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.”

With that, and in deadly silence, the two brothers led off into the tunnel. They moved in total darkness. A terrible stench began to fill their nostrils, and the men tightened the cloths around their faces. Feeling their way down by keeping a hand on the rough walls of the tunnel, they moved further down the tunnel. After what seemed like an eternity, they began to see light and the end of the tunnel. Some paces before the exit the men stopped. They formed two groups. At the front was Elexoste, Arient and the two brothers, Zaraoat and Urkidit. Behind them came Inaki, Aguirre, the four dogs and the two bowmen, Arturo and Arostegi. The front group kneeled, turned and looked at Inaki. Inaki raised both arms. In one was the doubled headed battle-axe. The hand of the other arm was spread out. Slowly his fingers closed towards the palm. One, two, three, the fingers closed into the palm, held by the thumb. As the fourth finger closed, the front group sprang to their feet and, shrieking their battle cries, leapt into the cavern. As their eyes became accustomed to the light, they could make out an enormous space. Candles burnt in every nook and cranny. An altar with two great braziers filled the far space. In the centre five figures, dressed in black and hooded, were tending a cooking pot over a great fire. To the left, two women had been skilfully cutting away the flesh from a human corpse on a stone slab. As the flesh had accumulated it had been placed in the cooking pot. These had turned towards the men. The men froze, stunned in horror by the scene they beheld. They stood staring at the women, who in turn, had frozen in the act of preparing their human meal.

Two arrows whistled past their heads and struck the nearest women. They crumpled to the ground without a sound. Four dogs, growling and barking, brushed past them, quickly followed by Inaki and Aguirre, yelling and shouting. This brought the front four to their senses. They quickly followed the dogs, Inaki and Aguirre, in their attack. Storm was the first dog to reach the women around the cooking pot. One of the women had taken a burning log from the fire and was keeping Storm at bay with it. The other two women had drawn silver handled daggers. The two Pyreneans and Roka had surrounded these, snapping and barking at their legs. Aguirre threw his battle-axe and hit the nearest full in the face, knocking her to the ground and splitting her face open. All three dogs turned their attack to the other woman. One of the Pyreneans leapt on her back, sinking its teeth into the back of the neck. The force of its weight on her back brought dog and body to the ground. The dog shook the body by the neck, like a rag doll, lifting it into the air and dropping it to the ground, then sniffed the lifeless form as it lay broken on the ground.

Storm seemed to be engaged in a deadly dance with his victim. He was circling her. Sometimes he would make as if to move in, leaping quickly to the side as the firebrand was lunged towards him. Inaki watched in cold fascination as the two pitted their wits against each other. Suddenly, he stopped circling and made a direct forward movement. The witch lunged forward with the firebrand. Storm leapt to the side and turned inward. His teeth sank into the extended arm at the wrist. There came to his ears the cracking of broken bones as the jaws closed. The dog pulled backward on the arm and the firebrand fell to the floor followed instantly by the most horrendous scream. Inaki stepped quickly forward and dispatched the woman with a blow to the head from his axe. The men had killed some of the remaining women. Others had fled deep into the caves. A silence had descended on the bloody scene. They stood gasping for breath amongst the bodies of the Sisters. For several minutes all was silent and then, almost imperceptibly, a faint wailing started in the deepest recesses of the tunnels and caverns beyond. Slowly it grew in crescendo until it seemed to fill the very air that they breathed. It filled all the mighty space of the cavern above their heads and the cavern reverberated to increasing waves of sound. The noise became unbearable and they covered their ears with their hands, but still it penetrated, until some of the men where on their knees, yelling in pain. The very air was moved by the crescendo of sound, and a wind seemed to rise in the cavern.

On the wind rode shadows that began to move along the walls of the cavern and as they moved candles would be blown out or knocked to the ground. A growing darkness descended behind them as the sound advanced towards them. It was as if unidentifiable forms were pulling a curtain around them. In no time at all, half the cavern had been plunged into an impenetrable blackness. Inaki stood in horror. He could see the danger growing before his eyes. He summoned all his willpower. Moving over to one of the candles, he stuffed some of the soft wax in his ears. He moved to the nearest man and did the same. He gestured frantically to the others to copy him. Moving quickly to the fire, he started tossing firebrands in all directions. Small patches of light sprang forth from the growing darkness, but not enough to counter the ever-increasing blackness that was threatening to engulf the small band of men and pitch them all into everlasting inky oblivion.

