"The light of the Cross is infinite, may the Almighty bless the Queen!..."
On the wharf of Seville Port, the shouts of the Holy War veterans were like thunder, the prayers of the priest's chamberlain like lightning. As the flash of thunder and light passed by, the dust on the ground remained unchanged. Seville Port was still a place where prosperity and urban squalor intertwined.
The wheels of the horse carriage rolled over the bluestone and compacted dung, leaving a trail of fresh horse manure. Iron-nailed wooden wheels clashed with the disordered ditches, splashing out turbid urine. Hearing the sound of their kin, the herd of pigs grumbled towards the cargo ships by the sea, only to be met with the curses and shouts of the pig herders. Piles of stinking salted fish lay beside wooden barrels, the flies buzzing around forming part of the fish meat themselves.
"Cough, cough! Bah!..."
