Part II Chimenae Chapter 3
"It is a terrible waste," San-Ragoz said as he watched Aulutiz's companions empty out his chest and kick at the soil in their search for treasure. He hoped he would be permitted to gather up some of the earth once they understood that their labor was in vain.
"So you say. " Aulutiz was growing edgy as the night drew to a close. Already a few birds were singing and the dimmest stars were paling.
"There is nothing here, Aulutiz," said one of his companions. "Just old dirt. " He kicked at it, scuffing it into the ground.
Aulutiz flung up his hands. "Then it was all a lie," he exclaimed in disgust.
Erupting from the branches of the olive trees, birds flocked overhead, and a pair of bats, like scraps of soot, fluttered toward the old barn, to rest in the rafters.
"You may have no use for it; the earth is treasure to me. " San-Ragoz bent to salvage as many handfuls of the soil as he could, pushing it into a mound and laying a bit of rotting cloth atop it.
"If you are mad enough to value it, take it," said Aulutiz, making no effort to conceal his annoyance at this disappointment.
"You are most gracious," said San-Ragoz, his irony unnoticed by the others.
Aulutiz was restless now, and he glanced at the eastern crags where the tarnished silver sky announced the coming sunrise; more sounds came on the breeze. "It is time to sleep; it will be full-light soon," he announced, and motioned urgently to those with him. "Hurry. We're late. "
"What about him?" the tallest of the group demanded, pointing at San-Ragoz.
In the sheepfold, the animals were milling, ready for food and the shepherd to guide them out of the village for a day up the mountain.
"If he is who he says he is, he can fend for himself. " Aulutiz pointed toward the forest. "Go. Go. " He flashed a look in San-Ragoz's direction. "If you are still here tonight, my mother will want to see you. "
"And I her," San-Ragoz said grimly as he continued to pile up the earth that had been spilled from his chest.
"It is nearly dawn," Aulutiz called as he ran toward the promised haven of the trees.
"I know," said San-Ragoz. He sat on the ground and began to unlace his houseauz, working the inner sole lose so that he could put a lining of his native earth beneath it, and replace the inner sole. He had finished both houseauz and was tying the laces when the silver edge of the sun sent long shadows over the land. San-Ragoz felt the annealing presence of his native earth spread through him as he stood up facing west, his shadow lying before him like a reclining giant. Using the old cloth for a bag, San-Ragoz scraped up the rest of the Carpathian earth he could salvage, unconcerned now with the brightening sun. Holding the bag closed with his hands, he began to walk toward the olive trees; behind him he heard the first of the villagers open his door and step out into the morning. Without haste, San-Ragoz went through the orchard, his spirits lifting and his strength returning. He was almost smiling as he went into the forest south of the village. When he came upon an outcropping of rock, he stopped, and found a hollow between two boulders where he could put his rescued Carpathian earth. Then he laid back atop the earth and let himself begin to regain his stamina and vitality.
Just before he lapsed into his intense slumber, two questions niggled at his thoughts: if Aulutiz and his companions were on their native earth, why were they inactive during the day? Why did they behave as if the sun drained them of all strength? Should they not have been as capable as he, on their native earth, of resisting the exhaustion of the sun? He had no answer when he woke, shortly after noon; rising and setting himself as much to rights as he could, he went back to the edge of Mont Calcius, determination in his stride.
This time there was a man with three missing fingers manning the gate. He had the bearing and body of a mason; he used his big shoulders to show he would not admit strangers to the village before he spoke. "Stop there. " The animals of the night before were gone.
"Willingly," said San-Ragoz, keeping to his place by the wall.
"We do not welcome strangers here," the gate-warder said, adding unnecessarily, "I will not admit you. "
San-Ragoz's demeanor did not change. "No matter. I do not seek entry; I ask only for some information, which you may give me without letting me in. " He did not add that he could easily climb the stone wall, or that he had been in the village the night before.
"What information is that?" asked the gate-warder.
