‘The bad news came while you were away,’ the messenger told me as he waited for me to put away the Oneirokritikon safely. ‘The Saxons have assembled a huge raiding force in the northern forests and are threatening to invade across the Rhine. The king has called a meeting of the army council.’
As we hurried through the gathering dark I wondered why I should be needed at such a high level conference. I entered the royal pavilion to find it lit by clusters of candles on tall, metal stands. The air in the tent was stifling, and there was a tense atmosphere among the dozen or so people gathered around the map table. One of them was Carolus, and beside him was Hroudland. To my relief there was no sign of Ganelon.
Hroudland saw me enter and beckoned to me to approach.
‘The king wants to know about the route you took through the mountains when you first came to Zaragoza,’ Hroudland told me.
I felt the colour rising in my face.
‘Alcuin asked me to make notes,’ I stammered, ‘but I never got round to sending them to him. I don’t have them with me now.’
The king ignored my embarrassment.
‘Tell me what you can remember.’
I swallowed nervously.
‘The road is very narrow in places but an army would be able to use it.’
‘Show me exactly where the route goes.’ Carolus was briskly efficient.
I reached out to touch the map, and then checked myself. The rough tiles had once pricked my finger and drawn blood.
‘From this side the road climbs through the foothills in easy stages. There’s a narrow pass just here.’ My finger was quivering slightly as I pointed out the exact route. ‘Once you’re over the pass, the descent on the far slope is awkward but should present little difficulty.’
‘Is the track passable for ox carts?’ Eggihard the seneschal asked. I recalled that he was in charge of supplies and stores.
‘In single file, and taken slowly,’ I said.
‘Water? Pasture? Food supplies?’ Carolus demanded more detail.
‘There are only rocks and bare slopes in the higher sections, Your Majesty. But there are several springs and wells along the route, though not in the throat of the pass itself. Beyond that, the nearest water would be a day’s travel on the far side.’
Carolus grunted. He was deep in thought. I had been forgotten. After some moments he turned to Hroudland.
‘We must get the army north urgently. That route will save us three or four days.’
The count leaned forward, and the shadow of his arm fell across the map as he pointed to a spot close to where he stood.
‘Our flank will be dangerously exposed if we don’t deal with this place,’ he said.
I looked to see what he meant. He was indicating the Vascon city of Pamplona. I was puzzled. Pamplona was too far away to be a serious threat, and though the Vascons were hostile, they were unlikely to launch a full scale attack on a large army. They would keep out of the way, glad to see the Franks retreat over the mountains. Then I remembered the count’s intense dislike of the Vascons and the ambush that had killed one of his troopers. I stole a quick glance at Eggihard. He had restrained Hroudland from attacking Pamplona during our advance into Hispania. The result had been a bitter falling-out between the two men. But now Eggihard, even if he guessed what Hroudland had in mind, said nothing. I supposed it was because he knew the count was high in the king’s favour after his stratagem to extract a ransom for the Wali of Barcelona.
Carolus accepted his warning without any questions.
‘Go with your cavalry and deal with Pamplona. Then catch up with the army. Eggihard can take command of the rearguard and cover the withdrawal through the mountains.’
I saw Hroudland’s mouth set in a grim line as he nodded, acknowledging his uncle’s instructions. There was something chilling in his reaction. My presence was no longer needed and I stepped back from the map table. Already I was trying to think of how I could avoid riding against Pamplona with the count. I had no quarrel with the people in the city. They had treated me fairly when I passed through on my way to Brittany. After what had just happened in Zaragoza, I feared that if I was again swept up in Hroudland’s plans I would only add to my sense of guilt.
*
Hroudland raised no objection when I told him that I preferred to remain with the main army as a guide. He rode off for his raid on Pamplona taking Berenger, Gerin and five hundred picked troopers with him. I did not see him again for two weeks. By then I was high in the mountains and our leading units had already crossed the pass and begun to descend the other side. Behind them straggled a disjointed, weary line of foot soldiers, transport drivers and camp followers. Saracen mounted archers were harassing our rear. Whether they were the Falcon’s men or soldiers from Zaragoza, it was impossible to tell. They would appear at first light and skulk around, sending arrows at long range. Eggihard organized sorties to ride out to drive them off. But the Saracens would simply melt away and return the following morning.