“A commission?” Aster says bewildered. She squints up at Jocef in the glare of the afternoon sun.
Jocef bounces on his heels face alight with excitement. “You’re very first commission.” Jocef holds up the letter red seal broken neat black script flowing across the page. “And what a commission it is: the Holy Land. Some friar from France Pere is his name has requested a map of the Holy Land.”
“But…” she looks around. The harbor. The sky. The outline of the bay. She spreads her arms. “But this is all I know. Mallorca. How can I draw a map of the Holy Land?”
“Ah the Holy Land is the easiest thing to draw. And what a portentous beginning to your mapmaking —to begin with the Holy Land. It is every cartographer’s wish to draw that footstall of the Heavens.”