"Something I have heard in my travels-I understand your region of the mountains is called Holy Blood: why is that?" He saw that his bluntness had shocked the man, and went on smoothly, "I came this way some time ago and it had no such reputation then. "
The gate-warder did his best to smile. "Lowland rumors," he said, dismissing the name and its significance with a wave of his hand.
San-Ragoz nodded. "It is always thus. " He paused, then went on, "And yet, I have heard the same in these mountains, from villagers living here. Why would they say-?"
"Because we fear the Moors," said the gate-warder quickly. "They are coming higher and higher into our forests. If you have been here before, you must have no doubt of that. "
"They are taking many trees on the lower slopes," San-Ragoz agreed.
"We have no desire to give them ours. We encourage them to believe all manner of terrible things about our villages and our people. It is very useful. " His expression was partly smug and partly worried; his explanations were not being received as he expected they would be.
"An excellent precaution," said San-Ragoz. "But I saw a cup filled with blood set in a ruin. That was not done before-not that I was aware of. " He cocked his head. "Did I miss something earlier?"
The gate-warder shook his head several times. "No. No, you did not miss anything. " He coughed. "With the Moors here, we have returned to the old ways. The god of the Christians has not protected us. The older gods might. We leave the blood of our animals. At feast-times we sacrifice a horse. "
"Ah," said San-Ragoz, beginning to understand how this ritual had come about.
"Do not walk abroad at night, foreigner; there is a need of a goat tonight. Not all goats walk on four legs. " He scowled.
"You are saying I may be one such," San-Ragoz said.
"If that is how you take it, you may be warned," the gate-warder recommended. "And do not return here. "
San-Ragoz gave a single nod. "I thank you for your counsel. "
"This is no place for you, or any foreigner," the gate-warder said for emphasis. "Tell any others you may meet. "
"It is certainly no place for the Moors," said San-Ragoz, and stepped back from the gate. "Oh. One question more: have the old gods helped you?"
"We leave the cups of blood," said the gate-warder.
"Yes, you do," said San-Ragoz before he turned away. "And that is not an answer. " He did not bother to look back as he went on to the north-west, crossing the little stream without hesitation or discomfort; he was aware of being observed for every step he took until he went back into the forest, and along the game trails and abandoned roads he had learned the century before. Once there, he kept on at a brisk pace, covering distance rapidly, following the faint but unmistakable pull of the blood-bond. This led him upward, to the long, bare ridge above the village; to the shepherds' huts that stood at every ten thousand paces as the mountain rose toward its crest in a treeless sweep of stone. He passed one, and saw another behind him on the ridge; by mid-afternoon, he had gone by a third; he estimated he was twenty-five or -six thousand paces from Mont Calcius; he could barely make out the cluster of buildings surrounded by trees below him in the distance.
Finally he saw one stone house larger than the others, much better-made and kept up than any he had discovered on his walk; it was at the end of a circle of ruins. There were old stone arches standing around the house, each with a cup placed within it.
Approaching the door of the house, San-Ragoz saw that it was banded with iron and certainly bolted on the inside. He knew he would have to wait until dusk to speak to its occupant, and so he spent the late afternoon inspecting the cups, noticing how much the blood in each had coagulated, and determining what animal had provided it-most were sheep and goats, but two were boar and one was a horse. San-Ragoz put each back in its arch, then went back to the door, found a place to lean against the stones, and tarried there as the sun dropped lower and lower in the west.
By twilight, he was ready and alert, anticipating the arrival of Chimenae's band. They would be up by now, and they would travel swiftly. Chimenae herself would want to receive them; he was determined to see her first. He was sorry now that he had such a disheveled appearance, but there was nothing to be done; he brushed off the front of his outer habit with the missing sleeve, and straightened the hang of the garment.
There was the distinct scrape of a metal bar being drawn back and then the door swung open, the old hinges moaning, and Chimenae stepped out of the darkness, stopping at once when she caught sight of San-Ragoz, poised to attack, and staring as recognition dawned. "You!" she accused him. "You!" She was dressed in Byzantine silks that had once been a deep, vibrant red but were now faded to a dull pink against which the old-fashioned tablion of gold coins stood out luminously in the last echo of daylight. Golden coins hung from her ears and there was a narrow diadem of gold around her brow; she had belted her clothing at the hip and had many rings on her fingers. Her shoes were tooled leather and had once been red.
