The Moon Worshippers (22 page)

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Authors: Aitor Echevarria

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BOOK: The Moon Worshippers
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“My lords and noble gentlemen,” Charlemagne began, “let us review the situation. We were misled into believing that the Moor would honour his pact.” He cast an evil look at the two Benedictines at the end of the long table.

“However, let us not dwell on that. We have to decide whether we stay or go. There are four ways to take a fortified city. The first is by assault with ladders and siege towers. It is the quickest, most dangerous and costly in terms of men. The second way is to breach the walls or the main gate either by mining the walls or with battering rams. That takes time and I fear we do not have time. Third, we could use catapults and fire arrows and set the city on fire. Fire would destroy it, but leaves little in the way of plunder and spoils.”

He paused, “I fear that they have too much water around them for this method to be a success anyway. Lastly, we starve them into submission. This could take a very long time. It could even take several years and I’m not sure that with the river lapping the west and south walls that this could be done at all. Whoever built the city wall’s built them well. They picked the place to build them with an expert military eye. I would like your views.”

For what seemed an age no one spoke.

Then Roland cleared his throat.

“My Lord, it seems a very long way to come for nothing and we have had very little sport with these Iberians and their Moorish masters.

Besides, Guerin will soon be here with 20,000 men, after he has finished in Barcelona.”

“You are right, but if we stay we run the risk that we could lose an army, my dear Roland,” replied Charlemagne. “Now exercise your minds, gentlemen, and give me options and ideas.”

Charlemagne looked around the seated men. On his right were the Frankish commanders. Thal, the captain of his horse and the head of his own personal bodyguard; he didn’t have an original thought in his head, but was highly dependable. Next to him was Elvenden, his commander of the foot soldiers; he was fearless and a veteran of more than a hundred battles. Hard as nails, cunning and one to watch. Then there was Einhard, the Benedictine, a scholar with an immerse intellect; he was not to be trusted since he was the Pope’s man, but useful as intelligence gatherer and spy. What would he say? Charlemagne pondered. He would not speak first for sure. He was far too clever to do that. He would let others speak first and he would listen carefully. Then when he knew which way the wind was blowing he might say something, but this time he would force his hand as a reminder and punishment. He had a lot to answer for. Yes, he would not let him play his own game! Not this time. When the time was ripe, he would hand the monk a sumptuous dish of exquisite malice, which he would force him to devour publicly. Thus he would repay the monk for his humiliation at the gates of Zaragoza.

Much to his surprise, it was Montpelier, the Italian commander, who spoke first.

“My noble King, if I may by your gracious leave?”

Charlemagne nodded.

“It would seem to me that we have two options. We stay and send for fresh troops and supplies and prepare for a long siege, or we press forward around Zaragoza. We leave it behind us.”

Duiker, a Frank, not known for his manners or great intellect broke out in laughter.

“May we know what you find so amusing, Lord Duiker?” Montpelier said icily.

“Forgive me, My Lord,” said Duiker, still smiling, “but you were not with us at Dresden and will not remember the fortress on the hill. We tried to leave that at our rear and it nearly cost us our arse! This city is ten times larger and has twenty times as many troops within its walls.”

“Duiker is right,” said Roland. “We cannot leave such a stronghold and its forces to our rear. I say take it and burn it to the ground.”

“That would appear to be more difficult than we were led to believe. Is that not so, Einhard?” Charlemagne looked at the Benedictine with an icy stare as he spoke the words.

Einhard looked down at the ground and thought furiously. He had no idea what had gone wrong. What was he to tell the king? He gathered himself together and replied thoughtfully.

“My Lord, I have no idea why the Moor failed to keep his promise. I can only suppose that he fears the Caliph of Cordova more than he fears you. However, we will do all in our power to bring you intelligence of why this has happened and in the meantime we will gather intelligence on what Moorish forces are to be expected to come to reinforce the city.”

Einhard glanced at Charlemagne. Had the trick worked and diverted his attention away from him towards a possible coming danger? He could not tell. The king was looking at him with his cold, hard, blue eyes.

