The Moon Worshippers (29 page)

Inaki was too tired to argue. Zabala covered his face in ointment and rubbed his hands and feet to bring back the feeling into his limbs. Inaki fell into a deep slumber.

Some days later, after a much needed rest and good food, he was fully recovered. In the meantime, Zabala had been making inquiries in the next village. The information he had was sketchy and next to useless. Rumours had reached Zumalacarrequi that Charlemagne was on the move again. He had gone to verify the truth of the rumours, but in which direction or where no one knew.

“What’s your best guess?” asked Inaki.

“How the devil should I know?” said a laughing Zabala. Then he added. “Either east or south.”

Inaki thought for a while.
East is too dangerous. It would take him into northern France. He would stick to the mountains where he would feel safe. He would go south.

“Are you still set on finding him, Inaki?”

“Yes,” replied Inaki.

“Then I will go with you, since you don’t know these mountains. We will need protection and that means men and they will need paying.”

“How many?” asked Inaki.

“At least ten,” said Zabala. “How will you pay them?”

Inaki thought for a moment. He had coins but knew he would need them for his return journey. “Will you be coming with your sheep and men to trade in the summer?”

“Yes,” said Zabala.

“Then I promise each of your men two large jars of the finest whale oil, when you come,” said Inaki.

“That is a prize they will fight for!” We will take ten of my men. If we are very lucky we will pick up his trail. Can you pay for supplies?”

“Yes, I only hope that we are on time, Zabala, and thank you for your help.”

Chapter Twenty

The High Priestess of the Moon

Early on a bright winter’s morning the small party of Basque warriors headed for Caulerets, a town in the province of Basse Navarre, in the Hautes Pyrenees. With them they had two pottoka ponies with several days’ supply of food. The ten men of Zabala’s village were fully armed. Even though in the mountains they were safe from the Franks, there was always the danger of brigands. Winter in these mountains would keep some of their enemies at bay, but there was always the risk of an attack by wolves or a scavenging party of men. The mood of the party was sombre and purposeful. These were determined men and well used to the hardships the journey would entail. It took them several days to reach Caulerets. Zumalacarrequi had not been seen or heard of. After resting and replenishing their supplies they pressed on south for days but still there was no news of Zumalacarrequi. He seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. The men were beginning to get tired of searching and the further they wandered away from their homes the more restless they became.

Talk of abandoning the search was becoming more and more open and the complaints became endless. One night Zabala said to Inaki:

“The men are tired of the cold and the searching. We will have to turn for home.” Inaki’s face turned red. He exploded with anger. “What sort of men have you brought with you, that a little cold turns them into children?”

Inaki’s words stung Zabala. His face turned as white as the snow. He was having difficulty controlling himself. He clenched his fists and with remarkable composure answered: “These men fought at Roncesvalles. I didn’t hear you complain then. They have travelled with you through the worst snow in many winters and they have families to look after and this is the way you show your gratitude.”

Inaki looked at his feet. “I know, I know, Zabala. I can do nothing if they want to turn back, but I must go on.”

“Why is it so important that you find Zumalacarrequi?”

“Oh, for many reasons. If he has news of Charlemagne then we must get it back to our people. It will be harder to stop him a second time and we will need all the warning we can get. It was his plan that stopped him the first time. He is probably our best military mind. We can’t afford to lose him. I know and feel that his life is in danger.”

“How do you know it is?”

“It would take too long to explain, but believe me, it is.”

“I have no doubt it is, if you say so, but my men will take some persuading.”

Inaki smiled. “Will they not go on a little longer for the sake of one of their countrymen?”

“No,” said Zabala. “They are tired and miss their families. However, there is a slim chance that if you set a very short time limit to this search, they might be pushed a little further. I urge you to set one, Inaki, and I will see what I can do.”

Inaki thought hard. “Will they come with us as far as Arnequy?”

“I don’t know, but I will ask them.”

