Portal to the Past

Squat, ugly and impregnable, the fort was constructed on the edge of the cliff so that it overlooked the caravan route which wound its tortuous way from the rugged, arid, wind-scoured lowlands to the greener plains of the of the escarpment. "Promised Land" it may have been, but its foreboding air filled the meagre garrison with occasional doubts as to the true impregnability of the clay brick walls which surrounded their quarters and the compound.

Established years previously to guard the most direct route for the Christian armies to follow, the fortress had originally housed a garrison of two hundred men, but over the years the numbers had diminished as fewer zealots made the pilgrimage to the Holy Land to combat the Islamists. As well, the caravans had passed without incident and there had never been an attack on the incoming armies, so reduction in the guardians was to be expected. Dreary routine filled uneventful days, broken only by the supply caravan which arrived each month, or the occasional appearance of a nomadic Arab who invariably avoided approaching the fort, or the even rarer appearance of a small contingent of foot soldiers who appreciated the days of rest before continuing their quest eastwards. News was eagerly sought of distant homelands but in some cases the newcomers did not even speak the language of the garrison.

Then out of the east, distant billowing dust clouds heralded the arrival of the hamsin although it was a month or so earlier than usual. Strangely, the winds had not increased over the next two days, but the dust cloud advanced menacingly towards us. Then on the morning of the third day, the sentries could not believe their eyes. It appeared that banners and tents of the Saracens formed a continuous line from horizon to horizon. Not a sound came from the horde. No horns blared. No shouts of men. No noise from animals, although they must have been there. Silence hung in the air. Menacing silence. No signs of life. No scouting parties. No advancing phalanx. Nothing but the tents and banners.

And so the siege began.

Water had always been a problem so was rigidly rationed. Food supplies were limited and panic gripped the garrison, when from their vantage point, they helplessly watched the massacre of every man and animal in the supply convoy. Then the granary was invaded by rats. Rats unlike anything they had experienced before. They descended in their hundreds till their squeakings and scratchings throughout the day and night haunted the men. With the grain consumed, the rats’ voracious appetites were only satiated by attacking the men while they slept.

Nightmares of being totally devoured by giant rats became common, but worse were the infections and fevers brought by the rats. Sun scorched skin peeled from gaunt bodies while cracked and bleeding lips sought liquid by sucking on smooth stones to promote sparse saliva. Fever-wracked bodies deteriorated quickly in the dry heat of approaching summer and imaginations ran riot. Gusts of wind during the night caused eerie whistlings and screamings around the parapets and revetments and these cries were joined by those of the nightmare-tortured men who had endured weeks of siege from the surrounding Saracens.

Death was a constant companion and the meagre force was gradually depleted till less than sixty emaciated Crusaders stood guard over the pass.

Then the Saracens struck.

All of this knowledge came from records maintained both by the Saracens and the Crusaders and having read and reread the records, we were well-prepared to begin the excavation of the ruins.

Pacing around the site, we could distinguish where the mud-brick walls had once stood. They had mouldered away over the centuries and now formed mounds covered by the coarse desert grasses, while beyond the boundaries of the ancient fort, we were amazed by the prolific growth of wild wheat where the heavily laden stalks bowed beneath the weight of ripening bearded kernels. Few walls remained, but surprisingly they were obviously ones where huge gateways had once stood. Timbers had long decayed, but the dimensions of the arched openings were similar to those of other better-preserved fortresses of the Eleventh Century.

For weeks, our search for surface artefacts revealed little but shards of broken pottery till one of our labourers shouted with excitement when he unearthed a broken, half buried steel blade. Our spirits soared. We were about to unearth history in the next few weeks of the dig. The key to our explorations lay in the ancient, recently found documents. Archaeology students from numerous universities pored over these translated records and tried to interpret probable locations from the ancient diagrams, so they formed our main store of informed searchers and they were allocated likely areas to search and groups of labourers whom they would supervise while they dug.

Days of digging passed without revealing anything of value, and enthusiasm began to wane till one of the students gave a cry of elation when an entire sword was unearthed. Cautious digging around the area over the next two days revealed the remains of a chain mail tunic and a headless skeleton. This relic was found in the area that would have formed the central compound, and after discussion late into the evening, it was decided that this would possibly be a fruitful location to search as it was possible that this would have been where the remainder of the garrison would have stood to resist the final attack.

Some of the simple labourers became apprehensive about digging in the areas where we had explained that we hoped to find the remains of further bodies and weapons. Ancient superstitions lurked just below the surface of their consciousness and the thought of disturbing the ghosts of the past figured prominently in their whispered conversations around the campfires. A few of them left, claiming family responsibilities and other assorted excuses which we initially believed. But with the discovery of two more headless skeletons in the next two days, the rumblings of discontent reached us and more of our labourers left. Some of them sneaked out in the middle of the night without even waiting to be paid for their labours.

More headless skeletons were revealed and in many cases battered shields bearing the emblazoned cross of the Crusades lay beside or near the bones. Shattered pikes and rusted swords were photographed where they lay and a grid-work of lines across the site recorded the exact location of every item uncovered. Tattered remnants of leather clothing or armour remained on some of the bodies and all these were catalogued.

