Update 49 – Anna Cullerez
(Hacienda de Mendoza [1], October 1636)
Anna and her brother Joaquin were busy planting seeds. The warmth of the spring sun helped warm them against the cold wind blowing up from the South. Anna treasured the few moments she had with her older brother. He was often away tending the Haceinda's cattle herd, as it roamed over the vast prairie. However, right now, it was time for spring calving, and the cows were kept close to home so they could be better taken care of. Joaquin was free to spend time with his family, for once.
For some reason, today Joaquin seemed more serious than he usually was. He didn't joke with Anna they way he usually did, and kept glancing over his shoulder. It was almost as if he was afraid someone was watching him. “Anna,” he at last asked, “have you ever had a chance to hear a recitation of the Quran?”
Anna thought for a minute. Her mother had often told her of the beautiful words she'd heard as a child in Oran before her family had come across the ocean to New Valencia. But she'd always spoken of it as something in the past, something that Grandmother and Grandfather used to do before they'd left Oran. Anna had never thought of a Quran recitation as something that still happened here in New Valencia. “No, I definitely have never heard one,” she replied.
“Well, I have,” bragged Joaquin. “It's really a life-changing experience. Those words, there can be nothing more beautiful than holy words read out loud.”
Anna was puzzled. Speaking Arabic was strictly prohibited, and, while Grandmother and Grandfather had made an effort to teach her the basics of the language as a child, she'd never felt comfortable using it with anyone who wasn't immediate family. “Where did you hear such a thing?” she asked.
“Well,” Joaquin replied, “last time I was out with the cattle herd, we came across a vagabundo hunting party, a group of five young men off hunting Rheas. At first we thought they were after our herd, but they soon laid down their weapons, and offered us some of their crafts and herbs if we would feed them and let them spend the night with us.”
“It took them a while to open up,” Joaquin continued, “but once their leader had ascertained that there were no criollos [2] amongst us, he began speaking to us of religious matters. He told us of the freedom that his people had to worship the One True God. He told us that if any of us wanted to leave these oppressive criollos behind, we were welcome to join them. He taught us to pray, and then he gave us a recitation of the Quran before we went to sleep.”
Anna felt that she knew where her brother was going with this. “So, do you want to join them, she asked? Do you want to leave our family behind?”
“Well, what sort of a future do I have here? I could stay and take care of the Mendoza cattle herd for the rest of my life, or I could leave, join the vagabundos and maybe someday I could have a cattle herd of my own.”
“But, they won't be your cattle, they'll just be some other criollo's cattle that you stole. And you'll probably get shot before you can get anywhere with them.”
“You know, little sister, the vagabundo lifestyle isn't all about stealing. Vagabundos are an honourable people who live their lives according to the Quran. They only take from the criollos what is due according to the jizya tax. And they never ever steal from fellow Muslims.” [3]
“How do you know so much about vagabundos all of a sudden?” Anna asked. “This isn't the first time you've met up with them out on the range, is it?”
Joaquin was silent. It seemed that he didn't know what to say. Almost like he didn't want to tell Anna everything that was going on. When he next spoke it was almost a whisper. “Let's just say that I might be leaving soon to go join them. And I'm worried about missing my family. I know that Mother and Father are going to want to stay here: after all they have our younger siblings to take care of. But you, you're thirteen now. You're old enough to make your own way with me in the wilderness. You could be a vagabunda too if you were willing to join me…”
“I don't know,” Anna replied, “Father always told me that it was our Muslim ways that got us expelled from Spain. He always said that the path of Islam was the path of the persecuted, and that we'd have to give it up if we were to be successful. He always said that if I keep going to Church I might meet a criollo boy, and one day I might be able to become a mistress of my own Hacienda. Honestly, I just don't think I'm willing to give that up.”
“I'll miss you sister,” Joaquin said as he turned and got back to his planting.
* * * * *
(Hacienda de Mendoza, February 1639)
Anna awoke to the sound of her window being opened from the outside. She sat bolt upright in bed, and looked around the room she shared with her two younger sisters. She saw a figure climbing in through the window. The figure was dressed in buckskins and carried a bow and arrow over his shoulder. A vagabundo! she thought.
Before Anna could let out a scream, a hand was placed over her mouth. “Shh…” a familiar voice said. “You mustn't wake anyone.”