A flurry of stones and daggers suddenly filled the air out of the darkness. Two of the men, Zaraoat and Urkidit, were hit and killed. Inaki was now screaming at the top of his voice and frantically throwing burning brands about in panic. One of his brands flew high into the air, hit a stalactite hanging from the roof of the cavern, bounced off and descended in a shower of sparks and flame. It landed at the feet of a Sister and set fire to her clothing. The woman screamed, turned and like a burning comet, retreated into the depths of the cavern, finally slumping to the floor. In the halo of her burning body a terrible sight befell their eyes. A wall of Sisters stood there, shoulder to shoulder.

The first to react to this diabolical sight was not the men, but the dogs: led by Storm. He lowered his head and growling fiercely, he charged at the wall of Sisters. The wall opened and closed behind him. Three more holes in the wall seemed to open and close as the other dogs hit it. The wailing stopped suddenly and so did the impending darkness. The Sisters had turned and seemed to be troubled by something in their mists. Groans of pain and muffled screams had replaced the wailing. The wall had become a mass of surging forms, moving and ebbing towards some troubling centre spot.

Inaki turned to his men. “Come on!” he gestured and screamed. “This is the best chance you’re going to get to finish it and save your lives.”

With a firebrand in one hand and his axe in the other, he charged at the Sisters. His men hesitated and then followed his example. They fell upon the mass of hooded and black-cloaked forms, cutting, axing and stabbing anything that came within reach. Finally and totally exhausted, it was over. The floor was covered in blood and so were the men. Some had wounds to arms and faces. Arostegi had been stabbed in the eye and knelt holding his face, the blood running between his fingers. A little distance from the men, the two beautiful white Pyreneans lay dead in a circle of dead and dying Sisters. Aguirre, his head down and in his hands, knelt beside one of the great dogs. The faint groans of the wounded could be heard all around them. From the depths of the cavern; Storm and Roka emerged, their chests and mouths covered in blood. Inaki looked at the surrounding carnage for a few moments. He gestured to the men to remove the wax from their ears. He removed the wax from his own ears and in a very tired voice, which was almost a whisper said:

“Find the boy.”

The men at first could not understand, but gradually, slowly and painfully they understood and obeyed. They moved slowly round the cavern and after sometime, one finally shouted: “Here, under the altar.”

They all converged towards the altar and sure enough, there was the boy. He was sat with his legs drawn up in a kind of stupor. They lifted him and carried him out. Two men helped the man who had been blinded in the eye. They collected their weapons and retreated up the tunnel to the top of the waterfall where they bathed their wounds and washed off the blood. Finally they put the wounded man, their dead and the boy on the mules and silently, without looking back, made their way out of the caves. Back through the tunnels and caverns they went until, after several hours, they emerged into the dying sunlight. Inaki ordered the dead to be burned and the entrance to be sealed with rocks and stones. After this was done, the six men collapsed onto the soft grass and they all slept for the rest of the night. The following morning over the breakfast fire, they reflected on the events of the past day.

“That was some fight,” Aguirre said to Inaki.

“Could have been worse,” Inaki replied. “At one point, I feared it would be.”

“Element of surprise?” mused Aguirre.

“Worth a thousand men, they didn’t have time to prepare,” Inaki said.

“No. It would have been different if they had,” Aguirre said it as a simple statement of fact. “What now?”

“Have you noticed the boy, Aguirre?”

“Yes and our wounded are not much better.”

“He’s not fit to be taken back like that. Our men will recover, but his injuries are in his head.”

“You were not thinking of taking him back, Inaki, were you? It would give away our advantage, and besides he’s not fit?”

“I don’t know what they have done to him,” Inaki said. “But I intend to do the best I can for him.”

“Will he live?” queried Aguirre.

“Yes, but they have his mind.”

They both looked at the boy. He was lying on the grass, eyes wide open and in some sort of trance. He had not moved or spoken since they had rescued him.

“Can you cure him?” asked Aguirre.

“Only time will tell and it will take greater skill than mine, I fear. Come, we have been here too long. The Sisters will recover and I fear they will gather friends and give chase. We have to move quickly now if we are going to save Zaragoza.”

Elexoste looked up in alarm. “Why do you say that? Will the Sisters really come after us?”

“They have got to, once they have dug themselves out. We know their hiding place and besides we have taken their mules and they will want to recover the boy or kill him.”

“So it’s not over yet?” Elexoste said in a very tired and sad voice.

“It’s never over,” said Aguirre, “but take heart, this time we have them on our own ground, in the mountains and where we are impregnable. Let them come and we will draw them towards Euskadi.”

Inaki spoke pensively. “I think they will make towards Zaragoza.”

“Of course, they will think we are taking the boy back to his father and if we leave no tracks it will gain us time and space to give them a warm reception when they realise their mistake,” Aguirre said gleefully.

