The Moon Worshippers (17 page)

*

Abdul sat in thought. The situation was spinning further out of his control and he didn’t like it at all.

“Tell Isaac to attend us, and Sulaman,” he said to Amir, “and be quick.”

While he waited for Isaac and Sulaman, Adbul reviewed the past events in his head. He had to have it clearly in his mind before Sulaman, his chief adviser, arrived. It had all started in the year 777AD, when one of his accursed masters had gone to see Charlemagne at Paderborn. He, Adbul, was a man cursed with two masters. One was Sulaiman Yaqzan, governor of Barcelona and a man of unsuitable ambitions. The other, and more powerful, was the Emir of Cordova, and a blood relative of Adbul. Adbul was not responsible for what had occurred. He had nothing to do with it or the crisis that his family was now in. He had always been a careful man. He had taken the middle road, avoiding conflicts and troubles and yet, through no fault of his own, he now faced death, with all his family. How could Allah be so cruel? Oh, my God you are cruel, he thought.

His two masters had quarrelled. Sulaiman had rebelled against the Emir Abd al Rahman of Cordova. In normal circumstances that was bad enough, but it would have blown over in time and he would have waited for it to pass. Besides he knew that the Emir of Cordova would always be the stronger and given the choice he would be with the Emir. But he had not been given the choice. It had been taken from him. Sulaiman Yaqzan had gone to Charlemagne and in exchange for his support against the Emir had offered him Zaragoza. Sulaiman Yaqzan also offered troops if Charlemagne accepted and marched into Spain. Charlemagne had agreed and to make sure the governor complied, he had arranged, with Sulaiman’s help, for the kidnapping of his only son. His son was to be held in ransom for the city. If he refused Charlemagne the city, his son would die a most horrible death at the hands of the Sisters of the Moon. If he gave the city to Charlemagne, the Emir would kill him and all his family. He had ten daughters but only one son. Why had Allah not blessed him with ten sons and one daughter? It would have made his decision easier.

There was a knock on the door and the guard announced the arrival of Isaac and Sulaman. Adbul bade Isaac, his own personal physician, to examine Umar’s wound. He then began a deep conversation with Sulaman.

“After much thought, I have decided to resist Charlemagne and Sulaiman Yaqzan. You will prepare the city for a long siege. Make sure that the warehouses are full and that the armouries are working at full capacity.”

“My Lord,” interrupted Sulaman, “I honour and obey you, but are you willing to sacrifice your son?”

“Better to lose one son, Sulaman, than the whole family. You know what the Emir would do? Do I have any choice?”

“No, My Lord.”
Not to mention your own head
, thought Sulaman.

“Well don’t interrupt me again, we have much to do. Next, you will write a full report and when I have signed it, you will send it with our fastest messenger to the Emir of Cordova. We will entreat him to send us troops. Next, all strangers are to be cleared out of the city and all troops recalled. Now Sulaman, give me your opinion on the chances of these Basques finding my son?”

“Practically none, My Lord.”

“Let us, for the sake of argument, suppose that they do. What could we do to ease their problems in the hostile lands of Aragon?”

“One of two things,” Sulaman said thoughtfully. “Sack a town or very quietly send out a few men to find their whereabouts. Then send out a larger force to help them.”

“Why sack a town?” the governor asked.

“It would draw all the Aragonese forces.”

“Yes, but it could also create an impenetrable barrier and give Charlemagne the gift of an ally. No, I will go for your second option. Send out our best spies. Now go and do it.”

Sulaman bowed deeply and left. All this time, Isaac had been examining Umar.

“How is my brave captain, Isaac?”

“He has been treated well, perhaps by an expert, My Lord. I have removed the stitches. The wound has healed well. He owes his life to the young Basque.”

“Umar, when you have rested, washed and changed, come back and tell me more about him. Also, I would like to discuss the defence of the city with you and another matter.”

“Your wish is my command.” Umar bowed and left.

