Fire over Calpe: The Last of the Goths and the Muslim Invasion of Spain

By James M Anderson

The Christianized Germanic Visigoths reigned on the Iberian Peninsula in the late sixth and seventh centuries until the year 711, when they were overthrown by Arabic and Moorish forces from Africa. The clash of wills between the Catholic Church and the King of the Goths for power and wealth, paved the way for an Islamic invasion, but specific details of this event have been little recorded.

In this fictional account, the Hispanic Jews, heavily persecuted under the Gothic kings and the church, serve as go-betweens for the Catholic Church and the North African Muslims. The fierce Basques in the northeast of the peninsula, the Germanic Suevi installed in the northwest, and the Franks beyond the Pyrenees, all present a constant irritation to the Goths and become unwitting scapegoats in the churchs plans to dislodge the king and replace him on the throne with a prince more sympathetic to its desires and ambitions.

This is a tale of war, lust, deceit and treachery culminating in a change of masters in Hispania. The Arabs came, conquered, and contrary to the expectations of the conspirators, they stayed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503582712

James M Anderson

James L. Anderson is a professor and chair of the Department of Environmental and Natural Resource Economics at the University of Rhode Island, Kingston, RI. His research in the area of fisheries and aquacultural economics began in 1980 with a study on the bioeconomics of salmon ranching in the Pacific Northwest. Since that time, he has been involved with numerous research projects related to fisheries and aquaculture management, seafood marketing and international trade, and seafood price forecasting. Recent work has focused on analysis of salmon and shrimp markets, and evaluating how aquaculture development and rights-based fisheries management are changing the global seafood sector. He is the Editor of Marine Resource Economics and SeafoodReport.com and has served on the Editorial Council of the Journal of Environmental Economics and Management. Currently, he serves as a Director of the International Institute of Fisheries Economics and Trade (IIFET). He was presented with the Outstanding Ph.D. Thesis Award by the American Agricultural Economics Association in 1984, Research Scientist of the Year Award by the University of Rhode Island in 1994 and the Article of the Year Award from the Editorial Board of Agricultural and Resource Economics Review in 1995. He holds degrees from the College of William and Mary (B.S.), the University of Arizona (M.S.) and the University of California, Davis (Ph.D.).

Book preview

Fire Over Calpe

The Last of the Goths and the Muslim invasion of Spain

James M. Anderson

Frontispiece:

Copyright © 2015 by James M. Anderson.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-5035-8272-9

                eBook           978-1-5035-8271-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 07/07/2015

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Contents

Prologue: The Land And People

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Epilogue

Prologue: The Land And People

In the fifth century, with the decline of Roman domination in Western Europe, Germanic tribes moved in to establish kingdoms, eventually as far west as the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. The Suevi settled in the west and northwest of the Iberian Peninsula while the Christianized Visigoths, or West Goths, installed themselves soon after in much of the remainder of the country, with their capital city at Toledo. Numbering about 300,000, they took control over a Hispano-Roman population of about four million, and in the year 584, defeated other Germanic tribes in the area including the Suevi who persisted in their villages and towns with only nominal submissiveness to Gothic hegemony, taking shelter in the rugged Cantabrian mountain wilderness of Asturias and Galicia along the northwestern coasts, defying the centralizing political policies made in Toledo.

After subduing their rivals, the Romanized Goths reigned over much of what is now Spain and Portugal, considering themselves the inheritors of that part of the Roman Empire. For the local Hispano-Roman people who had lived for centuries under civilized Roman rule, many of whom could trace their ancestry back to the Roman legions, the Goths were a culturally inferior race. Only by their superiority in the use of arms and their fighting prowess had they won political control over the dispirited Hispano-Roman population that had withered away along with the dissolution of authority from Rome.

The aloof Goths adopted Christianity and after a few generations, the Hispano-Roman language, although they practiced apartheid to maintain their pure warrior caste. They elected their kings by acclamation and from about 534 to 711, Toledo was both the ecclesiastical center and the administrative capital of the Visigothic kingdom.

The power of the Catholic Church grew, its importance and authority due in major part to its enormous land holdings. Although Visigothic nobles and church dignitaries owned most of the best land which was worked by semi-free peasants or slaves, the bishops were the great landowners and made the laws agreed upon at their synods in Toledo, thereby protecting their own interests.

The strength of the Church was also based on its political acumen. The bishops were the best educated in a world where the vast majority of people were illiterate. Church involvement in the affairs of state went back to the time when the Goths had converted from Aryanism to Catholicism about the year 589 and especially to the reign of Erwig who had poisoned his predecessor, Wamba, and paid the price for it by relinquishing authority to the clergy for their silence in the affair. Erwig was persuaded to pass severe laws against the Jews at the twelfth Ecumenical Council at Toledo in 686.

