The Moon Worshippers (30 page)

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Authors: Aitor Echevarria

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BOOK: The Moon Worshippers
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Zumalacarrequi finished his tale with: “I think you arrived just in time. She was just telling me how she was looking forward to crushing my skull with a rock and eating my brains.”

“Rest and sleep now. You are safe and in good hands,” said Inaki. He turned to the men.

“You must not touch the body of the girl. She is covered in poison and a single touch will kill. Leave her where she is. We will deal with her in the morning.”

When Zumalacarrequi looked as if he was asleep, Zabala approached Inaki who was sat before the fire.

“Is there anything you can do for him?”

Inaki shrugged his shoulders. “If it were summer perhaps, but in winter there are no herbs with which to treat him. I can do nothing.”

“He will die then?” said Zabala.

“Yes.”

Zabala thought for a moment. “Inaki, I don’t want to offend you, but would you let others try to save him?”

“You have someone in mind?”

“The monks at the monastery.”

“What! Are you mad?”

“Listen, Inaki, there is nothing you can do for him. You have said so yourself. The monks are wise in the ways of medicine. Is it not possible that they could do something? Isn’t it worth a try? What have we to lose? Is it a question of pride or what?”

“No!” said Inaki vehemently.

At that moment the old man spoke. He had heard every word they had spoken about him.

“If I am to die then let me do one more thing before I go.”

“What do you want to do?” asked Inaki gently.

“I want to plant the idea in our enemies’ minds that we are stronger and more dangerous than they ever imagined. If I do that, my life will have been fulfilled. One thing more, Ludovic has been sent with an army to Barcelona. Charlemagne will have his foothold in Spain. He will move northwards from there or he will come here.”

For the rest of the night they listened intently to the old man’s plan. The next day they gathered their belongings and lifted Zumalacarrequi on the pallet down the mountain towards the monastery. Inaki set fire to the hut and the evil inside it as they left. At dusk they reached the monastery. They left Zumalacarrequi at the door. They moved away and threw rocks at the great door and retired into the forest behind the monastery. They watched as the monks came out and took Zumalacarrequi inside. When he was safely inside, Zabala turned to Inaki and said: “We must go home now.”

Inaki replied: “I will stay and watch. If he gets well I will return with Zumalacarrequi.”

The men bade Inaki farewell and left for home. Inaki stayed and waited. He moved into the forest and built a shelter from where he could watch the monastery. On the second day he had the luck to kill a deer and Aize and Inaki feasted on venison that night. They would have food for several days. Some days later he saw the monks come to the edge of the forest and dig a large hole, which they covered with logs and tinder. Next day, they brought a body out of the monastery and placed it upon the great pile of logs over the hole, then the whole thing was set on fire. They waited until the whole fire had collapsed into the hole. After a while, they left it, burning. Inaki came out of his hiding place and performed the rites due to a great warrior. With him, he brought some ivy, which he put on the fire. The ivy would regenerate the spirit and help it to its final resting place. He closed his eyes in silent prayer. As he prayed an orb of deep blue appeared in his mind. It brought him peace and a thought entered his mind.

Inaki returned to the village. To his surprise he found that Zabala was still there. Bad weather had forced him and his men to remain. As they sat on the floor of the house where they were staying, Inaki took in his surroundings and pondered. He took in the familiar smells of sweat, urine and the animals in the stable below. It reassured him. It was like home and suddenly home was where he wanted to be. Zabala interrupted his thoughts.

“What became of the old man? Could they do anything for him?”

Inaki described how the old man’s body had been brought out by the monks, burnt and buried.

“Why did they go to all that trouble of digging a hole in hard frozen ground and then burn him?” asked Zabala.

“I’ve been asking myself the same question. Do you think it’s their custom? Some sort of Christian ritual?”

The two men fell into a thoughtful silence.

“Not their custom. In fact to burn a body is punishable by death under the laws of Charlemagne,” said a voice.

Startled by the voice, the two men looked quickly around the room to see where it had come from. Then in a dark corner of the room they saw an old woman, dressed all in black. Her skin was like brown leather, her eyes, two grey pools in deep hollows, her hair was white. She still had a few of her teeth and was using them on an animal skin; softening it slowly with her remaining teeth.

Inaki cleared his throat. “Could you please explain why you say that?”

“It’s the Ancients’ way.”

Inaki was at a loss and about to open his mouth again when Zabala touched his arm.

“Forgive our ignorance mother,” he began gently, “but we don’t understand. Who are the Ancients?”

“Those who built the fort,” replied the old woman.

“This is going to take longer than her leather work!” whispered Inaki.

“Show respect and patience. The old often hold the keys too many things. Leave this to me,” said Zabala.

Inaki sat back against the wall and folded his arms.

Zabala continued. “Could you tell us where the Ancients come from?”

“Same place as those crows up in the fort.”

Now even Zabala was confused. “Brother, you’re so good,” Inaki said with a smile. He looked at the old woman and said: “Where is this fort you speak of?”

The old woman looked up from her work and with contempt she said, “You should know.” She paused. “You’ve just come from there!”

Inaki gasped: “THE MONESTERY! It’s an ancient fort.”

Zabala joined in, “And the monks are mostly Italians, so the Ancients are Romans and they built the fort?”

Inaki intervened. “The monks turned the fort into a monastery. Yes?”

The old woman nodded. Then she said, “The Romans always used that way of burial for important people or those who they wanted to be left undisturbed and hidden for ever. That monastery is a nest of vipers and spies.”

The two men looked hard at each other. Each was thinking the same thing and knowing that they both could not utter their thoughts. Finally, Inaki broke the silence.

“HE DID IT!” he whispered harshly. “The monks have swallowed his story. They must have believed him and so they had to destroy the body and any trace of him.”