When they had all gone, Adbul resumed his surveillance of the city.

Surely, I must be the most miserable and wretched of all men,
he thought and gave a deep, long sigh.
I have condemned my own son to death
.

Three hours later, Umar was in the presence of the governor again. He was refreshed and rested and keen to discuss the defence of the city.

“Tell me, Umar, what are the chances of these Basques finding my son?”

Umar was about to reply, “none at all,” but thought carefully and replied,

“I would think very small, practically none at all, My Lord.”

“If they did, by luck or chance, what would they do with him?”

“Hold him for ransom, as is the custom.”

“They would not kill him?”

“No, My Lord.”

“Then there is hope?”

“To be honest, not much, My Lord. They are a small bunch of heathens. Lightly armed and ill-disciplined.”

“Sometimes, Umar, a few men can achieve more than 10,000. This brings me on to the next thing that I have in mind. My son may be killed, but his death will be avenged. You will hire assassins to kill Sulaiman Yaqzan.”

“As you wish, My Lord. Where do you plan the assassination to take place?”

“Sulaiman Yaqzan will be hiring mercenaries to keep his promise of troops to Charlemagne. Ours will join his and when there is an opportunity, of which there will be many, kill him.”

“I will choose the men carefully. It is a good plan, My Lord.”

“Now the defences. Will they withstand a long siege?”

“Yes, if we have the means to defend ourselves.”

“What do we need?”

“Well, the armouries are working hard to produce more weapons and arrows, but we could do with more bows and bowmen.”

Adbul-er-Rahman clapped his hands. A scribe entered the room. He dictated a number of letters and when the scribe had finished he handed them to Umar. The first was a note to the treasury. It gave him authority to draw a large amount of gold. The next was an order for more bows, arrows and arms from the armoury. The last was a letter giving him authority to conscript men.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“Yes, My Lord. The warehouses and granaries must be filled to capacity and I would suggest that any cattle and sheep that cannot be held in the city be slaughtered or moved away from here.”

“Give the orders and have it done. Good, then we will be ready for Charlemagne.”

Chapter Twelve

The Cave

It was as Elexoste had described. For the first 500 paces, they had light. As the tunnel sank downwards and into darkness they lit their torches. The tunnel fell away from them into the heart of the mountain. The air became dank and water began to seep through the rocks. Soon the floor of the tunnel was wet with rivulets of water and the darkness became deeper, until they could only see by the small pools of light produced by the torches. Visibility was only possible for a few paces ahead of them. The tunnel began to twist and turn, like a huge snake uncoiling itself towards the heart of the mountain. The tensions amongst the men seemed to grow in proportion to their progress into the depths of the earth.

A man at the back of the group gave an involuntary yell.

“What’s the matter?” Inaki whispered

“Something brushed against my leg,” he replied.

A moment later, Storm emerged into the pool of light thrown by Inaki’s torch.

“It’s all right. It’s only Storm. He has decided to join us. Pass it back. Nothing to worry about,” Inaki said.

The tunnel fell away steadily taking them deeper and deeper. They were soon lighting torches for the second time and the end of the tunnel was no nearer as far as they could tell. Stumbling over fallen rocks the men moved on. With only the light of the torches to see by, progress was slow. The dogs, sensing the tension and apprehension in the men, stayed close to their masters.

“By the Gods,” uttered one of the men, “where will it end?”

“Keep quiet. Do you want to give us away?” barked Inaki.

They kept moving. Only the drip, drip of water broke the unearthly silence, which seemed to engulf them. Suddenly, and without warning, they emerged into an enormous cavern. The whole place was filled with the light from their torches, reflected from thousands of rock crystals that covered the walls of the cavern. The men stopped in wonder. The cavern was immense. At least 300 paces long and with a roof that seemed to raise hundreds of paces above them. Huge stalactites hung from the roof and large stalagmites rose from the floor. The walls, roof and stalactites were covered in white lime and crystals, magnifying the light from their torches so that they could see, quite clearly, the enormous size of the cavern. The men stood in a group, marvelling at the majesty of this natural phenomenon. As they surveyed the scene, they could make out other tunnels in the walls of the cavern. Ahead of them, they could see a huge entrance to what appeared to be a labyrinth of caverns, some smaller than the one they were in. Others appeared, if that was possible, to be even larger. To their ears came the sound of rushing water in the distance.