Zabala managed, somehow, to get half the men to agree. They would go as far as Arnequy and then turn back. The rest turned for home. The few that remained set off through the snow. Six days later they reached the village and Inaki had his first piece of luck. Zumalacarrequi had been there, but he had moved on to Archurieta. Archurieta was a day’s march from Arnequy. Reluctantly, the men agreed to go there. At Archurieta they learnt that Zumalacarrequi had been there some time ago, and had moved on. The men would go no further.

That night Inaki and Zabala had a talk.

“I’m sure he is around here somewhere,” said Inaki. “I can feel it. But what would he want here, Zabala?”

“We’re only a day’s march from Roncesvalles,” said Zabala. “There’s a lot of movement through that pass between France and Spain. Most of it passes through this village.”

“He must have something of importance here then.”

“Yes, but what?” said Zabala.

“See if you and your men can find out who passes through the village regularly, Zabala. It may give us a clue as to what Zumalacarrequi was interested in and tell them to use discretion. There maybe others watching what we do.”

The next day Zabala had some news.

“At this time, there are few travellers,” he said. “The only regular visitors are the monks from the monastery near Roncesvalles.”

“What sort of monks?” asked Inaki.

“Black Monks, the Benedictines,” Zabala replied.

“Charlemagne’s spies and messengers,” Inaki exclaimed. “There’s our answer. Zumalacarrequi is near Roncesvalles.”

“One thing more. Some women have been through here. Going south they were. Some sort of religious sect. Going to a new home, they say. The people here didn’t much like them.”

Inaki went pale. “The Sisters,” he whispered. “We are too late, Zabala.” Inaki’s eyes were full of tears. Thoughts were chasing themselves through his mind. That evil, contemptible combination had surfaced again. The Black Monks and the Sisters. Would he never be rid of them? Had he been drawn into a trap? Was the spirit of Isaac seeking his death? It blamed him for Isaac: It would kill him. His mind was in turmoil. He felt the despair of a drowning man.

“You can’t be sure. There is always hope,” said Zabala, not knowing what was going through Inaki’s mind, only that he appeared in deep distress.

Inaki made an enormous effort to gain control of himself, but he couldn’t. He was gripped by fear. He felt guilty for Isaac’s death. He felt alone, surrounded by dark and evil forces. He had nowhere to hide. The snow made things worse and added to his fear and troubled mind. It did not offer any cover where he could hide. He was gripped by panic and began to shake uncontrollably. Demons chased each other through his head. Zabala thought he was cold and threw another log on the fire.

Aize, sensing her master’s discomfort, pushed her large head under his arm and rested it on his knee. Inaki’s arm laid limply on it. Gradually that simple action brought Inaki to his senses. He looked down at the enormously imposing head and thought,
she has sensed my troubled thoughts and she has let me know that she will protect me.
He looked at her jaws and thought that nothing could escape. The speed and stealth was amazing in a dog her size and if anything she was even more cunning in attack than Storm had been. The thought brought him comfort and relief. Aize could take care of the Sisters on her own. Was he a child? Where there is a problem therein lies the solution. He even began to have good thoughts about the snow.
You can’t move an army in snow and horses are useless in it. You can see your enemy coming and track him in it. What are you giving yourself a fright for, fool?
The panic was over. He had a final thought for good measure:
heavily-armed men can’t chase you up mountains
. His confidence and humour restored, Inaki gave Zabala an inane smile.

“Let’s go and find him.”

*

Archurieta was a typical Pyrenean Basque village of the area. The houses contained whole families and the large buildings were made up of a stone ground floor in which the animals were kept. The rest of the building was of wood. Above the square ground floor were the living quarters; these were reached by stone stairs, leading to a balcony that went across the front of the building. Inside the second floor was a large room with an enormous fireplace. Off this room were smaller bedrooms and storerooms. The roofs were made of large oak timbers, covered by sods of growing grass. All the ten houses of the village were surrounded by a stockade and outside the stockade there was a pasture. Outside the houses were a number of haysacks, built round a central pole. The houses provided a warm secure home in winter and were light and airy in summer. The animals therein were safe and well guarded and provided a constant supply of food. Each village was self-sufficient and could defend itself against wild animals and intruders. Amongst the Basques there was a tradition of hospitality and the burden of quartering the men had been shared amongst the villagers who were all inter-related. Inaki and Zabala went from house to house gathering the men. A normal house would contain a husband and wife and children. Many households had grandparents living with them. Others contained unmarried uncles and aunts. Their impenetrable language and close-knit communities meant that each Basque could be identified with a place or village as soon as he or she gave their name and would be made welcome wherever they travelled within the country.

