The Moon Worshippers (16 page)

“Don’t know how many, but a lot I think.”

“Do you think they will put up a fight?” Arostegi, said with a troubled look on his face.

“You can bet your life on it,” Inaki replied.

“They are only women,” Elexoste said, his voice full of contempt, “what can they do against fully armed men?”

Inaki frowned.

“They may be ‘only women,’ but they are like no other women that you have ever known. Remember that these ladies devoured their own children in the past and if they capture you, you will be sacrificed. Your heart will be cut out whilst still alive and eaten! And remember this; they have managed to survive for hundreds of years. That is no mean feat.”

Inaki’s words sent a cold chill down the men’s backs. Several of them looked down at the ground. Aguirre sensed the fear that had entered their minds. This troubled him. He quickly came to the conclusion that if they were to succeed, the men had to be told everything that Inaki knew about the Sisters of the Moon and their place of hiding. To be forewarned was to be forearmed and the truth would put iron in their blood. Turning to Inaki, he said: “You must tell them everything you know, especially your visit with the Sacred Octopus God. Don’t leave out the smallest detail. Their lives depend on it.”

Inaki sat and thought. What Aguirre had said was true. The problem was that women were held in high esteem by the Basques and they would have to kill without thought or compassion. It struck him that the Earth Mother was the most sacred of all the Gods. How was he to persuade them that they had to kill, when it went so strongly against all that they held sacred? He decided that his only chance was to emphasise the Sister’s diabolical sacrifices of humans and their crimes against children. But would it be enough to toughen their resolve? That was the question. He took a deep breath and began.

“Listen to me. The Sisters are the most evil people you are likely to encounter in your lifetime. You have a duty to your families and your children to wipe them from the face of the earth. Furthermore, their destruction and the release of the Moslem child could save our race. The Sisters believe that the Moon Goddess created the spiritual world and that the earth was created by an evil Goddess, the Mother Earth. They condemn marriage and the family; they believe in suicide and recommend it, since it is a short cut to what they believe is the real world: the world of spirits. Human sacrifices are an important part of their religious ceremonies, since they believe that, by sacrifices, they are populating the spiritual world of the Moon Goddess, sending her servants to tend her and securing their place at her side. In the springtime rituals, the devouring of children is common.”

Inaki paused and looked at the men’s faces. The fear had gone. In its place a look of fierce determination could be seen on each of their faces. His words had been well aimed and had hit each man’s heart.

Elexoste jumped to his feet. Raising his battle-axe he said, “Just lead me to them, Inaki. I’ll kill every one of the murdering bitches!”

“Look at him!” Arostegi said.

“The youngest and bravest of us all. Please leave some for us, oh great and mighty warrior!”

“Here,” said Arient standing up, “let me see that axe blade of yours. Oh! It badly needs sharpening if you are going to cut off so many heads. Look at it! What a state it’s in.”

Elexoste looked at the axe blade quizzically. The men fell about laughing. Inaki smiled.

“Never mind them,” said Inaki trying to suppress his mirth. “There will be plenty of them for all of us. Perhaps more than enough. Now let’s find the cave.”

*

With that the men got up and moved down towards the nearest ravine. The ravines had been formed by the water rushing down the mountainside over thousands of years. They were deep and largely covered in shrubs and trees at their base. Some had small streams running down their centres, others were dry. The first ravine proved fruitless, as did the next. At the third they found traces of woodcutting. The dogs became more active and interested. Smelling the ground and moving further up the ravine they suddenly stopped before a rock face. As the men reached the dogs, they could see a narrow path leading to a gap in the rock face. The men stopped and looked at the gap in silence.

“Looks too small for a cave,” Arturo said.

“Look at Storm!” Aguirre said.

The men looked at the wolf-dog. He was standing perfectly still. The dog’s head was held low and the hair on his back was on end. Inaki moved up to him and placed a hand on his head. The wolf-dog, with lightning speed, whipped round and bit his hand. Inaki gave a yelp and jumped back, shaking the injured hand. A deep look of injured surprise came onto his face. He looked questioningly at Aguirre and then back at Storm. He could not understand it. Then a thought came to him… could this be the time that Aguirre had spoken of so long ago when Storm would revert to a full wolf? He had never seen Storm like this before. His whole body language was that of a wild animal. That part that had been dog was totally gone. He was all wolf now. Aguirre came to Inaki’s side and understood the young man’s torment. He spoke softly, so that the others could not hear.

“Don’t worry. He did not mean to hurt you. He’s frightened and just reacted like any animal would.”

In a loud voice, he turned to the men and said:

“There’s your answer Arturo. That dog would not react in that way if there were not something truly evil behind those rocks. How brave do you feel now Elexoste?”

“I’ll take a look. It could be just a bear,” said Elexoste not wishing to lose face, but his blood felt like ice in his veins. He knew that Storm was never wrong. Consciously, with the group’s eyes upon him, he moved to the gap in the rock face and disappeared. He was gone a long time and the men began to worry for him. Some were keen to go after him, but Inaki would not let them. After what seemed like an age to Inaki, he finally reappeared. He was breathless and pale. He had obviously been frightened, but had shown great courage. He gave a short report to Inaki.

“The entrance is a dog leg which opens out into a tunnel. The whole tunnel has light for the first 500 paces through a continuous fissure in the roof of the tunnel. Then it slopes downwards and the light is soon lost. I went on for another 300 paces. The tunnel continues for a long way, but I could not see so I had to come back.”

“Did you hear anything?” Inaki asked.

“No. But there are mule prints and we are going to need plenty of torches if we are to follow them.” He paused.

“Is there something else?”

“Yes.” Elexoste gave an involuntary shiver. “You can’t put your finger on it, but you can feel it.”

“What?” Inaki asked.

