The Moon Worshippers (2 page)

She had travelled from Navarra, the land of our cousins, who are little liked or trusted. She had crossed rivers and mountains, evaded or run from bears, wolves and men. Such a journey could only have been made by a determined woman, who was resourceful, bloody-minded and fearless. She came alone and, like most Basque women, was fiercely independent. Her homecoming caused tremendous interest amongst the men. She was beautiful, with black hair and black eyes. Her eyes were as deep as the darkest and deepest night. Her body was slender. Her skin was fine and soft. She was a most desirable woman in every way with a deep rich voice that seemed to come from the depths of her body. It was a strong voice that made men crumble at the knees.

Why had she come back? Whom would she take as a second husband? Who would she allow to protect her? The answer was none. The women admired her for her self-determination and independence. The men hated her for her aloofness. They had known her since childhood and yet she would not countenance any of them. The men thought her arrogant. They wished her ill and were affronted and angered by her high-handed attitude. His mother’s attitude towards men made them into outsiders and made life difficult for the boy as he grew into manhood. However, he managed to grow strong, but the only male in his family was his uncle and this could have caused him problems.

It was largely because of his uncle’s position in the tribe that he survived at all and the reason that his mother was able to fend off admirers. His uncle was the Nagusi, the appointed guardian of the clan Gods and their healer. He was feared because of his powers, and his authority was unquestionable. In his hands he held the power of life or death when you were ill or injured. Furthermore, a Nagusi had strange and powerful skills not known amongst common men. He could travel in the spirit world and this made him feared by his fellow clansmen.

So it was that the boy came and stayed, as one amongst equals. Yet he was not one of them. His uncle’s position protected him from all but the most powerful. But the youths of the village had no fear of him, and at their age they had little respect for authority. This made life at the hands of his contemporaries harsh and cruel. As time passed the boy grew used to the name-calling, the stones, the fights and then the warmth and tenderness of his mother when he came home dirty, bruised and battered, but never in tears. He was constantly bullied and in the silence of the night he would cry on his own. He grew into a lonely and isolated boy, without a father to protect him, but he would not shed a tear in public no matter how hard the stones or the blows. Never, never, never!

So the boy, Inaki, as his mother had named him, grew, adoring his mother and learning the secrets of the art of healing from his uncle. Of worship and religion he showed no interest. This was much to the anger of his uncle, who would often stop a lesson in a fit of rage when Inaki showed no interest in the God or Goddess from whom the particular herb owed its healing properties. In time, Inaki learnt from the blows to his head and body, to hide his feelings and he became a perfect pupil. His uncle knew that the boy was pretending to show interest in that which held no interest for him. But, he continued to teach him, for he had no sons and as he grew older, Inaki could be sent high into the mountains to the secret places where the herbs and plants that he needed grew.

It was on one of these trips that the boy, now twelve years of age, was to encounter the event that would change his life and his destiny. He had been given food for three days, a blanket and a two-bladed iron axe for protection. He had been carefully instructed to go high into the mountains to a place where a particularly rare blue orchid grew. Its root contained a very powerful poison that not only killed extremely quickly, but if carefully diluted had great healing powers for fevers. It was needed urgently to cure a very sick child.

On the second day he reached the place where the blue orchid was to be found. The climb into the mountains had been hard. Tired and almost exhausted, he started to collect a few roots. The ground was hard and powdered with snow and he had not eaten for a day to conserve his food for the return journey. As he dug, he did not at first become aware of the low sound that floated through the cold air. Then he became slightly aware of a low whimper. So low, that at first he hardly noticed it. It came again. He stopped and listened. Nothing, so he dismissed it. Then just as he began to dig, it came again. He scanned the ground around him. He could see nothing. He went back to work until he had all the roots he needed. He turned towards the way he had come. He started to walk, then suddenly stopped.

The sound seemed to come from directly in front of him some twenty paces ahead and to the right. He moved forward ten paces and stopped. He stood there like a rock for a few moments and was about to move when the whimper came again. He gripped the axe in both hands. He looked around for a position that could be defended with protection for his back. He knew that the animal he had heard could only be the young of a wolf or bear, neither of which he had any intention of meeting on the side of a mountain on open and exposed ground. There was a large rocky overhang above him. He moved slowly and silently upwards until he was safely upon it. He sat down carefully and pondered his position. The place he was on was defensible. Still, he could not stay here very long, since he had little food and it would soon be night. He certainly did not want to spend a long and very cold night here.

For a long time he sat, in deep thought. Should he creep away? Was it a large or small animal? Would there be others coming back? If there were, he would meet them on open ground. The Gods forbid! He must think, like he had never thought before. At this point, as with all boys in difficult situations, his stomach rumbled and made a protest for food. Since he was going to die, he decided he might as well eat some of his precious remaining food. He took the pouch from his belt, removed the linen cloth and opened it. Inside was cheese and bread. As he ate, he thought. He looked down at the cloth and reached for more food.

He cursed slowly and deliberately, “bloody fool!” he said in a harsh whisper. There before him lay his iron and flint… fire. It was the one element all animals feared. It would protect him. He looked around for wood. Oh, what a fool he was! On a mountain this high up there wasn’t any wood. Had the cold air frozen his mind?
Think you idiot. Think! No wood, but plenty of long high grass. Make a torch. Make it big.
As he worked, his thinking became clearer. No animal makes a sound whilst his or her mother is there. They must be alone, surely. Should he look? He gathered up his courage. He would see. He worked his way down and found the entrance to the den under a rock. He lit the torch and pushed it inside. His heart fell. Inside, in the semi-darkness, lay the body of a she-wolf. Beside her were four cubs, all of them dead. On top of the dead mother was another of the wolf cubs. He was almost dead, but still alive. The cub was making a low, whimpering sound. He reached in and grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and gently brought it out. He took some bread, soaked it with water and fed it. Afterwards he placed it inside his woollen tunic and made his way home.

