Inaki returned to the village. To his surprise he found that Zabala was still there. Bad weather had forced him and his men to remain. As they sat on the floor of the house where they were staying, Inaki took in his surroundings and pondered. He took in the familiar smells of sweat, urine and the animals in the stable below. It reassured him. It was like home and suddenly home was where he wanted to be. Zabala interrupted his thoughts.
“What became of the old man? Could they do anything for him?”
Inaki described how the old man’s body had been brought out by the monks, burnt and buried.
“Why did they go to all that trouble of digging a hole in hard frozen ground and then burn him?” asked Zabala.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question. Do you think it’s their custom? Some sort of Christian ritual?”
The two men fell into a thoughtful silence.
“Not their custom. In fact to burn a body is punishable by death under the laws of Charlemagne,” said a voice.
Startled by the voice, the two men looked quickly around the room to see where it had come from. Then in a dark corner of the room they saw an old woman, dressed all in black. Her skin was like brown leather, her eyes, two grey pools in deep hollows, her hair was white. She still had a few of her teeth and was using them on an animal skin; softening it slowly with her remaining teeth.
Inaki cleared his throat. “Could you please explain why you say that?”
“It’s the Ancients’ way.”
Inaki was at a loss and about to open his mouth again when Zabala touched his arm.
“Forgive our ignorance mother,” he began gently, “but we don’t understand. Who are the Ancients?”
“Those who built the fort,” replied the old woman.
“This is going to take longer than her leather work!” whispered Inaki.
“Show respect and patience. The old often hold the keys too many things. Leave this to me,” said Zabala.
Inaki sat back against the wall and folded his arms.
Zabala continued. “Could you tell us where the Ancients come from?”
“Same place as those crows up in the fort.”
Now even Zabala was confused. “Brother, you’re so good,” Inaki said with a smile. He looked at the old woman and said: “Where is this fort you speak of?”
The old woman looked up from her work and with contempt she said, “You should know.” She paused. “You’ve just come from there!”
Inaki gasped: “THE MONESTERY! It’s an ancient fort.”
Zabala joined in, “And the monks are mostly Italians, so the Ancients are Romans and they built the fort?”
Inaki intervened. “The monks turned the fort into a monastery. Yes?”
The old woman nodded. Then she said, “The Romans always used that way of burial for important people or those who they wanted to be left undisturbed and hidden for ever. That monastery is a nest of vipers and spies.”
The two men looked hard at each other. Each was thinking the same thing and knowing that they both could not utter their thoughts. Finally, Inaki broke the silence.
“HE DID IT!” he whispered harshly. “The monks have swallowed his story. They must have believed him and so they had to destroy the body and any trace of him.”
“Yes and so they think we are more in number than we are,” Zabala replied.
Another thought entered Inaki’s mind: one that he did not like. Inaki’s face darkened and his green eyes deepened into two hard green stones. Zabala had not seen this look on his face before, but he had seen it on other men and he knew what it meant.
Zabala chose his words with care and in a low voice said:
“Whatever you feel or are thinking you cannot put these villagers in danger. You must not put them in danger. If anything happened to those monks the village would be burnt to the ground and every man, woman and child put to the sword. You know the Franks would do that?”
He paused and said earnestly: “You must agree with me?”
Inaki nodded.
“Good,” said Zabala. But he was not convinced. “My men and I leave tomorrow. I will not put these good people in any more danger.” Inaki nodded again, but his face had a black expression on it.
“Anyway,” said Zabala, reading his mind, “you have no proof.”
“Then why did they bother to bury him thus and why did he last so long?” Zabala could not answer.
“I leave tomorrow.” With that Zabala got up and left to gather his men.
“I know what you are thinking,” said the old woman in a matter of fact voice. Inaki looked at her. He was taken by surprise by her remark but showed no emotion and said nothing. After a few moments she spoke again, “I had a son. He was strong and brave. Had a wife and child.”
She paused. Inaki said nothing and waited.
“They killed him. Well not directly, but slowly, it was the same.”
Inaki waited again. He knew that sometimes it was better not to probe or ask questions. After a long while, she said: “He was a good man, and a good provider for the family. They took that away for him when they cut off his hands.” This was followed by a long silence.
“He took it for sometime, but in the end he could not stand the helplessness of it all: being spoon-fed like a baby at meal times and not being able to work. He was too proud. Sometime later he took his own life.” She fell silent again.
This time Inaki spoke. “Was it the king’s men that did that to him?”
“He only laughed at them, because they claimed a great victory at Zaragoza.” She paused. “They had come back with nothing; nothing and they claimed a victory!” She spat on the floor. “The Moors had given them a beating and kicked them out of Spain. Lying dogs. What is more, those monks just looked on while they did it. I hate them all. I curse them. May they all die a slow and painful death!”
Inaki sat in silence. He yearned to tell her that it was his people that had defeated the Franks, but he dared not.
She looked at Inaki.
“You will not fear for us. Do you hear me? Do what you will and may the Gods bless you and keep you. Fear not. No one will know.”
