to be able to start trading.”

Money changing? Why not? What was left of his old life? All the people he loved had died from the plague. Hasdai seemed convinced that with Sahat’s aid he could succeed. He had not the slightest idea of what a money changer’s life might be like: Hasdai assured him he would be rich, but what was it like to be rich? All of a sudden he remembered Grau, the only rich man he had ever known. He felt his stomach wrench. No, he would never be like Grau.

He underwrote his countinghouse with the thousand silver marks Hasdai gave him. He swore to the magistrates he would denounce any counterfeit money he came across—wondering to himself how on earth he would recognize it if by chance Sahat were not with him—and would slice it in two with the special shears all money changers kept for that purpose. The magistrate signed the enormous ledgers where he was to write down all his transactions, and, at a time when Barcelona was still in chaos following the effects of the bubonic plague, he was given official approval to operate as a money changer. The days and times when he was to keep his business open were also established.

The second rule that Hasdai proposed concerned Sahat:

“No one should ever suspect he is my gift. Sahat is well-known among the money changers, and if anyone finds out, you could have problems. As a Christian you are allowed to do business with Jews, but you should avoid anyone thinking you are a friend of Jews. There’s another problem regarding Sahat: very few in the profession would understand why I have sold him to you. I have had hundreds of offers for him, each one more generous than the last, but I’ve always turned them down, both because of his abilities and his love for my children. Nobody would understand why he is with you. We thought in fact that Sahat could convert to Christianity.”

“Why would he do that?”

“We Jews are forbidden to have Christian slaves. If any of our slaves convert, we have either to free them, or sell them to another Christian.”

“Will the other money changers believe it?”

“An outbreak of the plague is enough to undermine any religious belief.”

“Is Sahat willing to do it?”

“He is.”

They had spoken about the matter not as master and slave, but as the two close friends they had become over the years.

“Would you be capable of it?” Hasdai had asked him.

“Yes,” answered Sahat. “Allah, all praise and glory to him, will understand. You know the practice of our faith is forbidden in Christian lands. We fulfill our obligations in secret, in the privacy of our own hearts. That is how it will continue to be, however much holy water they sprinkle over me.”

“Arnau is a devout Christian,” Hasdai went on. “If he ever got to find out...”

“He never will. We slaves more than anyone know the art of dissembling. No, not while I’ve been with you, but I have been a slave all my life. Our lives often depend on it.”

The third rule remained a secret between Hasdai and Sahat. “Sahat, I have no need to tell you,” his former master said, with a trembling voice, “how grateful I am to you for this decision of yours. My children and I will be eternally grateful to you.”

“It is I who should thank you.”

“I suppose you know where you should concentrate your efforts.”

“I believe so.”

“Stay away from spices, from fabrics, oils, or wax,” Hasdai warned him, while Sahat nodded, having already expected this kind of advice. “Until the situation has settled, Catalonia will be unable to import these kinds of things. Slaves, Sahat, slaves. After the plague, Catalonia needs people to work. Until now, it’s not something we have done much of. You will find them in Byzantium, Palestine, Rhodes, and Cyprus. And in the markets of Sicily as well, of course. There are lots of Turks and Tartars on sale there. But I think it’s better if you buy them in their own countries. We have agents in each of them who can help you. Your new master should amass a considerable fortune in no time at all.”

“What if he refuses to deal in slaves? He doesn’t look the kind of person—”

“He is a good person.” Hasdai interrupted him to confirm his suspicions. “He’s scrupulous, of humble origin, and he’s very generous. He might well refuse to have anything to do with the slave trade. Therefore, don’t bring them to Barcelona. Don’t let Arnau see them. Take them directly to Perpignan, Tarragona, or Salou, or simply sell them in Mallorca. That’s where there is one of the biggest slave markets in all the Mediterranean. Let others bring them to Barcelona or wherever else they want to take them. Castille also needs a lot of slaves. Anyway, by the time Arnau has worked out how these things function, he will have made a lot of money. If I were you—and I’ll tell him the same myself—I would tell him to become familiar with all the different currencies, how money is changed, the various markets, the routes, and the main sorts of goods that are exported or imported. While he is doing that, you can be getting on with your own affairs. Just remember that we are no more intelligent than anyone else, and that anybody who has money will be importing slaves. There’s a chance to make a lot of money, but it won’t last. Make the most of it while you can.”

“Will you help?”

“In any way I can. I’ll give you letters for all my agents—you know them already. They will supply you with whatever credit you may require.”

“What about the account books? The slaves will have to appear there, and Arnau could find out.”

Hasdai smiled knowingly at his former slave.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to sort out a small detail like that.”