“That is not good enough, Einhard. I expect better of you and I demand results.” Charlemagne spoke the words menacingly. “Have you intelligence of a Moorish force coming our way?”

“Yes,” the monk lied, a cold sweat breaking on his brow.

“How many?” asked Charlemagne quizzically.

“We are not sure, My Lord. The intelligence is too fresh. There is also another possibility.” Einhard was now thinking very fast on his feet. He must draw the king’s attention on to other matters.

“We could re-open negotiations. Now that he has seen the strength of our forces, My Lord, the governor may consider us a more worthwhile ally than the caliph and with your powers of persuasion, I am sure that any offer you made would be irresistible.”

Einhard sat back, hardly daring to breathe. He could see that the thought interested Charlemagne. He knew from past experience that Charlemagne had always succeeded by using a mixture of diplomacy and force and when the mix was right he had achieved his most famous victories. It was a method that Charlemagne was an expert exponent at. Had he managed to draw the poison and put Charlemagne’s mind on other more important matters? The king’s next sentence would tell. He held his breath and felt the cold perspiration under his arms.

After what seemed an eternity, the king spoke.

“We will open negotiations,” Charlemagne said slowly and thoughtfully. “But only for a few days. We cannot afford to remain here while the enemy prepares to march against us. If need be we will retreat and return another time, stronger, better prepared,” he paused, “
and with accurate intelligence.”
He emphasised the last two words.

With that, Charlemagne rose from his seat. The noblemen stood, bowed and began to leave the tent. Charlemagne signalled Roland and his youngest son, Ludovic, to remain behind. When they were alone he turned to Roland.

“I want you to make sure that no one leaves or enters Zaragoza. Furthermore, I want patrols sent out at dawn towards the south to warn us of any approaching army. We will not be caught with our pants around our ankles and our arses in the air. Send a company of men north and make sure that our retreat through the mountain pass is covered.”

“It will be done, My Lord,” Roland replied.

Charlemagne looked at his son. “This was to be your kingdom. It maybe that you will have to wait a while longer. If it is not to be this year, we will return next year with an even greater force. You will have to show the patience and the restraint of a future king. Time, I fear, is not on our side. We may have to go with nothing.”

“I can do that, Father.”

“Good. Now another matter. Our friend Einhard. He will target you as the future king. Beware and report to me anything he does or suggests to you. He has his uses but you must always be in control of him and, more importantly, the Church. Do you understand me?”

“Yes Father.”

“Then let us retire. We have business to conclude with the governor of Zaragoza in the morning.”

Roland and Ludovic pushed their chairs back and stood. They bowed to their king and left the tent together. When they were outside, Ludovic turned and spoke quietly to Roland.

“Cousin, do you think we can take Zaragoza?”

“Not a chance,” was the short reply.

The next day, Einhard was summoned to the king. He found Charlemagne engrossed with two of his administrators, issuing various edicts.

“Ah, my dear Abbot.” Charlemagne had looked at Einhard as he entered.

“You will start to negotiate immediately with the King of Asturias. You will expertly and forcefully point out our common interest in defeating the Moors and our common faith. You will declare it our duty as Christian kings to join and banish the heathen Moors from Spain and you will offer a pact blessed by Holy Mother Church. You will not fail. Is that understood?” Charlemagne’s words and meaning were not lost to Einhard. He gave a little shudder that Charlemagne was pleased to notice.

“It will be done, My Lord.”

“Good and just so that we understand each other completely, you will provide a full report on this fiasco by the time we return to France and I want a curse put on this city and all inside it. Now go. You have much work to do.”

Einhard had turned pale. He bowed and left rapidly. When Charlemagne was in this kind of mood, heads rolled, no matter how noble or Christian.

