The Eagle & The Dove

Part 1:  THE GYPSIES Chapter 4/Page 1

  At thirty-eight years old, Francisco Habby Lomez was one of the youngest Elders anyone in the clan could remember. Officially made an Elder three years ago, he was renowned for his quick intelligence and sense of fair play. He took his responsibility very serious and everyone had to agree that he well deserved the rank of Elder.  Six foot tall and with solidly packed muscles, he carried about him the appearance of a powerful man.  

     With only Habby and his work force now remaining in the market square, Ferdinand Herreria approached and not to pleasantly told Habby to hurry up and get his people moving.

  For three years, Habby had controlled the work party assigned to Herreria. He had been chosen because the Elders feared that without the strong control Habby excerpted over his crew, someone would send Herreria to the hell he justly deserved. One day Herreria would go to far with his cruel jibes and unrestrained insults to the Gypsies. 

  Within five minutes the Gypsies were once again mounted and on they’re way out of the village. Already faint streaks of red and blue could be seen in the sky above the eastern mountains.  As they followed Herreria on the thirty-minute journey to his plantations, Habby tried to engage Herreria in conversation.

 'Excuse me Patron' he asked Herreria, who was mounted on one of the finest Andilucian piebald Habby could remember seeing.

  'What is it', snapped back Herreria irritably, without turning to answer. Controlling his impulse to just ignore his Patrons bad manners, Habby then asked if Herreria could guarantee a full ten weeks work for all his people.

  Herreria now turned to Habby with a look of pure contempt, spat to the side, narrowly missing Habby's mount and grunted his reply. “You'll just have to find out”, he replied, “now shut up and just follow me”.  Herreria facing forward in the saddle once more, missed the look of pure hatred that flashed across Habby's face.

'One day Herreria' whispered Habby, 'one day I shall watch you die. Then I will spit and piss on your corpse, and every year I shall return to piss on your grave you dog'.

  These whispered words did little to hold his anger in check, so to keep a tight control, Habby began to survey the surrounding countryside.

  Now the winter sun could be seen rising above the mountains ahead of them as they rode. The effect in the valley was beautiful to behold. As far as the eyes could see olive glinted, reflecting the suns rays of the frost and ice that covered the trees. On the ground, patches of ice added to the glistening effect, making the whole valley twinkle as if thousands of tiny mirrors were catching the sunlight and throwing them back to its rightful owner. In the far distance, the great mountain peaks with their snow-covered caps also added to this panoramic scene allowing Habby to forget Herreria and just lose himself in its beauty.

  Soon the party had wound its way down to the river, crossing over a wooden bridge and up a small cart track that led to Herreria's land.

  Looking to the river, Habby knew that although not very wide at this point, if one was to follow the river west and through the mountain pass out of the valley named after it, the river would start to widen. Once out of the valley, the Guadalquivir was joined and considerably widened by its sister the Guadiana Menor.

  Following the river banks reflected Habby, one could ride into the true heart of Andalusia. He himself had followed the full length of the river, from its beginning in the Eastern mountains to its exit into the Gulf of Cadiz. One hundred and fifty kilometres west came the great city of Cordoba. This city had been chosen by the Moors as their intellectual capital, and their influence had remained long after the last of their own people had been expelled.

  And not for nothing had it been chosen.  Here Spain's four leading philosophers had flourished. They included the Jew Moses Maimonides, considered intellectually to be the most brilliant man Spain had produced. The Christian Bishop Hosius who was counsellor of Constantine the great. Averroes the Islamic philosopher who codified Islamic thought and brought Aristotle to the attention of the west. But by far the most famous and Habby's favourite Spaniard, Lucius Annaeus Seneca, poet, writer, philosopher, orator, pagan and politician.

  Although most Gypsies were capable of speaking the major Mediterranean languages, very few could read or write. Habby himself was no exception. He did however understand the importance of the written word and had encouraged his daughter Manana to learn, under the tutelage of Pierre the wise.

  Many was the evening he had listened to Manana reading aloud from some book Pierre had managed to obtain. Occasionally, Habby would ask Manana to read some of Seneca's works. Habby had committed to memory much of Seneca's wisdom. Whatever problems Habby encountered in the day to day existence, it seemed the great man had an answer. Of justice Seneca had said

 "Man is a social animal, and born to live together so as to regard the world as one house.

It was also Seneca's view on religion which Habby found uplifting.

  " God is not to be worshipped with sacrifices and blood: for what pleasure can He have in the slaughter of the innocent? He is to be worshipped with a pure mind, a good and honest purpose. Temples should not be built for Him with stones piled on high: God is to be consecrated in the heart of each.

  Habby had already visited Cordoba on a few occasions, it was his wish to return once again and visit the statue of Seneca so as to pay homage to the great man.

Of the city's history, Habby knew quite a bit. For over five hundred years, the Moors controlled the major part of Spain from here. It was said that at its glory the population was over one million, with three thousand mosques, public baths and palaces. Its library was said to have contained nearly 400,000 books and its poets and philosophers had made it an equivalent to Cairo and Baghdad.

  Nearly three hundred years had passed since the Moors were driven from Cordoba, and since that time many of the Islamic architecture had been destroyed. Cordoba no longer stood in glory, its population had dwindled and trade had deteriorated.

  Leaving Cordoba, the Guadalquivir continued to widen. To the North lay the high forests and mountain lakes of Serrana Bagera, and to the south the rolling grasslands and foothills of Andalusia. Here roamed the wild horses which had won fame throughout the civilized world as the finest cavalry mounts available. Wild bear and wolf, cattle, goats and sheep also roamed free through these lands which stretched for three hundred kilometres.