The moment of quiet that has given me an opportunity to record my thoughts is the first pause I've enjoyed in the past several weeks. All I can say is that, should this journal be found and read, know that I am not looking back upon my life from afar. I am unsure who will read these words, or of why I feel compelled to write. In which Solomon prepares for Sancho's war. In which Solomon has visions of the future.

In which Solomon is a witness to portents. In which Solomon drifts further away from Rosseló. In which a seed of Solomon's dissent is laid. In which Solomon distances himself from despair.

In which Solomon leaves Miraglia in Rosselló. In which Solomon makes a fateful decision. In which Solomon raises a family and avoids the war. In which Solomon darkens and war threatens. In which Miraglia's disease is confronted. In which Solomon and Miraglia miss an opportunity. In which Solomon realizes his true feelings. It is perhaps out of guilt that I feel compelled to write my story now. I served my lord well that day, but the second time I met the duke I was alone, and I regret the failures that made such a meeting necessary. We traveled together to Barcelona, where Gausfred offered his leige my services as a healer for his son, who was feverish after having been bitten by a snake. It was Gausfred's patronage that led to my introduction to Ramon Berenguer, the powerful Duke of Catalan. Gausfred d'Empuries was the count of Rosselló and was a good man for him, my ability as a courtier transcended whatever problems might stem from my religion. It has been my lot these many years to serve as a physician in the villa Perpinyá. I have been blessed with wisdom and a full life, and few men could hope for more than that. I favor miraculous God has caused many wonderful and terrible things to happen to me, and I can look back upon what I have done and know that I shined with a unique light. For a man of humble birth dwelling as a stranger in a strange land, my experiences may be more forcefully called impossible or perhaps miraculous. It would not be sufficient to describe the story of my life as strange.

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