He arrived a day late, hungry and exhausted. The reception he encountered on his return was twofold. From his uncle he received only anger, because of his lateness; his mother showed only pure relief at his return. The cub was the cause of more trouble, when they learnt that it was the reason for his delay and that the puppy had been given most of his food on his return journey. Nobody spoke for days, but the child, for whom he had collected the orchid roots, recovered. This gained him grudging respect within the clan.

His uncle, when he spoke to him, had nothing but harsh words.

“No animal is worth the life of a man. Not even your worthless life, or the life of a child.” And then it was: “Don’t you realise, idiot, that a wild animal can’t be kept or tamed. What good or use is it?”

The boy stood there in silence. He had no answers. He knew that his uncle was right, but his heart told him that he felt for this animal. Something, but what was it? Was it that the cub had been helpless and he had felt pity for him, or was it a gift to him from the Gods? And he reflected: was not the wolf cub just like him? An outsider. Disliked by all and feared because it was different. For that reason alone he would keep him and look after him. Yet he had so many questions. Could a wolf be tamed? Could he be trained? Would the wolf accept him as his master or would it someday turn and kill him? Would it run away when it was fully grown? He must find answers, but who would have them?

Over time, he learnt from the travellers and traders that passed through the village of a strange man in the mountains, who they said lived alone. Rumours circulated that he knew more about animals than anyone, and that he could, it was said, enter the minds of wild beasts. They also said that he preferred animals to people and did not take kindly to strangers. They warned him that he was, apparently, extremely bad tempered. After much thought, Inaki decided that he would seek him out after the snows had cleared.

The cub grew. It was now six moons since he had found him. It was completely black; so black, that in strong sunlight, his fur looked as if it had a depth of blue colour in it. The eyes were yellow, the head large. It was almost up to the middle of a man’s thigh in height and with a mouth of interlocking white teeth. His most disconcerting trait was to stare at anyone who approached, his head lowered and body erect, as if he was about to pounce. He was feared by everyone except the boy, whose side he never left. No one dared go near the animal. No more the curses or stones from the other boys; no words of anger were spoken in the wolf-dog’s presence. He was his master’s protector. He slept at his side at night and walked at his side by day.

If voices were raised, the wolf-dog’s lips would curl back over those fearsome teeth and a deep long growl would rise from his throat, full of menace and warning, silencing them all. All at once life was sweet and all gave way to them, be it man or beast. For the first time in his life, he had power and he liked the feel of it. It felt natural to him as if it was in his blood.

At springtime, Inaki spoke to his mother. “There is a man that I have to see, Mother.”

“Who might that be, my son?” his mother asked.

“I do not know his name, but he knows about animals.” His mother thought and then spoke softly to him.

“There are many here that are wise and know animals. Arturo the hunter for one, and then there is your uncle who not only heals people but animals too.”

“Yes, Mother,” said the boy, “but they don’t understand my animal. It is to him that I must go and learn about wolves and dogs.”

“I see,” said his mother with a smile on her face, “and where is this unique man?”

“About fourteen days south from here, up in the mountains,” said the boy.

“For a journey like that you will need boots, food for two and a warm cloak, none of which I can provide you with. How will you get them? You have nothing to trade for them.”

Inaki thought desperately hard.

“I will work for what I need. We can get work guarding sheep,” Inaki said, looking down at the wolf-dog.

“Very well,” said the mother, “when you have your boots and cloak, I for my part will provide the food, and then we will talk again.”

As the boy walked away his mother looked at him. How quickly time had passed. Soon he would be a man and she would lose him. She shuddered a little at the thought.

Chapter Two

The Gathering Storm

By midsummer, Inaki had his boots and cloak and left the village to look for the animal man. He travelled into the high mountains for four days. Then on the sixth day he reached the crest of the first range of mountains. Before him he saw two further ranges. Between each range were deep-wooded misty valleys and beyond the second range, somewhere there he should find the man he sought. The work had gone well. There had been no shortage of folk who had wanted the services of his wolf-dog. On his feet was a fine pair of deer skin boots; about his shoulders a heavy woollen cloak that his mother had traded for and in his belt a fine long knife of iron and the two-headed axe. He had done well, but it had taken longer than he bargained for.

On the tenth day, in a high valley, between two great mountains he found a hut of stone. Outside and on the slopes some sheep and goats grazed. As he approached, two enormous dogs came barking towards him. He stopped, sat down and waited. The dogs rushed towards him. He made the wolf-dog sit. The dogs came on. The wolf-dog soon flattened himself on the ground with head forward and eyes fixed firmly on the approaching dogs. His whole body coiled, ready to attack.

“Steady, stay!” whispered, Inaki.

The wolf-dog relaxed at his master’s voice and his head rested between his paws.

At four paces from him, the dogs stopped but were still barking. Then they began growling and showing their teeth. Inaki could see that they weren’t at all friendly. They were a fearsome sight and both boy and wolf-dog remained very still so as not to antagonise them further. For some time the situation remained the same. Eventually the dogs stopped barking and growling and just sat watching him. If he made to move they growled and stood up. This situation seemed unresolvable and remained the same for what seemed like an age.

In essence, the time that had passed was shorter than he thought. It just felt longer. Suddenly the wolf-dog stood up and rapidly turned round growling. The boy looked behind him. There, some twenty paces away, stood a mountain of a man. He gave a long, low whistle and the two dogs ran to his side and sat. He gave the boy a long, hard and unpleasant look. His azure eyes were as cold as the pebbles in a mountain stream and his piercing gaze seemed to go through Inaki to his very bones.