The siege of Zaragoza lasted forty-five days. In that time Charlemagne built great earthworks around the city and attacked it constantly. He had learnt two things: one was that the city could not be entirely cut off. The river was too wide and provided a constant avenue of communication with the outside world. It provided food and a barrier that they could not penetrate; it was too wide. Also, the city could not be taken. Charlemagne was not a man who would waste his time trying to accomplish the impossible. The siege had lasted over a month and his probing attacks had cost many lives, when suddenly the scouts had brought news of a Moorish army in the west. That was the final turn of events for Charlemagne. He decided that Spain was not for the taking, yet. But, no matter. He would return and be better prepared next time. Now his priority was to get back without incurring any unnecessary losses. He ordered that they would withdraw under cover of dark, thereby the defenders of the city would not know that they had gone till morning, by which time he hoped to be some distance away. By the time that they had stopped rejoicing, he would be even further away and by then they would think twice before attacking his rear. He ordered great fires to be lit and left burning so that the city would not know they were departing that night. A few days later he lay siege to Pamplona; took it and razed it to the ground. It was an act of frustration and revenge for his failure at Zaragoza. But it was to cost him dear. The siege of Pamplona allowed the Moorish forces to close in on him and it set the whole Basque nation against him, baying for revenge.

All had gone to plan, except that he miscalculated the speed with which the Caliph of Cordova could put an army in the field. His scouts reported an army, estimated at 15,000, mainly horse and approaching fast. By the next day his troops were in the grip of a fierce rearguard action with the advance cavalry units of the Moorish army. The Moors employing hit and run tactics had slowed down his progress considerably and any strugglers were being mercilessly butchered. Consequently, his army had been forced to adopt the speed of the slowest and his own cavalry had been kept extremely busy trying to fend off the lightning Moorish attacks. They were taking their toll of both men and supplies. He had to reach Roncesvalles quickly or stand and fight. The Moors for their part had no intention of forcing Charlemagne into battle, until their main force could arrive, so after the first day, when they had had the element of surprise, their attacks became less frequent and they became a distant escort to the retreating army. And that’s how things stood as Charlemagne approached Roncesvalles on the morning of the 15 August, 778 AD.

Chapter Sixteen

The Battle of Roncesvalles

Inaki and his Moorish escort had been seen by the Basque lookouts, long before they reached the foothills of the Pyreneans. Messages had been sent of their approach and a group of fifty warriors watched their coming with distrust and suspicion. They saw the men dismount and their escorts leave. Not until the Moorish cavalry was well into the distance did they make their presence known to Inaki, and their welcome was not friendly. In fact, if it were not for Aguirre who knew some of the men, they would have been in a fight, as they had been taken for spies or traitors.

Inaki found that much had happened since they had left their beloved mountain country. Men had gathered from far and wide. The men of Alava had fought and won a battle with the Visigoths. They had returned full of their great victory and this, together with a great desire to revenge the sacking of Pamplona, had united the clans in their determination to oppose Charlemagne. The main body was already well into the mountains around Roncesvalles and he was to join them. They travelled for ten days and reached the Basque main camp at nightfall. All the Basque captains were there and the first thing that Inaki was made to do was repeat his story over and over again. He was questioned over the events around Zaragoza time and again. Finally, they agreed that it was probable that the city had resisted in which case they could expect Charlemagne at anytime within the next few weeks. This caused tremendous excitement among the Basques who, in the absence of action, had taken to quarrelling amongst themselves and settling old feuds. Inaki’s arrival had been just in time and his account settled them once more into a coherent fighting force.

Many of them had witnessed Charlemagne and his troops pass through Roncesvalles. It had taken Charlemagne’s column two days to come through the pass and they had managed to get very close to the column, making an exact count of men, horses and equipment. A council of war was declared and Inaki could, at last, take a rest. His peace did not last very long. Two Nagusi came to talk to him. Slowly, they covered the events in the cavern again, interrupting him with many questions. At last they asked one final question, which was later to trouble Inaki. Had he left any article of his behind in the caverns? Inaki did not believe that he had and answered that he had not. When he had finished, they thanked him and left without comment. That night Inaki could not sleep. His men came to his campfire and talked until some hours before dawn. The talk centred on Charlemagne and his army. It was too large to destroy. Their only hope was to damage it. But how could they so damage such a force, so that Charlemagne would not return? The question vexed them. They knew that they could not defeat Charlemagne. They were too few and too poorly armed.

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