Sibylla squinted provocatively at André. “Are you out to ruin my reputation or are you back in Mogador so soon because you have missed me?”
André loved the fact that she was flirting with him, yet he had no choice but to ruin her carefree mood. “I would like nothing better than to ruin your reputation in every conceivable way, but unfortunately, the reason for my visit is somewhat grave. War is brewing on the border with Algeria. I have been asked by the French government to travel to Marrakesh with important news for the sultan.”
“What kind of news? And why Marrakesh? I thought the sultan was going to be in Fez.”
“He has canceled his stay there. The news concerns Abd el-Kader and one of his own insurgent subjects.”
“Abd el-Kader? He’s the Berber leader who called for the jihad in Algeria against the French, is he not?”
“Yes. And he is serious about this. He has joined forces with a Moroccan tribal leader to overthrow the sultan.”
“Oh no! But what can that have to do with me?” Sibylla asked.
“The Moroccan Berber leader is sheltering Abd el-Kader. Now my job is to convince Abd al-Rahman to surrender him to France. In return, I am going to reveal to the sultan that the insurgents are planning his overthrow. Should Abd al-Rahman not agree to this deal, the French will begin bombarding Moroccan harbor cities. And you know what that would mean for Mogador.”
“War,” Sibylla concluded quietly. “Dear Lord!”
They were both silent as Sibylla let André’s news sink in. “When do you leave for Marrakesh?”
“First thing tomorrow.”
“Please wait one more day. Please! I am finally going to be permitted to visit Benjamin tomorrow. But after that, I shall accompany you to Marrakesh.”
“You wish to do what?”
“If what you say is true, I cannot wait until the fall to petition the sultan for Benjamin’s release. I must do it now.”
“Never! This is absolutely the wrong time!” André was aghast.
“I’ll decide what the wrong time is,” she snapped at him. “And if you won’t take me, I’ll ride by myself. Benjamin cannot stay marooned on that island any longer. If war really were to break out, he would need to be with his family.”
“But you are completely mad! Can you really believe the sultan is going to give you Benjamin? You told me yourself that the qaid’s henchmen took all of your money. Abd al-Rahman is going to want more than a handful of dirhams borrowed from a maid for the life of your husband!”
Sibylla smiled mischievously. “There is a simple solution: we buy my husband’s freedom with the information about the conspiracy.”
The following morning, Sibylla was taken to the Island of Mogador by the same team of rowers who had carried her husband there three months earlier almost to the day. She was nervous and exhausted, having spent the night packing and thinking about her impending visit to the sultan. Now she was focused on her first encounter with Benjamin since his arrest. She had questions about the shipping business: details of merchant meetings, when she needed to consult Toledano, how to deal with the harbormaster and the captains. In addition, she wanted to inform Benjamin that she was now conducting the affairs of the company. And most of all, she needed to hear at long last what he had to say about the accusations of slave trading. This last question had occupied her days and her nights.
At least now she had a little money at her disposal. A promissory note for Benjamin’s share of the skins he had purchased in Fez had arrived. As had a promissory note from her dowry, which would last until the end of the year to feed her and her children, to pay the servants, and to repay her debt to Nadira.
Sea spray came over the low side of the boat and splashed on Sibylla’s tunic. She wrapped her arms around the basket on her knees and looked back at the shore. Along the sand, pack camels laden with tall loads were moving southward in a long line behind their drivers. Behind them, bathed in sunlight, rose the white walls of Mogador. It was such a peaceful image. She could hardly imagine that war might actually threaten the city soon.
The six men rowed rhythmically past the frigates and brigantines. The Island of Mogador lay before them in the morning mist. The pointy parapets and the tall minaret made the island look like the spiny back of a dragon emerging from the water. High in the air, she saw a falcon, seemingly tiny and almost motionless. Sibylla shaded her eyes and watched as it suddenly swooped down at the island like an arrow.
The thought of her husband made her self-conscious, and she was honest enough to admit that she had not much missed him during his three months of captivity. She had missed André far more.
A few minutes later, the oarsmen slowed and guided the boat through the pointed rock needles protruding from the water to a sandy part of the beach. The commander of the fort and two Black Guards were already awaiting her. The captain helped her disembark.
“Come back after afternoon prayers!” she ordered before the launch cast off again with rapid strokes.
“Assalamu alaikum.” She turned to the commander, a bearded, imposing man with a huge scimitar on his belt. He growled something faintly resembling “Wa-alaikum salam” and pointed to her basket. “Unpack!”
She spread clothes, books, newspapers, toiletries, and a package with fresh bread, fruit, and cheese in front of the soldiers. The commander looked bored, but his soldiers fingered Benjamin’s clothes with great interest. They confiscated his razor but she was allowed to keep everything else. Next, the soldiers took her to the fortress. Sultan Sidi Mohammed Ben Abdallah had had the first walls built at the end of the last century. His descendant Moulay Abd al-Rahman had expanded it with four cannon-fortified bastions and a mosque. Sibylla noticed that it was teeming with soldiers. If the French did attack Mogador, they would meet with forceful resistance.
She decided not to tell Benjamin about the possible threat of war. She did not want to add to his worries. She wrapped her scarf firmly around her head as the wind here was considerably stronger than on the mainland. Apart from a few windblown thuja trees, the only other flora on the island was junipers, grass, and low-growing lichens bearing tiny yellow and white blossoms. Otherwise, there was nothing but rocks, sand, rabbit holes, and soldiers.
Benjamin’s cell was located off the inner courtyard of the western bastion. Sibylla was surprised to find the heavy wooden door open. But then, where was he going to escape to? She stood in front of a small rectangular room. The floor and wall were made of rammed earth, and daylight entered only through the door and a small hole high up on one wall. Sibylla noticed a heavy table with a water jug and an oil lamp. Then she saw Benjamin. He sat on a bed consisting of a simple wooden frame and a straw mattress and was balancing an earthenware bowl of couscous on his knees.