The Moon Worshippers (26 page)

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Authors: Aitor Echevarria

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BOOK: The Moon Worshippers
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Several days later the two men met again. Alcuin began the conversation by asking a question.

“Are you any the wiser after reading the books?”

“More confused than ever I would say,” Angel replied.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. Let me see if I can clarify and explain things for you.”

“I would be grateful if you would.”

“I asked you to read Plato so that you could understand the nature of democracy and the dangerousness of the ideas.”

“That part I understood,” said Angel, not wishing to look like a complete fool.

“That’s because that was the easy part.
The Book of Splendour
was more difficult?” Alcuin said.

“No, but I fail to see the connection.”

Alcuin smiled. “The connection is mysticism. Hellenistic astral mysticism and a theosophical system that draws on the theories of a second century Rabbi called Simeon bar Yohal. There are connections between what the pagan believes and that of the Jews. What we have in Inaki and Isaac are two people pooling their knowledge, Inaki’s knowledge of the esoteric world of nature and Isaac’s divine world, with its hidden connections with the world of creation. They are both flyers. They can leave their earthly body and move in the astral plane. Can you imagine such power?”

Angel was dumbfounded. After a while, when he had composed himself, he said: “This is heresy, Alcuin.”

“Did not Christ raise the dead?”

“That’s different.”

“Do you not believe that the saints move in the celestial plane?”

“Yes, but this is the work of the Devil.”

“Have you not seen our most holy monks levitate their spiritual souls when in deepest prayer? Do you not believe in angels? Do you not believe in miracles? So what’s so different?”

“These men are not Christians; therefore they cannot be in grace and have such powers.”

“Are you so arrogant as to think that we are the sole keepers of knowledge and spiritual powers?”

“No, not if you put it like that!” Angel said humbly.

“In my homeland of England there were, at one time, pagan priests called Druids. They say that the powers they possessed were not so different from these two men.”

“Do you believe in such things?”

“There is much that we do not understand in this world. The more I read and learn, the longer I live, the more I realise how little we really know. To keep the mind open and alert, that’s what is important. We must be forever on our guard.”

“What are we going to do, Alcuin?”

“Nothing, for the moment. This is a battle of faiths. You are going to gain as much information as you can and pass it on to me.”

“Very well.”

“One other thing. Have you made a copy of your report?”

Angel hesitated before answering.

“The report I have given you is unique.”

Alcuin looked at him steadily.
He has answered cleverly
, he thought,
but it is not the whole truth. He had avoided the whole truth without telling a lie. Clever man, this Angel and as slippery as an eel.
He liked that, for much would be expected from him.

“Another thing, before you go,” said Alcuin, “how did Zumalacarrequi come to be poisoned?”

“We don’t rightly know other than he had an encounter with the High Priestess of the Sisters of the Moon and embraced her.”

“Another Eve in the form of a serpent?” Alcuin said.

“I don’t know,” replied Angel.

“See if you can find out more, Angel.”

“I will do my best.”

“And now for your mission, Angel. It is the wish of His Holiness that all the Basques are brought the word of God. By this means we will not only save their souls but more importantly curb their warlike tendencies. I will write you a letter and you will go to the court of Inigo Aritza and ask him to help you establish a monastery of Benedictines in Navarra. From there, you are to send missionaries into the rest of the Basque provinces and see to their conversion into the Holy Roman Church.”

“Much has been done already but I will see to it that all are brought into God’s grace,” Angel said.

“I know you will, Angel. Now go with God.”

Angel hesitated, and said: “Before I go, can I ask you one last question, My Lord Alcuin?”

“What is it, Angel?”

“Why did Charlemagne send for me personally?”

“Don’t you know, Angel?”

“No.”

“Charlemagne can hardly read and he cannot write. He had to hear it from you, the horse’s mouth so to speak. He trusts very few people.”

He then added an after thought.

“Never, never, underestimate him. His memory is outstanding, his intelligence is great and he remembers everything that is said to him. His military mind is the best in the world.”

Angel nodded and was about to leave when he turned slightly and said over his left shoulder: “By the way Alcuin, was there not a Roman Senator very much like these Basque captains? As I recall the story, he was ploughing his fields when a deputation came to tell him that he had been elected dictator of Rome, so that he could raise and lead a Roman army against a terrible enemy. And did he not defeat that enemy, disband the army and returned to his farm a humble man without title, denouncing and rejecting the title of dictator and thereby the most powerful position in all Rome?”

“Yes, Angel you are right. The Roman’s name was Cincinnatus, as you well know. Are you suggesting that this makes the Basques less dangerous by making this comparison?”

“Oh, no! It was just a thought,” he said with a wide and mischievous smile.

He was about to leave, when Alcuin said, “I have distressing reports that Norsemen are in Britannia burning and destroying churches and monasteries. I fear that unless we have Charlemagne to protect us and spread the faith, we and our Church will perish. Remember that we have many enemies, Angel. Charlemagne is our protector.”

“I meant no offence, My Lord.”

“I know, Angel, but we must be careful. We live in uncertain and turbulent times. One other thing, the Pope and many of us, believe that Heaven sent us Charlemagne.”

“That I do believe, for it was the Basques’ intention to kill Charlemagne and I believe that they would have succeeded if God had not sent down his angels to protect him.”

With those words echoing in Alcuin’s mind, Angel left. Alcuin sat in thought. He was pleased with himself. He had Angel. Einhard would not have him now. At least for some years he would be employed in work directed by him. Later that day, Charlemagne came to see him, accompanied by his latest concubine. He rose as Charlemagne entered his room. He bowed deeply to the king and waited for the king to tell him why he had come to see him.