“Joaquin?” Anna inquired hopefully. It was her brother's voice that she had heard, wasn't it.
“The name's Imran ibn Yahia al-Kullera, [4] but yes, I am your brother.”
“What are you doing here?” Anna asked. “You know that you'll be shot on sight if the criollos see you!”
“Yes, and that's why it's your job to make sure that they don't see me. I'm here because I need your help.”
“My help?” Anna asked.
“Yes,” Joaquin – or Imran, as he was now calling himself – replied. One of my friends, a fellow vagabundo, was captured by the army last week. We believe he's being held prisoner inside Nueva Xativa. We have no hope of getting inside the city ourselves to get him out, but we were thinking that you could get inside. Maybe you need to go to the market there to buy a new pot for our kitchen. Could you deliver this letter to my friend?” He held up a folded piece of paper.
“Are you mad?” Anna asked. “I may be able to get inside the city, but that's not the same as being able to deliver a letter to your friend. He's probably being held within the barracks itself, and I am not going to risk going in there. The only way a campesina girl like myself could get inside would be to sleep with one of the soldiers. I haven't seen you in over two years, and this is what you ask of me. I'm sorry, but I'm not doing that for you!”
Imran was silent. He clearly was embarrassed, but as usual, didn't have anything to say for himself. He sat there staring at Anna as she glared back at him.
“Joaquin?” came a voice out of the darkness. It must be Anna's sister Juana. The commotion must have woken her. “Mommy! Daddy!” she called out. “Joaquin's back!”
This time it was Anna who ran across the room. “Don't yell like that!” she whispered. “You'll wake the whole hacienda.”
But it was too late. Anna already saw the flicker of a torch outside her window. She ushered Yaakoub into her bed, and covered him in her blankets as the watchmen strode up to her window.
“Is everything ok in there?” the watchman asked. “I heard a yell.” He shone his torch in the window, with his other hand on the pistol at his belt. His light soon fell on the lump in Anna's bed. “Oh, I see what's going on,” he said, “you have a boy in here don't you? Let me get a good look at him!”
Anna knew that she couldn't let the watchman see her brother. If he did, he'd probably shoot him, or at least take him prisoner. As she thought of what to say to the watchman, she noticed her brother's bow and quiver of arrows propped against the wall next to the window.
Being careful to keep her movements out of sight, Anna grabbed an arrow from the quiver, and thrust it out the window, striking the watchman. While the watchman was able to block the blow with his arm, this only succeeded at driving the arrowhead deep into his forearm, causing him to call out in pain and drop the torch to the ground. A momentary darkness was followed with increasing light as the flames from the torch spread to the dry grass.
“Fire!” Juana called out. “Fire! Fire!” She had grabbed up her chamber pot and dumped it on the flames outside the window, but it seemed to make little difference. Anna was quick to take charge and herd her siblings out of the house. It was only when they were clear of the house and standing in the yard that Anna realized that her brother was still with her.
“Yaakoub,” she asked, “why are you still here? It's not safe for you.”
“It's also not safe for you,” he replied. “You just assaulted the watchman. Once he recovers from the wound you gave him, I'm sure he'll be looking for you. You'd better come with me.”
Anna turned to her sister. “Juana,” she said, “I need you to be in charge. Stay here can keep our siblings safe until Mother and Father find you. I need to go with Joaquin. I hope to see you again some day, but it might not be for a while.” She hugged her sister, and then ran after her brother who was already off ahead.
Over a low rise was a horse tied to a stake in the ground. “This here is Fatimah,” Yaakoub said, “she's strong. She can probably carry the weight of both of us.” He jumped on the back of the horse and helped his sister get on behind him. Soon Anna was clinging to her brother's back as the horse bore them away into the warm night.
* * * * *
(Carahue, December 1642)
Anna dreamed that she was on horseback. She was riding, riding, over the dry plain towards the mountains. Her band of vagabundos surrounded her, each on their own horse, with the herd of cattle that belonged to the band out in front of her.
She recognized this place. This was a small valley in the foothills of the great mountains. The land in this valley had once been farmed by the vagabundos before the Spanish armies had come and burned the fields. She had come to this valley many times since then. Whenever the band was under pursuit by the army, they always came here. There were many spots here where the band could hide, and take up positions to ambush the soldiers. While Imran had his bow, Anna would carry a musket she had picked off of one of the dead soldiers. It was heavy and difficult to aim, but she had killed many criollos with it over the years of war.