“Yes and so they think we are more in number than we are,” Zabala replied.

Another thought entered Inaki’s mind: one that he did not like. Inaki’s face darkened and his green eyes deepened into two hard green stones. Zabala had not seen this look on his face before, but he had seen it on other men and he knew what it meant.

Zabala chose his words with care and in a low voice said:

“Whatever you feel or are thinking you cannot put these villagers in danger. You must not put them in danger. If anything happened to those monks the village would be burnt to the ground and every man, woman and child put to the sword. You know the Franks would do that?”

He paused and said earnestly: “You must agree with me?”

Inaki nodded.

“Good,” said Zabala. But he was not convinced. “My men and I leave tomorrow. I will not put these good people in any more danger.” Inaki nodded again, but his face had a black expression on it.

“Anyway,” said Zabala, reading his mind, “you have no proof.”

“Then why did they bother to bury him thus and why did he last so long?” Zabala could not answer.

“I leave tomorrow.” With that Zabala got up and left to gather his men.

“I know what you are thinking,” said the old woman in a matter of fact voice. Inaki looked at her. He was taken by surprise by her remark but showed no emotion and said nothing. After a few moments she spoke again, “I had a son. He was strong and brave. Had a wife and child.”

She paused. Inaki said nothing and waited.

“They killed him. Well not directly, but slowly, it was the same.”

Inaki waited again. He knew that sometimes it was better not to probe or ask questions. After a long while, she said: “He was a good man, and a good provider for the family. They took that away for him when they cut off his hands.” This was followed by a long silence.

“He took it for sometime, but in the end he could not stand the helplessness of it all: being spoon-fed like a baby at meal times and not being able to work. He was too proud. Sometime later he took his own life.” She fell silent again.

This time Inaki spoke. “Was it the king’s men that did that to him?”

“He only laughed at them, because they claimed a great victory at Zaragoza.” She paused. “They had come back with nothing; nothing and they claimed a victory!” She spat on the floor. “The Moors had given them a beating and kicked them out of Spain. Lying dogs. What is more, those monks just looked on while they did it. I hate them all. I curse them. May they all die a slow and painful death!”

Inaki sat in silence. He yearned to tell her that it was his people that had defeated the Franks, but he dared not.

She looked at Inaki.

“You will not fear for us. Do you hear me? Do what you will and may the Gods bless you and keep you. Fear not. No one will know.”

She looked straight at him with cold hard eyes full of hate. Inaki knew he could trust her, but said nothing. If you did not know, you could not betray even if you wanted to. Torture was a powerful instrument, especially on the old.

Chapter Twenty One

The Monastery of Roncesvalles

Inaki waited until Zabala had left. He had told no one of his plan and in that way he hoped to protect the innocent from harm. He waited until early evening before talking to his host, the headman of the village, Eneko.

“Have you any candles?” Inaki asked.

“We have a few,” Eneko replied.

“Could I buy some? In a snow hole the heat from a candle can be the difference between life and death and I need a rope and food as well, all of which I will gladly pay for.”

“Fine,” said Eneko. “I will let you have all that we can spare.”

Having packed his things in his leather bag, he carefully wrapped the six candles that he had bought and placed them on top of his other things. He checked his food and weapons, strung the rope over his shoulder, thanked his host and left for home. When he was well out of sight of the village he turned towards the monastery. It would take him all day to reach it and it could be dark before he made it to his shelter above the monastery. He had heard wolves howling in the mountains around the village and if he were caught in the open by them without fire, he would be in mortal danger. If only he could make the tree-line above the monastery before nightfall. It became clear by midday that he would not make the tree-line and he would not have time to make a fire. It had snowed hard for two days and the depth of the snow had made the going slow. He looked below him to lower ground and saw a gulley in the mountain side which was wooded. He turned and made haste towards it. Having reached the gulley he found it to be deeper and more wooded than it had appeared from a distance. He picked out three large pines growing together and dropped his packs and rope to the ground. He set about cutting some small trees. As soon as these where cut and trimmed he climbed the largest of the three pines and set one of the trunks between the branches of his tree and the tree next to him. He repeated this until a platform had been built between the three trees. Having covered the platform with branches and tested it for strength so that he was confident that it would hold his weight, he climbed down and threw his packs up onto the platform. He took the rope and cut a length from it. Then he placed one end around Aize’s chest and the cut length around her rear end. Aize began to growl a small protest. Tying the two lengths together he threw the rope up on the platform.

“Stay!” he commanded Aize, and climbed the tree up on to the platform. Grabbing the rope he pulled the dog off the ground and onto the platform. Aize protested and stood with her tail between her legs and her head down. “Stay and don’t move unless you want to become the wolves supper tonight! Now sit and keep still.” The dog obeyed.

The platform was the height of a man and a half above the ground. Inaki judged that no wolf would be able to jump high enough to reach it. If he was wrong he would soon know. As darkness fell the cry of the wolves grew nearer. It was a very cold night. The cold entered every part of his body and if it were not for the warmth of the dog between his legs as he sat with his cloak around them both, they would not have survived the night. He had put his iron knife in one boot and the doubled-headed axe in his other knee-high boot. In the pitch blackness, dog and man sat, both wrapped in Inaki’s cloak. Inaki sat with his back against the trunk of one of the trees. It grew colder that night and very dark. Around midnight Aize’s whole body seemed to harden against Inaki. The dog had heard the first of the wolves enter the gulley. Inaki knew that Aize was never wrong and he pulled the axe out of his boot and held the handle tightly. Aize stood up and Inaki grabbed the back of her neck tightly, holding her skin and fur. “No!” he whispered into the dog’s ear. “Stay still and quiet.”

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