Weeks had passed since the excavations began and the approach of summer was presaged by the first winds of the hamsin. The heads of the wild wheat began to ripen to golden yellow and brown and were buffeted by the rising winds. The humidity dropped perceptibly and the heat increased at the same time as the winds strengthened. Around the remnants of the building, dervish dances of dust devils spiralled above the excavations and the superstitions of the labourers surfaced as they saw the ghosts of the disturbed dead rise to the heavens. Within a week, almost half our labouring work-force had deserted us, till the bulk of those on site were the university students and the archaeologists.

Ripened grain fell to ground and we saw the first of the bush rats foraging for food.

We continued to dig towards the pyramidal mound in the centre of the compound, and as we went, we found skeletons lying closer to each other and in some cases one atop the other. Still, they all remained headless.

The number of rats increased and we even found that some had invaded our food supplies which were immediately dumped in a small depression nearby. This proved to be a mistake as it only encouraged more rats to the feast of unexpected delicacies.

Our time on site was rapidly drawing to a close, so the decision was made to excavate the central mound. Its unusual shape, softened over the centuries, still remained basically pyramidal and we thought it may contain something special, so the labourers were instructed to be meticulous and were under the strictest supervision of the academics.

The first skull unearthed was atop the pile and still wore the helmet of a nobleman. The macabre rictus grin of death was obvious in the desiccated leather-like skin of his face, no doubt preserved by the drying heat and winds of the hamsin when he had been killed. Horror piled upon horror as the pyramid of skulls was revealed. Some still had helmets askew on their heads, others had gaping holes where their skulls should have been, while others, closer to the exterior of the stack, still had leather-like skin, with beards and hair still attached.

And we noticed that there appeared to be even more rats and appeared emboldened by our diminishing numbers. Labourers began the ululating cries of their society and were obviously deeply affected by what they saw. They left.

Our group now consisted entirely of the archaeologists and the university students, who, although horrified by the sights, accepted them as part of their chosen field of study. Nonetheless it was a subdued group of about twenty men and women sitting around the fires that evening.

All of us retired early to our tents and lay awake listening to the whistling of the winds as they played their eerie tunes on the tent ropes, accompanied by the arrhythmic beat of the flapping tents. Sleep came grudgingly out of the darkness, but it eventually overtook all of us.

Images formed. Shapes materialised into living men locked in combat. Pikes, even the shorter ones which the Crusaders wielded were useless in the confined space and against the Saracens who swarmed over the walls and completely surrounded them, all the while screaming their obscene battle cries. One by one and two by two the soldiers were overcome. The air was filled by the cries of the wounded.

A soldier stumbled from the fray pleading for help as he clutched his entrails hanging serpent-like from his slashed belly. As he staggered, a curved sword severed his head in mid plea. On their knees, surrendered soldiers begged for mercy which was given in the form of a swift slash across the throat or a spear rammed through the chest. Above all the cries, rose the screams of those being tortured by the more sadistic of the Saracen warriors, but even these were finally stilled.

Then a scream rent the air, followed by another and another. I awoke to find that the tortured screams were mine! Screaming at the hideous nightmare of bodies weighing me down. A weight was on my chest and my horrified gaze rested on a huge rat with its beady eyes fixed on my face. With a convulsive leap I rushed from the tent to find that others were doing the same. Hysterical screams still came from some of the tents, while others disgorged ashen-faced men and women.

Shaken badly, we sought comfort in the presence of others as we huddled around the dead embers of the fires. Gradually the experiences which had brought us to this state were revealed and it appeared that we had all had similar nightmares, the reality of which would never leave us. What had led us to this?

We were educated scientists, not superstitious peasants . We had unearthed many skeletons in the past. Dead bodies held no terrors, yet here we were – all having experienced the same visions. But we all felt that what we had witnessed was REAL! This was totally inexplicable.

The winds howled about us and glittering points of light stared at us from the darkness as flickering light from the rekindled fires spasmodically illuminated the shadows, but as the sun rose, the winds dropped and we saw the last of the rats retreating to their burrows, not to reappear while we were about the ruins.

Trucks had previously transported many of the artefacts to the museums and shipping terminals for transfer to universities for further studies. And we had no desire to linger any longer than absolutely necessary.

Within two days we departed, but before we left, we had one final duty. Excavations were left unfilled but the skulls remained. Finally the decision was made to leave them there but to reinter them in a more appropriate manner. The skulls had been catalogued and laid to one side, so we excavated a grave immediately below where they had lain for the past millennium and buried them beneath one of their Crusader shields before we filled the grave and placed a broken sword at the head of the new grave. Perhaps in another thousand years a new group would excavate this site and wonder at the reasons why this had been done – or perhaps the site would remain undisturbed for eternity and the remaining walls would crumble to become just more mounds amongst the many already on the plain.

Given the key to this portal to the past, we had turned it, and proceeded through this mystical doorway to bygone years, but we had no desire to venture further nor to return.

We turned our backs and walked away, much wiser than we had been, and forever unable to comprehend our shared experiences of that night.

Strangely, there were no recurrences of our nightmares.