San-Ragoz made her a reverence. "My greetings, Csimenae. "
"How can it be?" She recovered from her momentary stupefaction and was now glowering at him. "You left a century ago. "
"That I did. Circumstances have brought me back. " He paid no heed to her conduct.
"What are you doing here?" Chimenae demanded; there was no welcome in her voice or gladness in her face.
"I am hoping to get into Frankish territory," he said candidly. "I came here in search of shelter. "
"And you thought you would find it? In this place?" She laughed and began to advance again, her movement swaying and sensuous. "I had almost forgotten you. I assumed you were dead. It was so long ago that you left. "
"A century, as you said," he acknowledged with a shrug. "Not so long a time for us. The blood-bond will tell you when I have died the True Death. Until then, you may assume I am. . . alive. "
She chose to ignore this kindly admonition; she raised her head with imperious style. "My clan is coming. You should be out of sight. "
"Why?" he asked bluntly.
"Because they do not know you; you do not belong here," she told him, her hands on her hips. "You are a stranger. "
Now San-Ragoz was genuinely shocked. "A stranger? How can I be that, when it is my blood that gives you life?"
"You left," she said, and came up to him. "You went away. My blood rules here now. "
"As you should have done," San-Ragoz said. "You should have left these mountains eighty years ago at least. "
Whatever her reply might have been, it was stopped as the first of her tribe came hurrying up the slope, two with raised swords; there were others close behind. Chimenae swung away from him and faced them. "Stay back!"
Aulutiz was in the lead, and he very nearly ignored his mother's command as he rushed at San-Ragoz. "You again!" he cried out.
Chimenae reached out and grabbed the young man's shoulder as he attempted to go past her. "You knew he was here? When did you see him?"
"We happened upon him," said Aulutiz. "Twice. " He shot a look of reproach at San-Ragoz. "He said he is Sanct' Germain. I told him to leave. "
"Why did you say nothing to me?" Chimenae demanded, forcing Aulutiz to face her as she spoke. "I should have been told as soon as you found him. "
"I thought he would be gone by now; most men obey us when we give them an order," he replied, looking shamefaced and annoyed. "Why should I speak of him? He is just a ragged stranger. "
"Sanct' Germain returns and you do not suppose I would want to hear of it?" Chimenae asked incredulously.
Aulutiz feigned indifference. "If he is Sanct' Germain. "
The others of Chimenae's tribe had arrived; they stood in a half-circle, many of them uneasy, as Chimenae announced brusquely, "He is who he says he is. " This grudging concession brought a few of her clan anxiously watchful.
"He dug up an old chest last night, in Mont Calcius," Aulutiz went on. "It had earth in it, just earth. "
"So that is what you wanted," said Chimenae as she rounded on San-Ragoz. "Well, now you have it, take it and go. " She pointed down the slope. "There is a track over the mountains that will bring you into Tolosa. The snows are retreating and the passes will soon be open. It will be hard-going, but not impossible for you to cross. You are not wanted here any longer. I have no more use for you. " Then she gave her full attention to the clan gathered around her.
Watching them, San-Ragoz saw that there were thirty-eight of them and that twenty-seven were male. None appeared to be more than thirty years of age; two looked somewhat younger than Aulutiz. He observed how Chimenae dealt with them, showing the greatest favor to her son and doling out smiles and frowns to the rest, modifying her praise with a challenging glance, her rebuke with a sympathetic tone of voice and always watching the others, measuring their reactions. He was troubled by her deliberate way of playing one off against another, and the eager, jealous manner in which her clan scrutinized every nuance of her attentions.
"What fare tonight?" Aulutiz asked, standing back from his mother.
"We hunt," said one of the younger men, grinning in anticipation as he reached out and slapped Aulutiz on the upper arm in a show of camaraderie. "It is our night. "
"And for me?" Chimenae asked, looking past her son.