However, in her dream, there were no criollos behind her. Chasing her was a single man on a single horse. At first the man was the prophet Moses, carrying a stone tablet that read “And do not kill anyone which Allah has forbidden!”. But, as soon as Anna read those words, the man's face changed, and now it was the prophet Mohammed crying out “Fight in the name of your religion with those who fight against you!”. But, as Anna focused her eyes again, she realized that there was not one man but two, and two women as well. She recognized the four faces of Ngenechen: Moses was the old man, Mohammed the young man, the old woman bore the face of the Machi [5] of Carahue, and the young woman bore the face of Anna herself. [6]
“Aanaa, Aanaa,” a voice called. Anna woke to see her brother shaking her. He pronounced her name in the Arabic fashion which had always seemed artificial to Anna herself. Anna still spoke Spanish in her day-to-day life. While she followed the Muslim religion herself, and said her prayers in Arabic, she refused to learn any more of the language than was necessary for that. After all, it was Spanish that the vagabundos used in
Looking out the flap of the hide tent in she slept, Anna could see the glow on the horizon that signalled that dawn was on its way. “Thank you for waking me in time,” she said to her brother, “it will be good to get a good nourishing meal in before the sun comes up.”
“Yes,” Imran replied “today is the day that we slaughter our cattle. You will need the energy of a good meal.
Ever since Anna had been with the vagabundos, they had made a point of coming to Carahue every year during Ramadan. The vagabundos had always had a tradition of staying put during Ramadan, as traveling while fasting took quite the toll on the body. Before the war had started, the annual Ramadan fast would take place in the vagabundo villages in the Eastern foothills of the mountains. However, since the army had destroyed most of the vagabundo villages, most vagabundos had instead decided to come over the mountains to the Mapuche lands to fast amongst their friends, allies, and trading partners.
The Mapuche people had been at war with the Spanish long before Anna's own grandparents had come over the ocean to New Valencia. The Mapuche town of Carahue was itself built on the ruins of a Spanish city that had been built almost one hundred years ago. In the Mapuche language, Carahue meant 'city that was'. The Mapuche had been trading partners of the vagabundos ever since the first vagabundo had fled his criollo masters, and, with the outbreak of the war, the Mapuche and vagabundos were no longer just trading partners, but were military allies.
While Imran had assured Anna that there had been a time when the vagabundos had refused to steal more than would be owed to them by the jizya tax, the war had forced the vagabundos to steal in order to feed themselves. Isolated villages and haciendas would be raided by the vagabundos who would carry off anything of value, would eat the crops and would herd the cattle away. However, the cattle would not be immediately slaughtered, but would be led over the mountains to the Mapuche lands. It was here that the great cattle slaughter would take place, followed by the great feast that Mapuche and vagabundo alike would share on the final night of Ramadan. In exchange for beef and leather obtained from the great slaughter, the Mapuche would provide the vagabundos with agricultural foods, weapons, and other supplies for the coming years' raids.
In the great field in the centre of the vagabundos' tent city was gathered the cattle herd. In the dawn light, Anna could already see men at work dividing the cattle herd into two parts. About a quarter of the herd would be slaughtered by the vagabundos' Imams while the remaining three quarters would be given to the Machi of Carahue to be slaughtered as a prayer was said to Ngenechen.
Anna could remember the first year she had come to Carahue. Back then, the Machi had only prayed over those animals which would be sacrificed to Ngenechen, and the remainder had been slaughtered and butchered without any prayer being said. That was the year that the Imam of Anna's band had declared the meat haram, and had refused to eat any of it. This had caused such an uproar that, the following year, the Machi had been careful to pray for every single animal before it was killed, both those that would be sacrificed and those that would be eaten. [7]
Anna soon found herself walking over to the Mapuche side of the field, where the Machi was busy drumming and chanting her prayer for the cattle that would be slaughtered. Whatever beauty Yaakoub had found in the recitation of the Quran, Anna found that same beauty in the songs of the Machi. Anna couldn't help but think that her Imam was nothing more than a boy. He was just a boy like her brother who had been taught Arabic and given a copy of the Quran by his grandfather. While he could recite the Quran and describe everything it said, he seemed utterly lost when it came to the ways of the world.