As they moved around the village the men bought food for their journey and even extra clothing. At one house a man asked where they were going.

Inaki told him that they were looking for a friend. They thought he would be near the Roncesvalles pass.

“If that’s the case,” said the man, “you will probably find him in the hut we use in summer, when we take the sheep up to the high pastures.”

“Is it near the monastery?” asked Inaki.

“Overlooks it across the valley and the pass,” the man said.

“Can you give us directions?” asked Zabala.

“Can’t miss it,” the man said. “See that mountain in front of you. It’s near the summit, on a small plateau, on this side. It will take you about a day to reach it. If the weather holds off.”

They set off. It was turning dark and snowing before they reached the hut which was a stone building with a turf roof. It was just large enough for four men. Aize warned Inaki that someone was in the hut. Inaki entered the hut, sword drawn. Inside they found Zumalacarrequi. He was laid on a small pallet covered by a sheepskin. A small fire burned in the fireplace. He was gravely ill. Beside him on the ground there knelt a girl dressed all in black, with silver jewellery around her neck and arms. She looked like a vulture waiting for its meal. She was comely to look at and smiled as Inaki entered. Aize’s hair stood on end and she gave a deep long growl. She would not approach or move but continued to growl. Inaki looked at the girl and recognised her instantly as the High Priestess of the Sisters. He moved towards her and she stood up. From the corner of his eye he caught the glimmer of metal. He extended his sword and as she lunged towards him, dagger held low in her right hand, he plunged his sword into her. He stood back and let go of the sword. She fell forward to the floor, with a look of surprise on her face. The blade pushed through her body as she hit the ground. The men came in behind him, shocked by what he had done and stood around the body. They looked at Inaki as if to say, “what on earth have you done?”

Inaki spoke. “No-one is to touch the body. Keep away from it.” The men silently did as they were bid.

He moved to Zumalacarrequi and quickly got to work, building up the fire and preparing some broth. When Zumalacarrequi had recovered enough to talk he had a strange tale to tell. As he talked in a weak voice, Inaki examined his hands and feet. Zumalacarrequi thought the numbness was due to the cold, but Inaki knew better. Zumalacarrequi had heard news from the shepherds of Navarra that Charlemagne planned a return and the news had led him to Roncesvalles. He had waited in the hut for several weeks and nothing had happened. He had hoped to question travellers, moving from France to Spain and passing through Roncesvalles, but none had come. Then a few days ago, he spotted the Sisters coming out of the pass. They had camped once they had left the pass. He had gone down behind them to get closer and see what they were up to.

Between the Sisters and the village rose a forest, from which the village gathered timber for their fires. Zumalacarrequi had taken shelter in the forest and watched. Soon a small group of three left the main body of Sisters and made for the monastery. After they had visited it, Zumalacarrequi had seized his chance and followed them. About 3,000 paces from the monastery he had confronted the three. He was immediately attacked and had killed two. The third was young girl who he could not bring himself to kill, but had taken prisoner. He had brought her back to the hut in order to question her. She had not resisted and answered all his questions as if it did not matter: as if she had some strange insight into the future. She had confirmed that Charlemagne was returning: not in the north, but in the south. What was more, a force was coming with him to destroy the Sisters, so they were moving to the north countries. The day before Inaki and the men had arrived he had started to feel very ill and he was certain the girl was about to kill him, but could do nothing to prevent her. His strength had ebbed away.