From that time on, kings were surrounded by a flock of prelates, and the Council of Bishops no longer recommended—it legislated, relegating the king to a position of power in name only. But king Wittiza, who died in 710, had cut some of the ground away from this supreme body by restoring to the rightful owners property confiscated by the Church. After Wittiza’s death, King Roderick continued the policy to re-establish the monarchy at the pinnacle of the pyramid. Nobles of the great estates provided the army when needed by amassing the workers and slaves on their vast landholdings in response to a royal summons.

The barrier running east to west of the Pyrenees mountains helped protect Gothic Spain from their enemies in Gaul, the Franks. The western end of these same mountains was the home of the Basque people, mountain warriors and shepherds who had remained mostly free of earlier Roman rule and continued their independence in defiance of Visigothic efforts to subdue them. The Basques had inhabited their mountainous homeland since the stone age. Their incomprehensible language was known to no one but themselves, and it was unwise for a stranger to attempt to traverse their territory.

The southern region of the peninsula, Betica (today Andalucía), south of the Sierra Morena mountains and bordering the Mediterranean Sea, was by far the richest and most developed area with its warm climate and fertile soil. The valley of the River Betis (now the Guadalquivir), that flowed through the region and emptied into the Atlantic Ocean near Cádiz, was particularly productive in fruit, vegetables, vines, olives and wheat. Two cities of the south stand out for their importance at the time—Córdoba and Sevilla—while the high and rugged Sierra Nevada mountains east of Granada dominated the southeastern area of the province. In the middle of the peninsula, the city of Toledo, situated high on the central plateau, plays a prominent role in this story.

The major events described in this book are loosely based on fact, and took place in the years 710 and 711, the final years of the corrupt and degenerate Visigothic kingdom of Spain. This is the story of the last Gothic king, of the ethnic hatred between Goth, Hispano-Roman, and Jew; and about the deadly struggle for power between rival factions of the Gothic nobility, as well as intrigue, ruthless cunning, and treachery of high ranking members of the Roman Catholic Church for control of the kingdom. The ambitions and manipulations of all parties concerned were cut short by the Islamic invasion from North Africa in July 711.

For the convenience of the reader, most place names are given in the modern form.

Major Participants

Achila – Prince of the realm and would-be king

Alfonso Ramiro – proprietor of the Sacred Heart Inn

Ardabasto – youngest brother of Achila

Athanagild – army commander under Roderick

Ataulfo – captain of the Royal Guard

Carmina – wife of Alfonso Ramiro
 

Egilo – wife of Roderick
 

Eliezer – first mate of Ibn Salid

Florinda – daughter of Count Julian

Fredarius – bishop of Málaga

Ibn al-Aziz – administrator of Muslim Hispania
 

Ibn Salid – Jewish mediator between Goths and Arabs

Juan – father of Carmina

Julian, Count – governor of the fortress at Ceuta

Lego – squire to Roderick
 

Leogild – army commander

Maritchou Luseak – Basque warlord
 

Musa ibn Nusayr – Arab governor of North Africa

Olmondo – brother of Achila
 

Oppa – powerful Archbishop of Sevilla

Paqui – prostitute, informer, and Lego’s lover
 

Roderick – elected king of the Visigoths

Sesigild – army commander
under Roderick

Sindered – Metropolitan of Toledo and head of the Hispanic Church

Tarik ibn Ziyad – Governor of Tangier and commander of the invading army
 

Tazela – Lady in waiting to the queen

Theudimer – scribe or secretary to Roderick

Chapter 1

Half-a-dozen riders descended from the hills, approached the city gate of Toledo, and reined in their frothing mounts. The sentry on the wall above shaded his eyes from the setting sun and peered intently at the figures below. State your business, he shouted.

I am Prince Achila, son of King Wittiza, came the reply. A hasty, muffled conversation on the wall ensued and then slowly the heavy wooden gate swung open as the prince and his companions entered the city. They had ridden nine days and most of the nights from headquarters at Huesca in the northeast where the frontier guards were quartered, protecting the mountain passes of the Pyrenees against their enemies the fierce Franks to the north.

Wending their way through the narrow cobbled streets, the riders ascended to the highest point on which stood the royal palace—a rectangular, two-story sandstone edifice. With crenelated turrets at each corner, it presented a defiant posture. The impression was one of strength, power and intimidation.