The Machi on the other hand, had an almost magical aura of wisdom and power. She not only knew how to pray, but also could heal the sick and could lead her people in coming together for ceremony. There was something she had, something that Anna still did not quite understand, that drew Anna to her. Anna wanted to watch her, to learn more about her spiritual power, and to get a greater understanding of the ways of the Mapuche.
As Anna walked towards the Machi, she caught sight of a young man she recognized. His name was Nahuel, and he was one of the few men in Carahue who spoke good Spanish. Anna had gotten to know him through her stay in Carahue, and it was good to see someone on this side of the field that she could talk to.
“It's good to see your lovely face again,” Nahuel greeted.
“Lovely?” Anna responded, “you'd think that by now it would be scarred with guilt from theft and murder.” She was only half sarcastic – she really did feel that every raid against the Spanish made her heart a little heavier.
“But you are talking about warfare, are you not? You are fighting to save your own life, and the lives of your band.”
“But that doesn't make it any better,” Anna answered, “I still feel deep in my heart that every time I kill, I lose a little bit of my own soul. I've talked to my Imam about it, and he says that the Quran makes it very clear that there's nothing wrong with killing in defence of your faith. However, the more he tells me about it, the less and less I believe him. I was hoping maybe of having a chance to ask your Machi about it. She seems much wiser than my Imam.”
“Well,” Nahuel responded, “I can try to set up a meeting for you. But, you know, she doesn't speak and Spanish.”
“But, you could translate, couldn't you?”
Nahuel smiled. “In fact, I'm translating for her right now,” he said. “She says that your place is not on the battlefield. She says that you don't have the heart of a warrior, but one of a family woman, a mother.”
“A mother?” Anna asked. She knew that she was now old enough that she should be looking to get married and settle down, but she had been too busy just surviving for the past three years to really think about that.
“The problem,” Anna continued, “is that I don't really have a choice. I'm a vagabunda now, I've killed Spanish soldiers, and they will never forgive me for that. I can't go back to the hacienda and become a campesina again. I thought, when I first joined the vagabundos that there would be a chance I could make my way in an isolated village in the wilderness, growing vegetables, tending to the herds, and marrying a man who would would go off hunting and raiding. However, it seems that every vagabundo village we've visited has been abandoned. They've all been destroyed by the Spanish army. The only choice we have now is to run, fight, and then run again.”
“Well, you do have another choice,” Nahuel broke in. “You could stay here. I'm sure there are plenty of men here who would be happy to marry you.” From Nahuel's tone, it was clear that it was himself he was speaking of.”
“I'll think about it,” Anna replied. Nahuel will do, she thought.
* * * * *
(Carahue, August 1650)
“…and then Allah said to Nuh: 'I am sending a great flood to the Earth to wash all sinners away. You must build a great boat and you must collect my followers in it…' ” Anna was busy telling the story of Nuh and his Ark to her children, when she was interrupted by Rayen, her eldest daughter.
“I know how this ends!” Rayen broke in. “Allah is going to send Caicai-Vilu to flood the land, and then Tenten-Vilu will come and save the land from the great flood!”
“Well, not quite,” Anna replied, “this flood I am speaking of happened back in the Dar al-Tawhid across the great ocean. The flood caused by Caicai-Vilu happened right here in the Dar al-Dawa.” [8]
“So, does Allah rule the Dar al-Tawhid while Tenten-Vilu rules the Dar al-Dawa?”
“Not exactly,” Anna replied. This type of question was one of the hardest for Anna to answer. One of the few verses of the Quran that she had taken to heart was 'Say to the disbelievers: To you, your beliefs, to me, mine.' This verse had greatly influenced her dealings with her husband and with her husband's people, but was hard to apply to her own children. They were not really 'believers' nor 'disbelievers' yet, and, as much as Anna wanted them to follow her own faith, she knew that life would be easier for them if they instead followed that of her husband.
Anna was still trying to figure out what to say when she was interrupted by a man at the door of her hut. “I thought you would want to know,” he said, “that your people are here.” Anna knew which people he meant. His brother must have come back this year, and just in time for Ramadan. She quick got up and ran to the edge of the town to watch the vagabundos approach.
By the time Anna got to the edge of town, the vagabundos had already arrived. There seemed to be fewer of them this time, only half as many as had come last time. And, this time there was no great cattle herd. But, at least they were here. Last year, the vagabundos had not come at all.
