The Moon Worshippers

by Aitor Echevarria

  “You disapprove?”

  “It is not our way. If you had any experience of battle, or knowledge of warfare, you would know that there is no time for conferences. A true leader orders and his men obey without question.”

  Inaki bit his tongue. The man’s arrogance was unbelievable. Instead, he said: “Well I’ve a surprise for you. I’m going to confer with you. What is more, I’m going to listen to your opinion.”

  In a few short sentences, he explained his plan and Umar’s part in it. Umar thought for a moment and said, “Your plan is good, but it has one serious fault. To pass for a Moor you must pray like a Moor. You must be instructed in our religion.”

  “Teach me. I’m a quick learner.”

  “You are an unbeliever. You are unclean. It is forbidden.” Umar turned away and tended to his horse. The conversation was over. Inaki stood for a few moments in shock. Then his temper rose.

  “You would risk the life of a boy because of your religious beliefs?” he said vehemently.

  “It is the will of Allah.”

  Inaki turned away in disgust and returned to his men. They sat in silence as he related Umar’s words.

  “What do we do now?” Arturo asked.

  Inaki did not know what to say. The plan, as far as he could see, had been too deeply jeopardised by Umar’s attitude.

  “I think we should go into the village,” Aguirre said, thinking aloud.

  What, are you mad?” Inaki could not believe his ears.

  Aguirre spoke gently, as if he was explaining something to a small child.

  “Inaki,” he said, “you have lived in a village. How long do you think a go-between could live in a village undetected? It couldn’t happen. You cannot keep a secret in a village. No, the whole village would have to be involved. If I am right we will find the answer we seek in the village, but I would not hold my breath. I don’t think we will find anything in the village, at least not what we have been led to believe.”

  “What do you mean?” Inaki said astounded.

  “I think the Moor was prepared to die, rather than reveal all the information he had. Has it not occurred to you that he could not let the boy fall into our hands?”

  “If you’re right, where does that leave us? With nothing? Anyway you’ve never liked the man,” Inaki spoke desperately, his heart sinking.

  “Not quite,” Aguirre smiled. “The Moor had to gain time. He told us enough of the truth to keep him alive. He had to make his tale believable in order to stay alive and complete his mission.”

  “What is the truth?” Inaki was totally bewildered now, and so were most of the men.

  “Well, I think the part about the Benedictines is true.”

  “Where does that leave us?” Inaki repeated the question more in desperation than in the belief that there was any possible answer.

  “In a better position than you might think.”

  “Go on.” Inaki began to feel a glimmer of hope.

  “I think that they are and have always been the go-betweens. The rest of the story was just to gain time.”

  The men began to murmur amongst themselves. Inaki sat deep in thought. One of the men spoke with the consent of the others.

  “We agree with Aguirre, we should go into the village.”

  “Not so fast,” said Aguirre, “first we must let the Moor escape.”

  “Oh! That’s good,” said Inaki with feeling, “first we throw away a perfectly good plan, now we let the Moor escape. Whatever next?”

  Aguirre looked at Inaki and calmly smiled. Inaki recognised the look. He had often seen it when Aguirre had been tutoring him and he had found something particularly difficult to do or understand. Inaki pulled himself together.

  “I’m sorry, Aguirre, please go on.”

  “Well, the way I see it is this,” Aguirre said, “somewhere close by, there must be some monks. If we pretend to revert to our original plan and watch the village, the Moor will think that he has fooled us. To make his escape easier we will split into small groups, on the pretence that we need to watch all the approaches to the village. Once he escapes two of us will track him. The others will go into the village and make general enquiries about the best route into France. We must try and gain information about the monks, but it must be done without raising suspicion. We will make out that we are making our way to France in order to improve our stock, in Navarra, of sheep. That way we double our chances of locating them. After that it’s a question of discovering how the monks communicate with the Sisters and their location.”

  “Sounds simple,” Inaki said, sarcastically.