She looked straight at him with cold hard eyes full of hate. Inaki knew he could trust her, but said nothing. If you did not know, you could not betray even if you wanted to. Torture was a powerful instrument, especially on the old.
Chapter Twenty One
The Monastery of Roncesvalles
Inaki waited until Zabala had left. He had told no one of his plan and in that way he hoped to protect the innocent from harm. He waited until early evening before talking to his host, the headman of the village, Eneko.
“Have you any candles?” Inaki asked.
“We have a few,” Eneko replied.
“Could I buy some? In a snow hole the heat from a candle can be the difference between life and death and I need a rope and food as well, all of which I will gladly pay for.”
“Fine,” said Eneko. “I will let you have all that we can spare.”
Having packed his things in his leather bag, he carefully wrapped the six candles that he had bought and placed them on top of his other things. He checked his food and weapons, strung the rope over his shoulder, thanked his host and left for home. When he was well out of sight of the village he turned towards the monastery. It would take him all day to reach it and it could be dark before he made it to his shelter above the monastery. He had heard wolves howling in the mountains around the village and if he were caught in the open by them without fire, he would be in mortal danger. If only he could make the tree-line above the monastery before nightfall. It became clear by midday that he would not make the tree-line and he would not have time to make a fire. It had snowed hard for two days and the depth of the snow had made the going slow. He looked below him to lower ground and saw a gulley in the mountain side which was wooded. He turned and made haste towards it. Having reached the gulley he found it to b
e deeper and more wooded than it had appeared from a distance. He picked out three large pines growing together and dropped his packs and rope to the ground. He set about cutting some small trees. As soon as these where cut and trimmed he climbed the largest of the three pines and set one of the trunks between the branches of his tree and the tree next to him. He repeated this until a platform had been built between the three trees. Having covered the platform with branches and tested it for strength so that he was confident that it would hold his weight, he climbed down and threw his packs up onto the platform. He took the rope and cut a length from it. Then he placed one end around Aize’s chest and the cut length around her rear end. Aize began to growl a small protest. Tying the two lengths together he threw the rope up on the platform.
“Stay!” he commanded Aize, and climbed the tree up on to the platform. Grabbing the rope he pulled the dog off the ground and onto the platform. Aize protested and stood with her tail between her legs and her head down. “Stay and don’t move unless you want to become the wolves supper tonight! Now sit and keep still.” The dog obeyed.
The platform was the height of a man and a half above the ground. Inaki judged that no wolf would be able to jump high enough to reach it. If he was wrong he would soon know. As darkness fell the cry of the wolves grew nearer. It was a very cold night. The cold entered every part of his body and if it were not for the warmth of the dog between his legs as he sat with his cloak around them both, they would not have survived the night. He had put his iron knife in one boot and the doubled-headed axe in his other knee-high boot. In the pitch blackness, dog and man sat, both wrapped in Inaki’s cloak. Inaki sat with his back against the trunk of one of the trees. It grew colder that night and very dark. Around midnight Aize’s whole body seemed to harden against Inaki. The dog had heard the first of the wolves enter the gulley. Inaki knew that Aize was never wrong and he pulled the axe out of his boot and held the handle tightly. Aize stood up and Inaki grabbed the back of her neck tightly, holding her skin and fur. “No!” he whispered into the dog’s ear. “Stay still and quiet.”
As a weak third of a winter’s moon appeared from behind a cloud, its light showed a number of pairs of eyes, milling around the platform silently. All night they watched the eyes. At last dawn came and he could see that at least ten wolves had gathered around them. Moving in and out of the trees it was hard to calculate just how many, but Inaki was sure that there was a least ten, if not more. During the night he had put one end of the rope around Aize’s neck and had her secured to the tree. He could now move and getting to his knees he pulled the pack towards him and untied the bow from it. He strung the bow with numb fingers and with some difficulty. He took an arrow from the quiver. Now don’t miss, he thought to himself. He waited with the arrow notched in the bow string. The wolves had moved away from the platform, but still appeared, now and then, between the trees. Inaki picked a spot between two trees where a wolf seemed to appear at regular intervals. He took aim and waited. After a few moments he saw the head appear and let loose the arrow. It hit the wolf in the side, making it leap in the air and howl with pain. It ran off leaving a trail of crimson spots in the snow, closely followed by the pack.
Inaki knew that as soon as it weakened, the pack would kill it and devour it. He had to move fast and get as far away as possible before they had eaten it. He untied Aize and threw her down into the soft snow. Pack, bow, quiver quickly followed. Axe in hand he jumped down, gathered his things and made off towards the monastery. He could hear the wolves fighting over the body of their dead pack member as they devoured it. He only hoped that it would keep them busy until he reached the tree-line and could build a fire. He also knew that wolves marked their borders and would not cross them. He only prayed and hoped that he would cross this pack’s border when he reached the trees, but he had no way of telling if it was their border. He moved as quickly as he could through the snow and at about midday reached the trees. He had looked back several times, but there had been no sign of the wolves. Some time later he found the shelter from where he had observed the monastery. He quickly gathered wood and set about making the fire that would mean life or death if the wolves found him.