"Canthis is providing the two-legged goat tonight," said one of the older of her group. "The village has chosen him-he will be waiting at midnight. We will bring him here. For you. "
"Very good; he should last a fair while," Chimenae approved. "We will leave more game at Canthis' gates for a time, to show our gratitude. "
"Better be certain that the other villages do not expect such favor," warned another. "Some of the villagers are not complying with our wishes as they used to do. They say we have taken too much. "
"They have brought their cups of blood," said Aulutiz. "Time to fear them when they no longer leave offerings. "
Chimenae laid her hand lightly on his shoulder. "True enough. But better still, let us remind them now that if they do as we ask, they will benefit from our hunting. If they refuse the little we require, then they will pay the price. "
Several of the clan around her laughed at her words; one man shifted uneasily, as if trying to summon up the courage to speak.
"The last two-legged goat was left as you ordered, in the circle where he was offered," said one of the females, a tall, angular young woman with a slight cast in one eye.
"You made certain he was fully dead?" Chimenae asked.
"Beyond all doubt," said the young woman.
"We took him to the shrine down the mountain," said Aulutiz quickly, all but stepping in front of the young woman.
"That was not a shrine," San-Ragoz said, his voice not loud but penetrating. "You left a man dead on a midden. "
Aulutiz swung around to stare at San-Ragoz. "Do you say I lie?"
"I say you left a drained and staked corpse on the midden at Mont Calcius: you may have done something else with another dead man. " San-Ragoz ducked his head. "I saw the body, or I would not doubt you. "
"That was another," said Aulutiz, shrugging to show his indifference. "We came upon earlier, when we were hunting with Achona and Tamosh. "
The angular young woman sho
ok her head. "Aulutiz, you are a greedy one. "
"Not greedy," Aulutiz countered. "I know it is good to hunt. You had other game to pursue; I went with Ennati and Cossadin and Wembo. We found better game than you. "
Achona pointed her finger at him. "You know we must leave game for the villages or they will not put out the cups filled with blood to honor our pact. "
"Well said, Achona," Chimenae approved. "And a good warning for all of you. " She gave her son a reproachful stare. "How could you, of all of our blood, forget yourself so?"
"I did not forget myself," Aulutiz protested, his voice rising with emotion. "We were hungry. You do not let us have enough. "
Chimenae spoke more severely. "You do not mean that you defied me, do you?"
The others were held in fascination as mother and son wrangled; San-Ragoz shook his head slowly, reading the situation with a practiced eye.
"I did not defy you. I hunted twice in a night, with two different bands, to feed this clan. " He tugged at his ill-assorted clothing. "You have done the same yourself, many times. "
She shook her head. "Not since our numbers grew beyond fifteen. It was different then, my son. Things have changed. " She went and stroked his cheek. "You have been an impulsive boy for all your days. "
Aulutiz tried to pull back, but without success. "I didn't do anything wrong. " He was staring at the ground.
"Not purposefully, no; you would not," she agreed, her tone caressing. "But you still failed to obey me. "
There was a subdued, general gasp. The man with something to say stared down at his feet, looking abashed.
"You never told me that I could not do this. You never did. " Aulutiz seemed absurdly young as he stood before his mother, his youthful mien and breaking voice making it easy to forget that he had been a vampire for more than eighty years, and that he had been part of the clan since its founding. "I have a right to feed twice in a night if I have the chance. "
"No!" She slapped him hard, twice, and then fixed her hands in his shoulders. "You do not receive favors beyond the rest of the tribe! You do not give preference. That is for me to do. "
"Until I am leader?" he asked, suddenly very cool. "As it was in Mont Calcius?"
She released him, her temper controlled as quickly as it had flashed. "That was different," she said coolly, ignoring all but Aulutiz. "You and I held that place for as long as we could. We should be there still. It was yours by right. "
"So you say," Aulutiz said, his sullenness returning.