“I have work for that Basque Abbot,” said Charlemagne.

Alcuin heart sank.

Chapter Eighteen

Itxarkundia. The Awakening

Inaki had been outside his house playing with his new baby son, when the news came that Arostegi, the wounded warrior he had left behind with the Moors, was coming home. There was much excitement as he arrived with a stranger of startling appearance. The news had spread like wildfire and so Inaki was not surprised to be told that Arotegi was entering the village with the stranger at his side. Inaki took his son in his arms and went to meet them. Storm followed a little behind them. He found Arostegi and Isaac, the Jew, sat by the oak tree. A number of people had gathered round them and Arostegi sported a black silk, eye patch over one eye. Next to him was Isaac in a robe of green silk, embroidered with gold thread. Arostegi stood and embraced Inaki.

“It’s good to see you again,” said Inaki.

“It’s good to be home!” exclaimed Arostegi.

“Come,” said Inaki. “You must be hungry after your journey and have much to tell.”

He led them to his house, with half the village following, and when they had eaten he asked: “How did they treat you in Zaragoza?”

“Extremely well. You are quite a hero, you know,” replied Arostegi.

“Oh, why is that?”

“You saved My Lord’s son,” interjected Isaac, “and I have gifts for you.”

Isaac reached down and brought up a bundle which he placed on the table. He untied the bundle and exposed three items.

“This sword of the finest iron is for you.” He handed it to Inaki. Next he gave him a bag of silver and gold coins. Finally, he held up a collar, studded in fabulous jewels.

“This is for Cerberus,” Isaac said.

“Who in the name of the Gods is Cerberus?” asked Inaki.

“Why your dog, of course,” replied Isaac.

“My dog is called Storm. Why do you call him Cerberus?”

Isaac chuckled, “Because that is who the Sisters of the Moon thought he was.”

“Explain!” Inaki demanded, with some irritation.

“Before Isaac begins. It’s a long story,” Arostegi said. “Have you some wine?”

“Yes, my friend.” He called his wife Olatz and asked for wine. “Now Isaac, if you will be so kind?”

Isaac explained how the Moors had captured some of the Sisters of the Moon, after Inaki had returned to the Basque country with his Moorish escort. Under torture they had revealed that in the battle of the caverns they had taken Storm to be Cerberus, an animal of both Greek and Roman mythology in whom they believed.

“To the Sisters, Cerberus is the guardian of the lower world, and caves and caverns are the entrances to that lower world where the spirits of the dead go. Cerberus is the guardian and watchdog of the entrance for the Gods. You are able to pacify him with honey cakes, but they didn’t have any,” Isaac continued.

“Much good it would have done them,” Inaki grinned.

“Faced by a dog that they believed they could not kill, they were thrown into confusion. The confusion was added to, because he seemed to be in two places at the same time. For what Arostegi tells me, he saved your life, Inaki, your men and the boy.”

“Not for the first time and the reason they thought he was in two places at the same time was because there were two dogs. The other was Roka his son, who looks exactly like his father, Storm,” Inaki replied.

“That is why, My Lord wishes to honour Storm with this collar of jewels.”

Inaki was touched, but he knew that Storm would never allow anything around his neck. He could only thank the Jew and hoped that he would never ask to see Storm wear it.

Over the coming days he and Patxi learnt much from the Jew, and Isaac from them. There was an open and frank exchange of information. They had a common interest in healing and each had this own special knowledge of plants and herbs. As they talked it became clear to all of them that their religious beliefs, although different, had similarities. Inaki found that Isaac had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. The man pounded him with questions, but he found that he learnt as much as he gave and a true friendship had developed between them. The days grew into weeks and Isaac did not seem to be in any hurry to return to Zaragoza.

One night at supper he made a request.

“I have noticed that you and Patxi spend a long time in the stone round hut. Do you go there to talk to your spirits and Gods?”

“Yes,” Inaki replied.

“I would like to join you,” Isaac said, simply.

“That’s not possible. We do not wish to offend you, but it would be too dangerous.” The words had left Inaki’s mouth before he could retract them.

“Ah,” said Isaac, “so it is more than mere talking?”

Inaki thought quickly. “It is part of our religion. Therefore since you are an unbeliever, I must decline your request. I’m sorry Isaac.”

Isaac smiled. “Would part of your ceremonies entail the releasing of the spirit from the body?”

“Yes,” Inaki said with more than just a hint of caution in his voice.

“I can do that too, Inaki. So you see, it would be bad manners not to let me accompany you.”

“Isaac, I don’t know if you can. But even if you could it’s the return that is dangerous. For some even impossible. You are too good a friend for me to even risk it with you,” Inaki had a condescending smile on his face.

“Will you do me the honour of letting me take my own risks, Inaki?” Isaac said.

Inaki was totally flustered. “Let me think on it.” He hoped that Isaac would forget the whole idea.

“Of course. Can I ask you, one more thing?” asked Isaac cheerily. “Why are your homes built so far apart? Why do your people have no cities with walls and towers to protect them?” Isaac had expertly changed the subject.

“That’s two questions,” Inaki said, but he was glad that Isaac had changed the subject and so he answered.

“We have some cities with walls and towers, but only a few which we inherited from the Romans or the Visigoths. There are good reasons why we do not favour them.”

“And the reasons are?” prompted Isaac gently.

“Many and complex. But basically they all stem from our independent spirit and our love of freedom, and the respect we have for individual liberty. We have a favourite saying or motto which is, ‘we will be neither slave nor tyrant.’ So you see if we all lived in cities, someone would want to rule that city.”

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