At the Eastern Gate Daniel McCaffrey 2019 1 AT THE EASTERN GATE © Daniel Joseph McCaffrey 2019 All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced without the permission of the copyright owner or his authorised agents. The author has asserted his moral rights. ISBN 978-0-9876530-7-9 Published by: Daniel McCaffrey P O Box 6280 Wellington 6141 New Zealand [email protected] 2 Contents Chapter 1 At the beginning. 5 Chapter 2 The Road to Salamanca 25 Chapter 3 The City of Salamanca 50 Chapter 4 Oporto to the Shannon 78 Chapter 5 At Clonmacnois 103 Chapter 6 A Mission 136 Chapter 7 The Road to Dublin 174 Chapter 8 At Hegeby 204 Chapter 9 The Varangian King 231 Chapter 10 On the Great river 267 Chapter 11 At The Eastern Gate 290 Chapter 12 A Decision is made 328 3 At The Beginning Chapter 1 As Aalim squinted into the sun and looked back down the dusty road at the four men, horses and mules that were in his charge, the words of Al-Hakam son of Hisham, grandson of Abd al Rahman, Emir of Andalusia rang in his ears. “It will be a hard task Aalim, a hard task but interesting.” The conversation with his lord and master had been life- changing. Then, he, Aalim Rahel, was librarian of the library of Cordoba, the Emir’s pride, the finest library in the world. That was a few days ago. Now he was charged by his Emir to go to the end of the earth to see if he could influence the trade of the northern world and the fate of a people no one he knew had ever spoken to. As he had walked over the soft carpet to the Emir’s salon that morning he had expected to deliver his usual report: a chat about new books which might interest the Emir, some intelligence on the state of the book trade, and relaying the gossip about the world outside Andalusia that might be important to the Emirate. There were only five libraries in the world in this year of 800 AD and it was his pride that none was as beautiful or held more books than the 400,000 he had under his care. 5 He walked past the sentries standing outside. “Good morning Aalim,” said the Emir, “All is well?” “All is well my lord,” said Aalim bowing low. “You have a good life Aalim,” said the Emir. “The pleasure of reading the thoughts of men wiser than both of us and the time to think about what they are saying.” “It is pleasant, my lord” he had said to the Emir. “Aalim, have I told you that I sleep more secure at night knowing we have the knowledge of the world at our fingertips? The intelligence in your books guards these walls as much as my soldiers.” Aalim was flattered. His books guarded the Kingdom; he hadn’t looked on it in that light before. It was best to be cautious in conversation with the Emir. A little small talk and some idle chatter before the real nature of the business at hand was revealed. Alarmingly, on that occasion the Emir had come straight to the point. The Emir was a dark, thickset man, and when he asked a question he had a habit of raising his left eyebrow in a pronounced manner. Unknown to the Emir, the fashion of the raised eyebrow had caught on in the city of Cordoba. When some emphatic statement was made the eyebrow was raised. It had spread to have another meaning, an expression of questioning disbelief. On that occasion both eyebrows were raised, slightly. 6 As the grandson of the legendary Al Rahman, and with the power of life and death over most of Spain, his quizzical eyebrows were keenly attended to in Cordoba. “I have concerns Aalim that will change your pleasant life,” said the Emir. “They may even involve you in some risk and discomfort.” “Indeed my lord,” said Aalim. “Tarig will join us for a few moments,” said the Emir He gestured to one of the servants who stood at strategic points around the walls of the large room; the servant ushered in the resplendent white-robed figure of Tarig el Rum, foreign advisor to the Emir. Tarig was a frequent visitor to the library, always with searching and obscure questions that he thought a book might have the answer to. He was brusque, direct and busy, quick to the point and pleased with good answers. Tarig bowed to the Emir, nodded to Aalim and took his seat. Aalim’s normally exclusive chat with the Emir had veered so far from its usual course that it was starting to worry him; the Emir in a brisk mood was one thing, but combined with the appearance of the busy all-together, no-nonsense Tarig it was becoming disconcerting. “Tarig please give Aalim your summary of events that you gave me yesterday,” said