  “It will not be easy and there is a lot that can go wrong, as you well know Inaki.” The rebuke was friendly.

  “Yes,” Inaki said with a smile. “I think it’s time for a bit of acting.”

  With that, the men rose, looking suitably depressed. Inaki gave his orders and the men split into small groups. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Umar was taking a keen interest. For three days they watched the village. Inaki became more and more impatient. Umar remained with the two men that had been left to guard him. They had orders to give him plenty of space, without making it too obvious. He had shown no sign of making a move. Time was passing rapidly. It would take them at least ten days to return to the Basque country and there was only fourteen days left before Charlemagne’s arrival at Zaragoza. The waiting became unbearable. Inaki felt, not for the first time, that he was living in a heartbreakingly cruel world of unspeakable disorder. He surveyed the land around him. It was beautiful. Behind and to the right and left of him were three huge mountains, their peaks covered in snow. It gave him a feeling of security; he felt at home in these mountains. After all, they where an extension of his beloved homeland. From where he sat, he could see the village comprised of a group of twenty conical stone huts and extending out from the village, in all directions, walled hay fields. Beyond the village and at the bottom of the mountain, a valley was extending east and westwards. A fast flowing river ran through the valley. At the other side, dense pine forests covered the mountains as far as the snow line. Good cover, thought Inaki, all around with plenty of wild game.

  Finally, on the morning of the fourth day, the guards found Inaki. The Moor had slipped away that night. Inaki told one of the men to find their comrades and go into the village. He, with the other man, would track the Moor and meet them in the valley. Inaki moved quickly to where the guards had been camped. From his bag he took the Moor’s shirt and placed it over Storm’s nose.

  “Seek,” he ordered Storm.

  The dog did not hesitate, moving swiftly down the slopes, towards the valley. The horse had found the descent difficult and there were many signs where it had slipped on the stony mountainside. Moving in the darkness, horse and man had fallen several times and the tracking was easy. Once in the valley the Moor had mounted and the tracking had become more difficult. He was obviously aware that he would be pursued and took precautions to avoid leaving a trail. Man and horse had entered the river. The river was wide but not very deep. It took Inaki most of the morning to discover which way he had gone. At first he went down stream, but after searching both banks for several hours, neither he nor his comrade could find any signs of the horse. Storm and Inaki retraced their steps and returned to the place where the horse and rider had entered the stream. They moved upstream. Each man covered a bank. It was now mid-afternoon and still there were no signs. Inaki decide to give up and wait for his men. Perhaps with extra help he would be more successful. He sat down on a fallen tree and thought. What if Aguirre had been wrong? His mood became very black. He was totally despondent. He felt that he had failed. He believed that the loss of his friends had been for nought. His young comrade, a Basque called Elexoste, recognised his mood.

  He spoke: “Don’t worry. When the others arrive, we will find the Moor. Have no fear.”

  Inaki did not reply. He was too depressed to say anything meaningful
.

  Towards late afternoon, Aguirre and the rest of the men could be seen coming down river. They had a stranger with them. When they reached Inaki, Aguirre said to him, “You need to pay this man. We have brought two fine rams and six ewes.”

  Inaki handed Aguirre the bag of money without a word. Aguirre took some silver coins and handed them to the man. He thanked Aguirre with a smile, bade them farewell and made his way back to the village.

  “Robbing bastard,” Aguirre said under his breath.

  “We’ve lost the Moor,” Elexoste said to Aguirre.

  “Doesn’t matter,” replied Aguirre, “we know where he’s going.”

  Inaki stood with his mouth open, the relief written all over his face.

  “How?”