Challenged again by sentinels in the gatehouse at the entrance to the courtyard, the riders passed on, the hooves of the horses clattering on the flagstones of the square, in front of two life-size stone lions that flanked the heavy oak door of the palace. Achila dismounted and in two strides ascended the six steps and entered the building.

Inside, a large central atrium stood open to the sky in the Roman style, a fountain at its center. Around this atrium, on the lower floor, was the great dining hall on the left side, the kitchens in the rear, and on the right a long reception room at the end of which stood a stout white marble throne inlaid with gold.

Looking neither right nor left, the prince bounded up another set of stairs to the second floor and hurried along the corridor open to the atrium with its tapestries depicting hunting and battle scenes lining the walls. He strode past the royal salon, briefly glancing through the open door at the large stone fireplace and sturdy mahogany chairs and tables. On the ceiling of the salon two cherubs danced merrily hand-in-hand around a hideous man-animal with a tambourine in its paw, the work of a forgotten artist who had set these Christian-pagan images in brilliant mosaic, now tarnished and faded with years of smoke from candle and fire.

Next to the royal salon was the king’s bedchamber. In the darkening upper corridor, the guards recognized the prince, saluted, opened the door and stepped aside as Achila brushed past them into the room. The gloom inside was only marginally dissipated by candles burning cheerlessly in the damp air. The neglected fire in the chimney had turned to white ash. Wedged into an alcove at the far end of the room was a canopied bed shrouded in white lace. In it his father, the king, reposed, the transparent skin stretched taut over high cheekbones; his eyes, entrenched in the depths of their sockets, stared unblinkingly at the Christ Child stitched into the cloth above. The doctor stood near, listening to the patient’s battle for breath.

In contrast to the austerity of the surroundings, the dying man’s brother, Oppa, Archbishop of Sevilla, sat immobile by the bed, the silver chain of his crucifix lost in the folds of the purple robe covering his porcine frame. The right hand rested in his lap, the short fingers spread in deference to the large ruby ring embedded in the puffy bloated flesh of his second finger. With a pious air he surveyed the irregular undulations of the beard behind the lace, trying not to show his impatience to perform the last rites. Beside him, Achila’s younger brothers, Olmondo and Ardabasto, sat uncomfortably on wooden stools.

Achila was slender of build, of medium height, with light reddish-brown hair cascading down to his shoulders. His ice blue eyes were a sure sign of German ancestry untainted by Roman blood. The closely cropped beard on his boyish face seemed to add a few years to his twenty-two. Exhausted by his journey, the prince did not tarry long in the bedchamber but made his way to his own rooms further down the corridor where he fell into a much needed sleep.

Up at dawn the following day, he quickly dressed in his royal army commander’s uniform and returned to the king’s bedchamber. His brothers and uncle were already there and the doctor was in attendance, not having left the king’s side.

Outside, a chilling February mist blew through the streets and swirled around the balconies and turrets of the palace. The sound of horses caused Achila to peer around the edge of the drapes at the stables below where men were arriving from the country estates to gather downstairs in the reception room and await news from the bedchamber. Recognizing one of the riders as Lego, squire of Count Roderick of Betica, Achila muttered under his breath. So, the little weasel has come to scent the wind! He was well aware that Roderick had been appointed governor of Betica by Wittiza to maintain Gothic rule in that most southern province which faced North Africa, and that Roderick, who resided at Córdoba, had his own agenda. With a provincial militia at his disposal and support from most southern estate owners with their thousands of servants and slaves, and the primary threat to Achila’s ambitions, he was the rival for the throne.

Turning back toward the bed, Achila realized that something had changed. The room was deathly silent. In that instant, the doctor bent forward, pulled open the lace curtain, and laid his head to the chest of the prostrate figure inside. Oppa rose and Achila’s brothers stopped their fidgeting. The doctor straightened, slowly shook his head and stepped aside to allow the archbishop a closer look. Achila waited for his uncle to finish his prayers and then, turning on his heel, he left the room.

Bursting into the great reception hall downstairs, he stood for a moment before the long table where a company of barons, attended by their squires, were drinking and gossiping. The prattle trailed off as they turned toward him. Barely concealing his excitement, Achila announced solemnly, Wittiza, King of the Goths, is dead!

A chorus of voices filled the hall as men rose to their feet, faced Achila and lifted their cups of wine.

Hail to the King!

The young prince pulled himself up to his full height, his narrow face partly concealed by long hair. These were indeed pleasant words. But, as the voices trailed away, he grimly noted that some had remained silent. Turning now to the burly Ataulfo, the captain of the royal palace guard, Achila quietly ordered, Detain that little bastard squire Lego.