The fire took longer to build and light than he had hoped. His hands were cold and the wood was damp. In the end he managed to light one of his precious candles and place it in the middle of some tinder. Gradually the fire took hold and finally he had a roaring fire going. Time to eat, he thought and out of the bag he took some dry meat and bread which he shared with Aize.
“Tomorrow we will set some snares and hopefully catch a hare or rabbit.” He often spoke to the dog, as if she was human. It came naturally to him and Aize seemed to understand the tone if not the words, often putting her head to one side when in agreement. As darkness fell he built up the fire and left the shelter. He gave Aize the order to “stay” and then moved to the edge of the forest where he could see the monastery. It was a dangerous thing to do, but he wanted to know when the monks took to their beds. He could see lights flickering. The monastery was a square building of four walls with square towers on each corner. The top of the walls ended in a roof which was covered with terracotta tiles. The walls had no openings, until almost to the top of the walls. Then, near the top was a set of square windows. In the centre of these four walls, but set against the rear wall, he could make out the roof of another building. It looked like a large rectangular building. From his view point, it looked quite large. He could see lights behind the openings. It was too cold to remain were he was, so he returned to his fire and waited. Some time later he took another look and this time there were fewer lights. He went back to his fire, built it up and was soon asleep.
At dawn he woke. The fire was almost dead so he set about reviving it. He ate some bread and cheese and set off to hunt with Aize. He had two spare bow strings and with these he would make two snares. Having found a hare run, he set about making his snares. First he cut three straight branches from a nearby ash tree. These he pruned with his iron knife and cut them in two with his axe. He then went back to the run and looked for a sapling near the hare’s run. When he found one, he bent it over and saw how near the tip came over the run. Next he marked the spot with one of his ash sticks and sharpened one end, cutting a notch into the other end.
He repeated this with three other sticks so that he had four prepared thus. He bent the sapling over again to make quite sure he had the spot right. Then he drove two of the sticks down into the frozen ground with the back of his axe spaced either side of the run. Next he cut to length one of his sticks so that it fitted between the two grounded sticks in the notches he had made in them. Taking the bow string he made a loop at one end and hung it just above the ground. When he had it just right he made a knot around the stick suspended between the two grounded sticks and knotted the loose end around the top of the sapling which he bent down. Any creature running into the loop would pull the horizontal stick loose and find itself suspended in the air with its neck broken by the whiplash of the sapling. It was a well tried and effective method of snaring. Further down the hare run he set another snare. All he had to do now was check his snares now and then. As he made his way to the shelter, he managed to shoot a pigeon out of a tree with his bow.
Returning to the shelter and the fire he quickly plucked and gutted the bird and roasted it over the fire. He took the breasts for himself and gave the rest of the bird to Aize, together with a piece of bread. It was not really enough for a dog of her size, but he knew that Aize could go without food for three or four days with no ill effects and if he provided little but often, then the dog and he would survive, although hungry. After he had eaten he went over his plan in his mind. He would need a tree to get up to the openings in the wall. Mentally he calculated its length, got up and started to scan the forest for one that was of the right length, not too heavy and with enough branches so that it would act like a ladder that he could climb up. It soon became clear to him that nothing but a medium
size pine would do. He set off to look for a suitable tree. The search for one took him close to his snare lines. He decided to check his snares and to his surprise and delight he saw that his first snare had been sprung. His heart quickened as he searched ahead of him trying to make out what, if anything, had been caught. He struggled through the snow as quickly as he could and finally, there in the air, hung a mountain hare in its white winter coat, with the snare’s string around its neck. He took the hare down and was filled with joy. Fresh meat! Enough for two and as he made his way back with his prize, there before him was the perfect tree. Oh, the Gods were smiling and he was sure now that his plan was blessed by them.
As the weak winter sun began to sink, he reached his shelter and stoked up the fire. Putting on fresh fire wood he turned his attention to the hare. It would be a simple meal. He took his knife and expertly gutted the animal. Next he removed the skin and head. He sharpened a stick and ran it through the carcass. Setting the hare above the fire between two sticks, he reached into his pack and found the leather bag of coarse flour. He filled his iron pot with snow and set it near to the fire to melt. When the snow had melted, he mixed in the flour with a pinch of salt and flattened the ball of dough onto a flat stone which he placed at the edge of the fire. Aize had watched the whole thing by his side and had not taken her eyes off the hare for a moment. As the aroma of the cooking hare and bread rose, a long string of saliva appeared at the corner of her mouth. After they had eaten, Inaki put more wood onto the fire. He arranged two large logs across the flames and calculated that they would still be burning if not smouldering by dawn. Next he unpacked his things. Out came the candles and rope. As he did this, he spoke to Aize.
“I’m going to leave you here for a while. Stay and guard my things until I get back. Now stay and wait.”
The Moon Worshippers Page 23