  Aguirre explained briefly how they had entered the village. Their story had been completely accepted, although it had cost them, since the villagers would not agree that the sheep in France were better than theirs. Rather than argue the point, Aguirre agreed to buy some stock. What was more important was that they had learnt that there was a Benedictine monastery further up the valley. They had also learnt the route the Moor would, in all probability, take back to Zaragoza. Aguirre guessed that the Moor would hide until dark, before entering the monastery. He would be somewhere up ahead. He suggested that they move up the mountainside, using the pine forest as cover, until they found a place to hide above the monastery. It would be dark soon, so they needed to move quickly.

  At about midnight they came upon the monastery below them. They had come to the edge of the pine forest. Inaki was beside himself. The journey had taken longer than they had thought. The monastery was a large square building, with high walls of block stone. It had a gate set in a tower at the west wall. It sat on a hill in a good defensible position. Light could be seen at some of the windows, which were set high in the walls. The centre of the square formed a courtyard. This was filled with darkness. The inside of the outside walls had a building attached to them, so that the walls enclosed and protected the whole of the living quarters. Apart from the few lights in some upper windows, the whole building was in darkness.

  “They have a visitor; otherwise the monastery would be in total darkness,” Aguirre whispered.

  “What shall we do?” replied Inaki.

  “Wait. It would be a good idea to move the men into the forest where they could light a fire, rest and eat. I’ll stay here and watch.”

  “I will stay with you. There’s no way I can sleep tonight,” said Inaki.

  The men moved back into the pine forest. Deep inside the forest they found a small clearing and made a fire. It had been a long and hard day. Soon the men were all fast asleep wrapped in their cloaks. Inaki had remained with Aguirre. Just before dawn Inaki received a sharp jab in the ribs. He had dozed off and Aguirre had let fall asleep. Aguirre pointed below.

  “Look!”

  In the courtyard of the monastery, torches could be seen moving about. The flickering lights moved towards the gate. Out of the darkness of the gate tower, a rider emerged and rode off down the valley.

  “Shouldn’t we stop him?”

  “What would that achieve?” replied Aguirre.

  “If he gets back, the governor will open the gates. Won’t he?”

  “There’s nothing we can do about that. So there’s no point in killing the Moor, Inaki.”

  Inaki said nothing for some moments. Then after a while he turned to Aguirre. He spoke in a voice full of desperation.

  “I think that we have run out of time. We can’t get back in time to warn our brothers now.”

  “Inaki, don’t be so down-hearted. Our brothers will be fully aware of Charlemagne’s intentions by now. A force of his size cannot approach without drawing attention. Don’t worry. They will know.”

  “Do you think we should go back?”

  “No. We could still turn events with a bit of luck. Eleven men aren’t going to make much difference in the battle to come, but we could do some good here. If only we could find the Moorish boy.”

  “I’ll use the mushrooms.”

  “No, Inaki, it’s far too dangerous and besides you’re no use to anybody for three days after you use them. We have to be patient and watch. The monks will lead us to the boy.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No. Nothing is certain, but we’ve come a long way and it would be a pity to go home with nothing.”

  “So, we just sit and wait?”

  “It’s hard, I know. But it’s our best chance and we will do all men a great service if we can destroy the Sisters of the Moon. The Moorish boy would be a bonus. Have you thought about killing women? Will you be able to do it?”

  “Will it come to that?” Inaki said thoughtfully.

  “It will.”

  With that the two men fell silent, each with his own private thoughts. Dawn had broken and the monks in the monastery began to stir. Slowly, groups of them would emerge to take up their various daily tasks. Some went into the nearby fields to tend the land; others drove sheep and goats into the pastures. For two days they watched the daily routines of the monks. Sometimes a little excitement was generated amongst the watchers when a visitor arrived or monks left on journeys. But on the whole it proved to be a false alarm. The routines grew monotonous. The watchers became restless. A little hunting relieved their growing boredom and then on the third day, while Arturo and Inaki had the watch, something happened that drew Arturo’s attention. It was late in the afternoon when they spotted three mules arriving at the monastery. What drew their attention was that they were unaccompanied and tied together. As far as they could tell they carried nothing, but were rigged for cargo. The mules came from behind them and made directly for the monastery. A monk collected them at the gate and led them inside.