"Well, and do you say you would rather have stayed, nothing more than a woodsman, until you died?" She looked up as if the others had just this instant arrived. "You must all pardon me. I have not received you well. "
The clan responded a number of ways, some of them disclaiming any awkwardness, some with apparent disinterest, a few with avidity; the man who wanted to speak shook his head in frustration. Finally Achona spoke for them all: "You made us, we are all in your debt. "
San-Ragoz felt disconcerted; he had no desire to witness any of this. For this, he agreed with Chimenae-he was an outsider and had no place in any dispute.
Finally the man trying to impart some news gestured clumsily. "You should know-all of you should know-that there are soldiers of the Caliph on the roads. "
This information was welcomed gladly; as dismal as the message was, it was preferable to this dissension. The clan swarmed around the man who had spoken, eager to hear something that would end the confrontation.
"Why should they be here? Are they coming to subdue the villages of the region?" Chimenae asked the questions sharply.
"They say they are chasing a run-away slave, but that cannot be possible; there are too many of them and they are armed well," said the man with a knowing hitch of his shoulders. "There must be some other reason. "
"What number are they?" Chimenae came up to the man.
"I saw them camped," he said, unable to conceal a smug smile now that he had finally made his revelation. "Last night. There were sixteen in the company I counted. That included sentries and slaves to tend to them and their horses. " He looked around him, as if aware for the first time that he commanded so much attention. "They carry lances, and they wear silk," he added.
"And what more?" Chimenae pursued. "How many horses?"
"Twenty, that I saw," the man answered.
Chimenae's expression grew eager and sly. "Do you know where they are tonight?"
"Five thousand paces below Canthis," said the man. "I followed them this evening, as soon as I woke. They do not move as fast as we do. "
"Then we must have the two-legged goat from Canthis quickly," said Chimenae at her most decisive. "And we must take some of the horses from the soldiers. But not quite yet; not tonight. Tomorrow, perhaps, or the night after. " She glanced toward San-Ragoz. "If you can catch a horse, you may have it to carry you out of this region. We will not take it for our food. "
"More Holy Blood?" San-Ragoz managed a sardonic smile.
"Yes," said Chimenae, turning around to face him. "Would you-of all men-say that blood is not holy?" She expected no answer, so did not wait for one; she faced her clan once again. "Fetch the two-legged goat, and see that you leave more game for Canthis tonight. " She went up to Aulutiz. "I need you, my son, to go to with Edic to the Moors' camp. I want them watched at all times. Do nothing that will rouse them: that will be for tomorrow night. Tonight we watch and plan. You will be my eyes for me. "
Somewhat appeased by this show of faith, Aulutiz nodded to Edic. "We will do it. "
Edic, satisfied with himself, gave Aulutiz a sign of agreement. "I will show you where they are. "
"Very good," Chimenae approved. "Then let it be now. The night is ours. " She lifted her arms. "Bring me the two-legged goat, then show our gratitude to the villagers of Canthis. " With strong gestures that San-Ragoz suspected were ritualized, Chimenae sent her tribe pelting away down the mountain into the night and the forest. When they were gone, she faced San-Ragoz. "You do not wish to go with them?"
"No," he said calmly. "I do not. " He remained where he was, his thoughts still vexed by what he had seen.
"They will be back before midnight," she said, a speculative light in her eyes.
"With your two-legged goat," San-Ragoz said with distaste.
"You do not approve?" She was almost teasing him, as intensely aware of him as he was of her.
"You know I do not," he said. He saw a mocking satisfaction flicker in her eyes, then fade as quickly as it had come.
"Then are you intending to admonish me for what I am doing?" She achieved an edgy grin.
"Why should I bother, when you have no inclination to listen?" There was sadness under his banter; he waited for her to go on.