“If ever I need a hiding place in my life,” said Aguirre in a low voice, “then this is where I would hide.”

“I don’t think the present occupants would welcome you,” said Arostegi.

“Oh come,” said Aguirre sarcastically, “there’s plenty of room for me and a nice set of girls.”

“That’s the trouble,” replied Arostegi, “there’s room for a bloody army down here. How in the name of the Gods are we going to find them?”

“Come on.” Inaki’s voice had a nervous edge to it. “The mule tracks lead towards the caverns. We are wasting time.”

*

Time had lost all meaning. Down in the bowels of the earth there was no day or night. They were not even sure how far they had travelled. They had moved from cavern to cavern, sometimes through great openings, at other times through tunnels. They rested when they were tired and ate when they were hungry. The sound of rushing water had increased, until it filled their heads completely. In a stupor they stumbled into a cavern with an underground river running through it. At the far end of the cavern the river plunged downwards over a waterfall. In a small enclosure made of logs and rope, at the side of the cavern, stood three mules. As Inaki saw them, his heart seemed to leap into his mouth.

“Well, well,” Arient said, “our four legged friends that have led us true so far.”

Inaki moved forward. The rest stayed behind, as if stuck to the very rock of the mountain. He moved to the edge of the waterfall and looked down. The water poured over the edge in ribbons of white, striking into a dark pool many paces below. As the water fell into the pool, bands of ripples spread towards its edges like squirming snakes. At the far end of the pool was a cavern and he could see light coming from inside. As he watched, a shadow appeared from the cavern and began to caste a long black image over the water. Gradually it grew in length, until finally a figure holding a pot appeared in the mouth of the cavern. The light reflected off the surface of the water like golden honey, cut by the image. The figure, covered by a long black hooded cloak, moved to the edge of the pool and sank the pot into the water. Inaki moved slowly and cautiously into the shadows behind him, keeping the figure firmly in sight until he was safely out of view. To his left a tunnel sank downwards, obviously leading down to the cavern and pool.

Storm was scenting the air from the tunnel and admitted a low growl. Inaki could smell the air too. It smelt of decay; for death was in the air and unspeakable evil. He turned quickly and returned to the men.

“This is it,” he said. “We go down that tunnel and we are there. You will need to pull the cloths around your faces. There’s a terrible smell in the tunnel. I need two of you to lead. If the dogs lead we lose the element of surprise. Aguirre and I need to hold back with the dogs.”

The men looked at each other. No one spoke.

“Come on.” Inaki was becoming irritated. “Who will lead? We can’t stand about discussing it or we will be discovered.”

To his surprise, Zaraoat and Urkidit, the two brothers who seldom spoke, volunteered.

“We will lead,” said Zaraoat in a low voice. Urkidit nodded.

“Right,” said Inaki, “leave everything you don’t need here. Remember hit them hard and get the boy out. No matter what you hear or what you see, kill them or be killed.”

They prepared in silence, each man wrapped in his own thoughts. When they were ready, Inaki gave some final words of warning.

“You will probably see images and things that you have never seen before. There will be unspeakable horror down there. You must keep calm and focused on our task. At all times keep the cloths over your faces. They will help you overcome the stench and the herbs in which they are impregnated will keep your minds clear. Arturo and Arostegi will stay in the rear. You will take up positions at the tunnel exit and cover our retreat from the cavern. You will shoot your poisoned arrows at anything that tries to follow us and at any targets you can hit within the cavern when we are in. May the Gods bless us.”