  “Strange,” Inaki said, giving voice to his thoughts.

  Suddenly, Arturo could hardly contain himself. “I’ve seen something like this before in the mountains south of Avala. Shepherds will send mules that have been trained to follow the most inaccessible mountain paths to carry supplies back and forth to their masters in the mountains. They travel along paths that men would find difficult to negotiate, if not impossible. They carry supplies and that allows their masters to remain with their flocks without leaving them for food.”

  Inaki jumped to his feet.

  “Get the men.”

  Arturo did not have to be told twice. He left in all haste and within no time at all had returned with the men. As the men sat out of view, watching the monastery intently, Arturo explained what they had witnessed. As the story unfolded, Aguirre smiled.

  “The perfect go-betweens,” he said. “Dumb, reliable and can’t be questioned. What a stroke of genius. You have to admire the cunning of these monks.”

  For the rest of the afternoon the men sat watching, hardly able to contain their excitement. After so many days, action at last! The evening drew on and soon it was dark. Some of the men grew restless. What if they had been wrong? Doubts began to enter their minds.

  “What if they leave in the dark? We will never see them,” said one.

  “I think the mules are strays.” Some of the men agreed with Arient, who was one of the older men.

  “I think that they are being rested, fed and watered. They have probably come a long way.” Arturo volunteered the information.

  “God forbid,” said another man. “We have little time left. If we end up following these mules all over the mountains, we’ve had it.”

  “Look!” Inaki said taking control. “We will move under cover of darkness, behind the monastery. You men can get some rest. Storm and I will stand guard. If the mules are sent out they will have to pass us.”

  This seemed to calm the men and they moved swiftly to their new position. Few managed to sleep that night and just before dawn the whole group was awake and alert. Suddenly, to the right of them, out of the darkness, the mules appeared. Storm heard them first and beg
an to growl. Inaki clapped both hands over his muzzle, gripping it firmly. The lead mule stopped. Inaki could hear his heart, pounding in his ears. The mule made to move back the way he had come. Without a word Arturo sprang to his feet. He approached the lead mule and gave him a sharp slap on his rump. The mule moved quickly forward and passed the men. The mule was heavily laden. The Basques fell in, a little way behind the mules, without a sound. By morning they were deep into the mountains. Before them an enormous peak rose: the Pico de Aneto, the highest mountain in the Pyreneans, stood before them. The mules headed straight for it. They reached it and began to climb. The ascent became more arduous and dangerous. The mules moved steadily upwards. The path became narrower and the ascent steeper. Even for mountain men the going was becoming difficult.

  “If they go much higher, we will lose them,” Inaki said between deep breaths. He was now clambering on hands and knees, as were most of the men.

  “I know,” said Aguirre behind him. At that moment, one of the men lost his footing and, with a cry, fell. They watched his body bounce over the rocks to his death. At the sound of the cry they had all stopped. In silence they looked down at the body of broken bones below them.

  “Come on,” Inaki said sharply. “Don’t look down.”

  The men hesitated. They were reluctant to move.

  “Come on!” Inaki said with all the authority he could muster.

  The men started to move. Some were clearly in shock and distressed at the loss of their friend.

  “Drop behind, Aguirre, and keep them moving,” Inaki said without looking back. Aguirre moved to one side, until the last man had passed him. Then he took his place behind the last man and gently encouraged the men to keep moving. By nightfall they were two-thirds of the way to the summit. As the night became darker, they lost sight of the mules and they were forced to stop. Perched like eagles on the side of the mountain they spent a miserable and cold night. The next morning they continued to follow the wild mountain goat tracks that the mules had led them onto the previous night. There was no sign of the mules. They had obviously not stopped and had continued their journey in the dark. The goat paths spread out over the mountain like veins on a man’s arm. If it had not been for the tracking abilities of the dogs, they would have lost the trail.