"You believe what we are doing is going to be harmful to us," she said. "Because it was harmful to you at some time in the past. You suppose your misfortune will be our misfortune as well. "
The recollection of the oubliette two millennia ago, and the monthly victims, returned full force. "Yes. " He gazed at her impassively. "But what is the point of trying to convince you? You have no intention of changing, or of listening to me, have you. "
"No. " Chimenae could not resist teasing him. "But who knows: you might change my mind. "
San-Ragoz regarded her in silence for a short while, then said, "I may be of no use to you, not now, not here. " His voice was unexpectedly gentle. "Those of us who live long travel far. "
"So you have said, and yet, I am still alive, and I have traveled only twenty thousand paces from where I started out," she said, her feet set apart and her arms folded.
"You are only a century old," he reminded her with kindness.
"And that makes me a child in your eyes," she said, baiting him.
He shook hi
s head, unwilling to enter the contest. "You have much to learn. "
Again her temper ignited. "You, of course, are the judge of it!" She lifted her hand to strike him, then lowered it. "No. You will not best me. You will not. "
"I am not trying to," he told her. "I am concerned for you, and for those you have made of your blood. "
"You envy our numbers, and our strength, and the land we hold," she said, convinced she had the answer to his apprehension. "One day, we shall be an army. "
His answer was low, almost soothing. "I envy nothing. " His dark eyes met her black ones. "You will never be an army. The living will see to that. "
"Ha! They cower at our name. They cull their villages for the weak and infirm and let us rid them of their burdens. We are as useful to them as they are to us. They accept the game we bring them. " Chimenae gave a sigh of ill-usage. "You do not know how it is in these mountains. You do not-" She stopped. "What use is it to argue with you? You will not listen to anything I say. " With that, she walked a short distance away from him and stood facing the flank of the mountain. "Here we have old ways; very little changes. "
"You have been putting out cups of blood for centuries," San-Ragoz suggested, his eyes on her.
"We did, long before the Romans came-the Christians did not like it, so we did it infrequently and in places they would not go, but we never stopped, not entirely. It will not stop now that the Moors are here, or after they are gone. " She lifted her hands above her head as if to call down the forces of the earth and sky upon her. "We have always known that blood is sacred. "
"And you are not alone in that knowledge," San-Ragoz said, coming after her and speaking softly. "Csimenae, listen to me: you cannot continue to increase your numbers and your demands on the villagers and shepherds who live in these mountains. You may not need much to sustain you, but your numbers are too great to sustain. If those you prey upon do not revolt, your clan will. "
"You are ridiculous," she said.
"It will come sooner than you think," he went on, striving to reach her, and certain that if he had tasted her blood all those years ago, he would be able to. "You believe Aulutiz will remain a child because you wish him to be, and because he retains the look of youth-but you delude yourself. He will not always be content to capitulate to you, and others will take their course from him. "
"They may be rebellious from time to time, but they are loyal," said Chimenae in a tone of voice that closed the matter. "The Moors: what do you know of them?"
He did not try to return her to the previous subject. "The Moors in general, or the soldiers particularly?"
"Either. Both. " She looked steadily at him. "Why would the Moors come into the mountains?"
"They wish to conquer the Frankish lands for their Caliph and their Prophet, as others have done before them," said San-Ragoz.
"Do you know much about the Moors?" she asked suddenly, her face revealing more than she knew. "You could tell us about them, if you went to watch them. You could let us know what their intentions are. " She smiled and held out her hand to him. "You would be useful to us, if you would do that. We would not have to drive you out at once. Providing, of course, that you are willing to report all you learn to me. To me, Sanct' Germain, and no one else. "
"And what will you tell your tribe?" he asked. "They heard you order me to depart. Do you reckon they will accept your change of mind simply because you have changed it?"
"I will tell them you understand the language of the Moors. " She paused. "Do you understand it?"
"Yes," he said.
"Then you will be our watcher. I do not ask you to go among them, only too listen. " She studied him. "If you will do this, you remain with us yet awhile. "
He did not like the bargain, but he made a gesture of concession. "I will listen for you. " He would have done as much for himself; to extend himself to Chimenae to this extent did not trouble him too greatly.
"My clan will understand. You are useful to us. When they bring me the goat, I will tell them. " She nodded, confirming her decision. "They will appreciate that, and once they know you will watch the soldiers. . . " Her voice faded.