Anna caught site of her brother, and ran towards him, greeting him with a great embrace. “Imran, I'm so glad you came!” she called out.
“I'm glad to see you too. I see you have my niece and nephew with you too,” Imran said, looking down at Anna's children. “They're so much bigger than they were last time I was here.”
“Well, that's because you didn't come last year! What happened? Why weren't you here for Ramadan.”
“Well, you've probably heard that the war is over,” Imran replied, “the Spanish were defeated, and there's a new French government in Buenos Aires, or Bien-Air as they're calling it now. They've promised us religious freedom, and have granted every vagabundo band land to call our own. That village that used to be ours in the foothills, it's now been rebuilt!”
“Congratulations!” Anna replied, “but you still haven't answered my question.”
“Well, we did spend a good part of last Ramadan rebuilding the village. Besides, we didn't have any cattle to bring here. There wouldn't be a point in coming over the mountains if it wasn't for the cattle-trading. You see, part of the deal with the French which has allowed us to return to our village is that we've promised never to steal from the criollos. We were allowed to keep the cattle we already had at the time of the peace, and we've been breeding them to rebuild our herd. It's taken us until this year to breed enough cattle to have a herd worth driving over the passes.”
“Besides,” Imran continued, “having our own land comes at a cost. The French government has taken to taxing us in exchange for protection against 'Native attacks'. We're required to give a portion of our herd each year to the tax collectors who then take it to Nueva Xativa to be sold. Some of our band have refused to give in to the French demands for taxes, and have returned to a life of banditry. The French soldiers have mostly succeeded in driving those bandits South of the Rio Negro, but they continue to raid North of the Rio Negro, attacking vagabunos and criollos alike.” [9]
“But peace is still better than war, isn't it?” Anna asked.
“For sure,” Imran replied, “I mean I'm actually thinking of getting married now and settling down. That was actually something I thought that maybe you could help me with. Do you know of any young women in town who are looking for a husband and might be willing to convert to Islam?”
Footnotes:
[1] This Hacienda is located near TTL's Nueva Xativa (near OTL's Cordoba, Argentina). The 'de Mendoza' is the name of the family that owns the Hacienda, it bears no connection to OTL's Mendoza, Argentina.
[2] The Moriscos use the term 'criollo' to refer to all settlers of Spanish Christian ancestry. The 'penninsulaire' vs 'criollo' distinction is nearly irrelevant to the Moriscos as both castes oppress them equally much, and most of the penninsulaires are in the citys of Buenos Aires and Nueva Xativa far away from the Haciendas where the Moriscos work.
[3] Joaquin is romanticizing here. The vagabundo code of ethics isn't quite as strict as he's making it out to be, but the vagabundos aren't at this time, primarily thieves. They hunt, herd cattle, and cultivate small farms in their villages in the Andean foothills.
[4] This is just an Arabization of the Spanish name Joaquin Cullerez.
[5] Ngenchen is the Mapuche creator spirit. A machi is a female shaman amongst the Mapuche.
[6] Don't read too much into this scene. Anna is dreaming, and her brain is just jumbling up ideas from Islam and Mapuche spirituality all together. The point of this paragraph is just to illustrate some of the ideas that Anna is exposed to, and the syncretic nature of the vagabundo version of Islam.
[7] In orthodox Islam, meat is only halal if it is slaughtered by a Muslim (or, for some, by a Christian or Jew), but meat slaughtered by a pagan is usally not considered Halal. Thus, the acceptance of meat slaughtered by the Mapuche as halal is one of the syncretic aspects of the vagabundo Islam.
[8] 'Dar al-Tawhid' means 'house of Monotheism' and is a phrase that is used in Arabic as roughly synonymous with 'Dar al-Islam' to refer to the Islamic world. TTL's vagabundos have adopted the term to refer to the Old World where Islam is established, as opposed to the New World where Islam is just being introducted. 'Dar al-Dawa' means 'house of invitation' and refers to lands where Islam has been recently introduced. Thus, to a certain extend, the Dar al-Tawhid vs. Dar al-Dawa divide is the Old World / New World divide, but in a way that paints the Old World as synonymous with the Muslim world, ignoring Christian Europe, much of sub-Saharan Africa, and most of Asia.
[9] Just like in OTL, Patagonia won't be properly settled by Europeans until the 18th/19th centuries. The Rio Negro and BioBio River mark the division between French-governed terrritory and Native-controlled land.