“A mixture of evil and death seems to hang in the air. It could be just my imagination.”

Elexoste looked at Inaki like a small child pleading to be understood.

Inaki placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think that it’s just your imagination. Storm knows what you mean. He can sense it too.”

They both looked at the wolf-dog that had remained in the same position throughout their conversation, head down and the hair on his back up on end.

Inaki tried to lighten the moment. “You know he’s the perfect companion. He can understand every word of Basque, but can’t speak a word of it!”

Elexoste gave a nervous laugh.

Inaki turned to the men.

“We had better get to work. We will need torches and lots of them.”

*

The men set to work. Around them there were plenty of pine trees. From them they cut branches and made incisions in the trunks so that the sap would run out. Once the branches had been made into torches, they wiped the sap over the ends of the torches; this would ensure that they burnt well. In the meantime, Inaki lit a fire and placed an iron pot on it with some water. To this he added some herbs. Next he took a Moslem silk shirt and cut it into strips. These he immersed in the pot and then hung them out to dry over a tree branch. He emptied the pot and put fresh water in it. He took some wild cherries and crushed them into the water. To this he added other plants. He then let the mixture reduce until there was only a brownish paste left at the bottom of the pot. He called the men around him.

“I have prepared two things that may give us an advantage in the cave. The cloths will purify the air in the cave when you breathe. You should tie them round your necks and draw them across your mouths and noses when the air becomes putrid. If the Octopus God is right, there will be rotting flesh in there.” He turned towards Arturo and Arostegi. “Only you two will carry bows, since you are our best shots. The paste in the pot is the most powerful and quick acting poison I know. Dip your arrowheads in it. Be extremely careful with the arrows. The slightest graze or cut from them will lead to instant death. There’s no antidote to the poison, so take great care and mark your targets well. When you have coated your arrows, I will bury the pot, since it cannot be used again.”

When they were all ready, Inaki went to the cave entrance and turned towards the men.

“Now,” he said, “before we enter the cave let us be clear that the main objective is to rescue the boy. Move quickly and silently. Hit them hard. Surprise will be our best weapon. Whoever finds the boy first, get him out. Stop for nothing or nobody. Just get him out and away from this place. Aguirre and I will lead, the rest of you follow us.”

He called Storm to him. He would not come. He called again, but no matter how hard he tried, the wolf-dog would not obey.

“Leave him,” Aguirre said.

“He will follow when he is ready.”

With that, the men entered the cave.

Chapter Eleven

The Fortress of Alijaferia

Umar-er-Bakr had ridden his horse at breakneck speed for ten days. Even so, he was more than four weeks late and he knew that his master, the governor of Zaragoza, would be deeply worried by his prolonged absence. Despite this, he loved his horse too much to risk him more. He would report to him immediately on his arrival. At last, he reached the valley of the river Ebro. He made for the south road. After a couple of hours, he could see the city walls ahead of him. When he had reached them, he raced around them and through the gate. The guards jumped to attention as he passed through. As he entered the busy city road leading to the citadel of Alijaferia, he scattered pedestrians and merchants in all directions. People cursed him as he knocked them over in his rush. He crossed the stone bridge over the deep moat of the citadel and alighted from the horse. Sultan was in a sweat all over. Two Moorish guards stepped forward and Umar issued some quick orders in Arabic. The first guard he told to look after Sultan and take him to the stables, where he was to be gently walked around and rubbed down. Later he was to be given an extra helping of oats. The other guard he sent forth to announce him with all haste.

As he stepped through into the citadel, Umar brushed the dust of his clothes. He had no time to bathe and change. His report was too urgent. The sounds of water reached his ears as he came to the inner courtyard. The air was cooler here as he walked round the long rectangular pools, beyond which were the private apartments of the governor. He could hear voices shouting as the announcement of his arrival spread through the fortress. Soon he saw the governor’s private secretary urgently approaching him. As they met he fell in step with Umar.

“Where on earth have you been? The governor has been worried sick,” said Amir-ben-Sur.

“It’s a long story, Amir, and not a very pretty one. Where’s the governor?”

“In his private apartments. Follow me.”

Amir led the way through a long room, along a corridor and up the stairs of the west tower to the second floor. Outside a door, they stopped and waited while the guard announced their arrival. They entered and the guard shut the door behind them. At the far end of a long room, the governor of Zaragoza sat on a cushion by a window. Taking in the view across the city, through the cedar-scented air that passed through the pierced cedar panels of the windows.

He turned. “Salaam and welcome, Umar-er-Bakr.”

Umar fell on one knee and bowed. “Thank you My Lord, may Allah bless you and be with you.”

Abdul-er-Rahman, governor of Zaragoza studied his captain for a while without speaking. He was a cautious and cunning man who thought carefully before he spoke. He had learnt early in his life that he had been born into a world full of uncertainties and dangers. He had lost two brothers in war because they had supported the wrong Emir. He had determined never to make the same mistake and now, through no fault of his own, he was in grave danger and had possibly lost his only son.

Umar had lost weight, he noticed, and had obviously ridden hard. He did not like the look of him. The man had obviously suffered great hardship. His news would not be good. He steeled himself.

“Well Umar, tell me the worst, and let us get it over with.”

“It is not all bad news, My Lord, but you should know that I lost my men in an ambush and was left for dead.”

“In the name of Allah, what are you saying? You delivered my message didn’t you? My son is all right, isn’t he?”

“Yes Lord, the message was delivered, but as for your son. I’m not sure.”

“What are you saying? Explain yourself, Umar.”

Umar went through the events of his ambush, capture and escape from the Basques, how he had delivered his master’s message to the Benedictines, that in exchange for his son, he would allow Charlemagne to take the city. Then he said, “The Basques who took me prisoner were looking for your son.”