Inaki stood and gave some short commands. The men gathered themselves up quickly. They were anxious to leave the frightful place and the small party of men was soon on the move. Roka, sensing his master’s grief at the loss of his beloved Pyreneans, stayed close to Aguirre. As they moved Storm began to quarter the mountain slopes ahead of him and the men seeing the dog hunt, began to string their bows. Storm’s action soon diverted the minds of the men from the terrible ordeal they had suffered and events inside the caverns. They moved purposely, knowing that they were heading home to their beloved land and enjoying the hunt. Inaki noticed their rising spirits and uttered a small prayer to the Gods for the gift that was Storm.

Inaki’s peace of mind was short lived. That evening, the Moorish boy, who had remained in a stupor and had been tied to a mule, began to shake violently and vomit uncontrollably. They stopped, cut him down from the mule and Inaki tended to him.

“What on earth is the matter with him?” Aguirre asked with concern.

“I don’t know, exactly,” Inaki replied, “It’s something that they gave him to keep him quiet and manageable.”

“Could it be poison?”

“No. They had to keep him alive. He was of no use to them dead, but whatever it was, it was so powerful that it may still kill him. He has to keep water down or he will die.” Inaki knelt thoughtfully by the boy.

“What are you going to do?” one of the men asked.

After a while Inaki replied.

“Put him to sleep. It will give the body time to recover and hopefully, time to get whatever it is out of his system.”

Inaki mixed some herbs in water and Aguirre held the boy’s head tenderly, while Inaki poured the mixture down his throat.

The boy vomited, but kept enough down to have the desired effect. Soon he was in a deep slumber. They tied him back on the mule.

They skirted around the mountain and the monastery, and made towards the town of Boltana. As they marched, avoiding all human contact, Inaki and Aguirre planned. They decided that they would make contact with the Muslim garrison at Boltana and send, through them, a message to the governor of Zaragoza that they had his son. Quite how this was to be achieved would be decided at Boltana. In the meantime they would press ahead with all possible speed. The capture of the mules meant that the wounded man and the boy were no handicap and progress was fast. They marched, only stopping to eat a hot meal at night and to dope and feed the boy. Slowly the boy began to recover. Within three days they had reached the outskirts of Boltana.

It was market day in Boltana. Inaki sent Aguirre and Elexoste to buy fresh food. He gave them some silver coins and retreated to a small hill above the town to await their return. The Muslim boy had fully recovered, although his mind was still scarred by his ordeal. It would be many years before he was fully healed and even then, the nightmares would still visit him. He viewed his rescue with curiosity and suspicion. He had never encountered Basques before and found their language incomprehensible, as did most people. He wondered at their clothing and weapons, as they did his. With Inaki there emerged, slowly, a patient-healer relationship. Only seven years older than the Muslim boy, Inaki not only had his respect, but an affinity with the boy that was difficult to explain. Born into a royal family, Adr-er-Rahman II had, on the surface, little in common with Inaki. In later years he would distinguish himself by his wars against the Christian nucleus-groups within Spain and their attempt at reconverting Spain and by his notorious persecutions of Christians. He never forgot or forgave the Benedictines for putting him in the hands of the Sisters of the Moon, and throughout his life took great pleasure in torturing, mutilating and beheading any of those monks that had the misfortune to fall into his hands. He was cruel, sly, mistrusting and ambitious and yet despite all this, he trusted and liked Inaki. As a result, he never made an attempt to escape whilst he was with the Basques and held them in life-long high esteem.

Elexoste and Aguirre had entered the town by the north gate. The town was full of people, selling and buying. As a result few gave the strangers a second glance, and they moved about the market place with ease. The town inhabitants were mostly Mozarabes, which are Christians who had taken-up the Muslim religion to keep their possessions and lands. They lived in a twilight zone. They were despised by both Christians and Arabs alike. They belonged to neither one side nor the other and were persecuted by both. Consequently, those of the inhabitants who did take a harder, closer and longer look at the two Basques made no effort to denounce them. The insecurity of their own fragile position made them unsure and apathetic.

After completing their purchases, Aguirre and Elexoste were resting on the steps of the great Mosque, eating some fruit. Below them, a man was sitting on a silk cushion. In front of him was a small desk with quills and parchment. As they watched a succession of people would approach the Arab and he would write down their words, but keep the parchments, which he would place inside a leather bag beside him.

“What on earth is he doing?” Elexoste said, between mouthfuls of apple.

“Don’t know, but I mean to find out.” Aguirre got up and approached one of the people waiting for the scribe.

“Friend,” Aguirre said, “what does that man you are waiting for do?”

The man glanced at Aguirre, saw his great size and the battle-axe in his belt and thought it would be better to be polite, not wishing to offend him.

“He writes letters.”

“Letters?” queried Aguirre.