the Emir. 7 “In my report to the Emir yesterday Aalim, I raised some opportunities that we might investigate which could possibly be greatly to our profit.” They sat in the city of Cordoba at the hill edges of the valley of the Guadalquivir. To the west, south, and east on the wide plain of the Guadalquivir were fields of wheat, rye, and barley, and olive trees irrigated by waterwheels. A few miles north of the city, low mountains shielded them from the upland plains of a fertile and bounteous country. The Emir’s domain comprised all of Spain north to the rivers Douro and Ebro. The conquest eighty years ago had taken three years; after that, a squabbling political entity had ruled Spain, with no ruler lasting more than three years. Fifty years ago, the Emir’s grandfather Abd Al-Rahman had transformed the Emirate and Cordoba, creating the nearest place to paradise on earth. A prince of the Ummayads, he had fled Syria when the Abassids dynasty had taken over the reins of the Caliphate in Damascus. Arriving alone in Spain he had fused Jews, Berbers, Catholics and Orthodox, Arabs and muwalladun into a nation that lived with each other in spite of their differences. Everyone in Al-Rahman’s Cordoba lived in their own separate worlds: Sephardic apothecaries, Visigoth blacksmiths, and Greek surgeons and plied their trade in the courtyards off the narrow streets. He was fond of trade and brought the first date palms, lemons, Limes, and grapefruit, as well as almonds, apricots, saffron, and henna to the Emirate. 8 In the central market, merchants sold Persian carpets, Damascus metalware, China silks, fine leather, jewellery and slaves. He had built the great Mosque at Cordoba, and not many steps away were the public baths. The new city of Baghdad was reputed to be a place of beauty and wonder. Nevertheless, it was accepted by the known world that Cordoba held the honour of being the world’s most beautiful and civilised city. Tarig continued. “Before I discuss the potential prospects we might have, I need outline the current situation so that when we come to the possibilities on offer they will make more sense to you. I make no apologies for what will be a lengthy presentation.” He snapped his fingers to a servant by the door, and a large map was produced and placed on the small table between them. “Our principal enemy is Charlemagne. It is twenty years since we defeated him at Saragossa and Roncesvalles and chased him out of Spain.” Tarig pointed to the small Dukedoms north of Barcelona. “Duke is a nice-sounding title of respectability for a collection of freebooters, ennobled bandits and well-born ruffians who he hopes will defend their lands without him having to spend money sending an army to hold them fast.” 9 “Across this part of our frontier,” said Tarig, moving his finger to the westward side of northern Spain. “The Basques, well what can you say about the Basques. They still boast about sacking Charlemagne’s baggage train at Roncesvalles twenty years ago. “The Galician’s are still the Galician’s in their watery mountains. Their Celtic enthusiasm for battle and their geography make them impossible to conquer. “The Asturians remain as awkward as ever. They still boast about the battle of Covadonga. “None of these small, boastful kingdoms have disturbed us of late, and they are unlikely to do so without backing from the Franks. “As an aside, instead of sending armies, the Franks are sending priests to a conference in Toledo to debate one of their indeterminable religious disputes over their triangular God - There is always going to be disputes when you triangulate God don’t you think? “We have allowed them safe passage through the Emirate. Arguing priests are not as much risk as an army… “In summary, we have a stable frontier along the rivers Ebro and the Douro, and there is no sign of Charlemagne gathering armies on the other side of the Pyrenees. “Last year, Charlemagne captured Corsica, Sardinia and the Balearics. It is a disturbing development, but I share my lord’s view that it poses no threat to us. We are losing little, and they are gaining less. 10 “Over here, on the other side of his Kingdom, Charlemagne is in continual battle with the Saxons; he might claim to have conquered and converted them, but they are still fighting. “He continues his war with the Wends. He has an army in Croatia and is still fighting in southern Italy.” Tarig traced his finger along the eastern boundaries of the Frankish lands.