Lurking outside the door to the hall, Lego had heard Achila’s announcement of the king’s demise and had then walked quickly back to the stables to retrieve his horse. With one foot in the stirrup, he turned in response to a tap on his shoulder.

In a hurry, are you? said the Captain, his lips curled into a sinister smile displaying an uneven row of yellow teeth.

My lord awaits me, Lego answered tersely, sensing danger.

And where is your fine lord? the captain asked with a sneer. Why is he not here to pay his respects?

He will come soon enough, responded Lego as he turned and attempted to mount.

Meanwhile, my friend, Prince Achila suggests you remain here a while, snarled the captain, grabbing Lego by the back of his tunic, preventing him from dropping into the saddle.

Lego feigned compliance and began to ease down from the stirrup as the captain loosened his grip. Then, with a sharp twist, the squire’s left foot exploded in the guard’s face. Reeling back, with blood spurting from his mouth, the captain reached for his sword, but by the time it was free from the scabbard, Lego was gone. The guards at the palace gate leapt aside as horse and rider raced wildly out of the compound into the streets, scattering pedestrians to all sides. Once through the main gate of the city that remained open all day for those nobles still arriving to pay their last respects to the king, he turned his mount toward Córdoba, to the south, his master Count Roderick, and home. By the time Royal Guards and their horses were made ready to give chase, the squire was a distant speck on the horizon.

Chapter 2

As the days grew longer and wild flowers warmed by a March wind from the south began to carpet the hills, Achila surrounded himself with a coterie of faithful barons whose estates spread over the central highlands of the Hispanic Peninsula and who owed much of their wealth and power to the late king, The prince wasted no time establishing his authority in the city of Toledo. His younger brothers—Olmondo, barely twenty years old, and Ardabasto, just eighteen, were both fearful of losing their highly privileged positions as princes of the realm if someone else gained the throne, so encouraged Achila to take measures to ensure that the monarchy remained in the family. He needed no convincing. Olmondo was put in charge of the Royal Guard while the faithful Captain Ataulfo continued second in command. Ardabasto was advised to be alert for any subversive acts in the city that might undermine Achila’s authority.

In spite of his young age, the prince was accustomed to being obeyed, having been placed in charge of the frontier army by his father. Now, seated on the gilded throne in the great hall, he demanded allegiance, forbade assemblies of nobles within the walls of Toledo to forestall conspiracies; met visiting dignitaries, nobles, and high clergy, and even ordered gold coins to be minted with his profile on them. He already acted like a king. There was still the matter, however, of the election for the throne. By tradition, kings were decided by the heads of the aristocratic Gothic families and high Church officials at a general assembly—one that the young prince showed no inclination to summon.

Achila and Oppa met often. The archbishop tried to dissuade the rash young prince from hasty decisions and reckless displays of power.

These actions could jeopardize your election to the throne, he cautioned. But if the assembly of nobles meets and proclaims you as king in the fashion of our ancestors, then you will be legally secure and have the support of the people and the Church. The prince was not convinced, however And if they vote against me, what then? he demanded glaring defiantly at his uncle.

It only takes a simple majority, and I am doing what I can, Oppa responded with as much patience as he could muster for the headstrong prince.

Achila was adamant, however. The vote could go either way, and he had no intention of standing before men of lesser pedigree, asking for their favors, humiliating himself by allowing them to judge whether or not he was fit to follow in his father’s steps. Oppa tried his best to reassure him, but still the prince did not listen.

I am already king, he once muttered under his breath. A week after his father’s funeral and following a stormy session with the archbishop, he had put his face close to that of his uncle and triumphantly disclosed his trump card. The army he commanded on the northern frontier was at this very moment marching toward Toledo. With his soldiers behind him, there would be no question of who would rule.

At the news, Oppa sucked in his breath. The hotheaded, insolent pup has gone too far, he thought. Roderick will contest this coup and civil war would be inevitable.

Yes, Achila continued confidently, "I hurried on ahead at the news of my father’s illness and my army will arrive within a few weeks.

Our borders with the Franks are now left unguarded? demanded the archbishop in horror.

Achila shrugged his shoulders. Temporarily, he said indifferently.

Digesting this alarming piece of news for a minute, Oppa hit back: I suppose you realize that Count Roderick will convene the Council of Nobles himself if you fail to do so.

If he comes to Toledo, so much the better. I can then, with the troops at my disposal, relieve him of his royal ambitions, said Achila smugly.

Four days later, anxiety began to spread throughout the city as reports filtered