San-Ragoz could see her distress, and involuntarily took a step forward. "What is it?"
"You could betray us to them," she said abruptly. "You could inform the Moors that we are going to attack them, and they would be ready for us. Those who survive would be yours to command. This clan would follow you as they have followed me. " She slipped away from him, keeping a distance between them.
"I do not seek a clan. You know this. " He sighed as he recognized her disbelief. "There is another reason you may believe I will say nothing to the Moors, one you may find more persuasive. "
This extenuation caught her curiosity. "What would that be?"
He took a deep breath. "I will not approach the Moorish soldiers because I am the one they are hunting. "
Text of a report from Karif ibn Azim ibn Salah near Usca to Timuz ibn Musa ibn Maliq in Karmona.
In the name of Allah, the All-Seeing, the All-Compassionate, the All-Protecting, I Karif ibn Azim ibn Salah, set this down for the use and intelligence of Timuz ibn Musa ibn Maliq. May I be struck blind and dumb if I misrepresent my findings in any way, or seek to mislead Timuz ibn Musa ibn Maliq through my report, submitted at the new moon as required.
In regard to the escaped slave, San-Ragoz, we have, in accordance with the orders of Numair ibn Isffah ibn Musa, your nephew and son of the Emir-may Allah give him long life, weak enemies, and many healthy sons-continued our search for him. We have crossed the Iberuz at Zaraugusta and have learned that a man meeting his description was kept in a cell here some days ago. He said he was fulfilling a religious vow, and had to continue for the sake of his faith. The Imam, Dawud ibn Jumah, saw him and heard him in his court. Because San-Ragoz said he had taken a boat to cross the river in order to preserve in a religious pilgrimage, he was given five lashes with the short whip and released; there was no reason to detain him at that time. The Imam further told us that there was no sign of any brand on San-Ragoz's shoulder or he would surely have been held in their prison.
It is said that this San-Ragoz is a great physician and if he is able to erase scars, this must be so. We will amend our dispatches regarding him to state that the slave-brands may be missing. However, if San-Ragoz is bound for Usca and the pass beyond-and it is the safest road-he may be far enough ahead of us to keep us from being able to catch him before he reaches disputed territory, at which point our task will be far more difficult. It may be that our horses have brought us here faster than he can walk, but in such mountains, it is unlikely that we shall overtake him if he is still ahead of us.
If Allah wills, our pursuit will succeed, if Allah wills otherwise, it will fail. I feel I must say that it is capricious of Numair ibn Isffah ibn Musa-may Allah give him long life and many worthy sons-to put so many soldiers at risk for the return of one slave, no matter how accomplished that slave may be. I do not intend to be insubordinate, but for the protection of my men, I am moved to ask you, and the Emir's son, to reconsider our task. Once San-Ragoz reaches the high mountains-which he may well have done already-our efforts must be redoubled and redoubled again to find him. There are many little valleys and remote towns where San-Ragoz may take shelter. Many of these places are so isolated that years may go by without any outsider coming across them. Some of them were hardly known to the Romans, let alone the western Goths who have held the region for generations. If San-Ragoz has found such a place, we might require a long time to root him out, time that could be better spent in the field under the banner of the Prophet. In searching for this one escaped slave, we may be inadvertently aiding the enemies of Islam. While I do not wish to make decisions for Numair ibn Isffah ibn Musa, I cannot help but believe the soldiers of the Emir and the Caliph may be better used than pursuing a sin
gle slave.
I have divided my men into three units of twenty each, with a horse-handler for each group, and I have assigned each group a portion of the mountains to search. A few have already suffered injuries and have been brought back to Zaraugusta for care, and we have lost ten horses. So long as it is the will of Numair ibn Isffah ibn Musa that we continue this hunt, we will do so, but I fear I must tell the Emir's son that the recovery of this slave may be costly indeed.
This will be brought to you, Timuz ibn Musa ibn Maliq, by courier, and your reply brought back to us by the same.
At the new moon, from the valley east of Usca,
Karif ibn Azim ibn Salah
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