Chapter 25: What Cordoba Lacked

⁠​​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌⁠Through a flowery field of cloth-of-gold we came, while the afternoon was young, into Cordoba—“Kartuba the Important,” lying like a grave entombing its dead glory, prone at the foot of tombstone mountains.

After the dazzle of wild-flowers shining in the sun, and the ozone of country breezes, a sudden entrance into the network of narrow streets was like being thrown, without a clue, into the Minotau