“Yes, letters. You know, if you have a message for someone, he will write it for you and send it. Depending on how long it is and how far it has to go he will charge you accordingly.” Then he added. “But, you must haggle or he will overcharge.” He didn’t wish to get on the wrong side of Aquirre.

“I am obliged,” Aguirre said.

“Don’t mention it.”

The man said moving quickly away, thankful that the conversation had ended.

“Well?” Elexoste asked.

“Stay here and don’t move.” Aguirre went over to the scribe.

“I wish to send a letter.”

“Sit down!” the Arab said. He gestured to a cushion before the small desk.

Aguirre sat down.

“Where do you wish to send your letter?” the Arab said.

“To Zaragoza.”

The Arab wrote a few lines down in Arabic.

“And to whom?”

Aguirre paused for a moment. “Captain Umar-el Bakr.”

The Arab looked up from the parchment and stared at Aguirre. Aguirre stared straight back with a blank expression on his face.

“Who is sending this letter?” The Arab was still staring at Aguirre and had put his quill down.

Aguirre, giving no sign of his thumping heart, said in a matter-of-fact voice: “From my master, the merchant Jean Luc de Tours of Lyon.”

The Arab picked up the quill again.

“What is your master’s message?”

Aguirre made as if to clear his throat. He was beginning to enjoy his play-acting.

“Most illustrious Captain Umar-el-Bekr, of the Guard at the palace of the governor of Zaragoza.”

Aguirre paused, and then continued.

“The merchandise that you ordered from the Benedictines has been collected and will be outside Zuera on the north road in three days time.”

“Not so fast. Give me time to write and it is customary to start the letter with salaam,” said the Arab.

Aguirre paused. “So be it. Do it.”

“Go on,” the Arab said after a moment.

“The goods are on three mules. No, make that, two mules. You will need but a small escort to take them into Zaragoza. Your humble servant,

Jean Luc de Tours. Merchant of fine quality goods.”

*

The Arab finished and smiled. “You want to keep some of the profit for yourself?”

“I am but a humble muleskinner.”

“That will be three silver pieces,” the Arab said still smiling.

“I will give you one,” Aguirre replied.

“The price is three.”

“Two if you can guarantee it reaches Zaragoza tomorrow.”

“Very well, two and it will be in Zaragoza tomorrow.”

“You swear it by the Blood of Allah?”

The Arab looked uncomfortable, but nodded slowly. Aguirre handed over two silver coins. He stood and bowed and joined Elexoste. The Arab had carefully watched Aguirre’s departure. He was no muleskinner. Of that he was sure. He looked down at the letter. A man that dealt with the Captain of the governor’s Guard was not to be trifled with. He picked up his quill and carefully wrote down the date at the bottom of the parchment. He wrote, 1st August 778 and his name. Charlemagne had entered Spain and would be at the gates of Zaragoza in five days.

“Let us get out of here. We have stayed too long already,” said Aguirre.

They left the town and made their way along the north road. When they had reached the hillside, they carefully made sure that no one could see them and took a track leading off the road towards the hill. After they had been on the track for sometime, Roka appeared out of a thicket. He came bounding over to his master and made a great fuss over him as if Aguirre had been away for a very long time. He placed two great paws on his chest and licked his face. Aguirre laughed and scratched the great head behind both ears. The dog growled his pleasure.

Roka soon led them towards the camp and as they approached, Arturo appeared from behind a tree, bow at the ready. To his left, Storm suddenly rose from some long grass. His head was low and he stared intently with his yellow eyes.

“That animal still gives me the creeps,” Elexoste said. “His ability to appear out of nowhere is uncanny.”

“That’s the wolf in him,” Arturo replied, smiling. “You will find the camp a hundred paces ahead of you. Have you any food? I’m starving!”

They gave Arturo some food and made their way to the camp where Inaki was in deep conversation with the boy. He looked up and greeted the two men.

“Did it go well?” he asked as they sat down beside him.

“Better than in your wildest dreams,” Aguirre replied.

In short sentences he explained about the Arab scribe and what he had done.

“You have been cheated. You paid too much,” said the boy without being asked for his opinion.

“I will have his head,” he said seriously.

Bloodthirsty little devil, thought Aguirre. However, he had a burning question which he did give voice to.

“Will the letter reach Zaragoza?”

“Oh yes,” said the boy matter of factly. “It will get there all right.”

“Let us move,” said Inaki, “we have an appointment to keep.”

As they did so, Aguirre turned to Inaki and said: “Is there something I should know?”

“What do you mean?” said Inaki defensively.

“Well, as we approached the camp, Storm was waiting in ambush.”

Inaki looked at his old friend.

“He has been acting strangely, but we can talk about it later.”

“Are you sure?” said Aguirre.

“Yes.”

With that, Inaki turned away and hurried the men to get started.