Capcir Spring (2 page)

"What are you doing here?" John asked looking round at her belongings scattered at her feet.

"Historical research," she replied. "I'm completing my PhD and this ruin is a crucial part of the argument that I am making about the last Cathars in the Pyrenees." John sensed as she was speaking, that, somewhere beyond her calm and rational façade, she was still quite disturbed by her recent bad dream. But he knew better than to reveal his intuition.

"Would you like a drink?" Asked John, slipping his rucksack off his back and pulling out an unopened bottle of mineral water. She accepted thankfully.

"I think I had better finish for today. I must remember to bring my hat up with me the next time I come up here. I can't always count on good Samaritans passing with mineral water bottles helping out women spent too long in the noonday sun!" After a pause she added, "Perhaps you'd like to walk back to Les Angles with me if you are headed in that direction."

"My Pleasure" John agreed, genuinely grateful to have some friendly English conversation after the first eight days of his French exile. John crouched down to help her gather her belongings and as he did so he realised that he was looking straight into the front of her loose fitting cotton shirt. He froze momentarily, his eyes transfixed on the smooth rounds of flesh that he saw above the fancy white lace. He looked hastily down at the file he was reaching for and roughly brought his thoughts into the present. Keep control he thought to himself. She had not noticed and together they collected up the scattered possessions. She slung the large rucksack easily onto her shoulder and together they strode out along the path down the valley heading back towards the village.

At the back of John's mind an alarm bell was starting to ring. Watch out. Here is an attractive young woman alone with me in an isolated place. Derek wouldn't like this. Thoughts that John had successfully suppressed for weeks had begun to surface from the deep recesses of his subconscious. Those thoughts and feelings from the deepest and darkest backwaters of his mind usually only dared to creep into his consciousness in the long, dark, sleepless hours of his many restless nights. But John's training was good. He pushed the inappropriate thoughts back down to the depths where they belong. He concentrated on the present moment. The present moment is all that exists. I will stay in control. I'll prove to Derek the sort of man that I am. The light has overcome the darkness and the darkness will never overcome it.

*****

Derek's office must have been set out with the intention of intimidating those he interviewed. Derek rarely interviewed anyone unless they were to be splattered on the carpet. John knew that he should have felt well and truly splattered but he had known Derek too long and too well for these tricks to work. The chair he had been politely offered was slightly too short for the desk he was seated facing to be comfortable. The height difference was not so exaggerated that one would notice initially. Everyone who faced Derek's desk had to look up to him. As he was over six feet three inches tall he had become used to almost everyone looking up at him. The high Gothic window behind the desk faced south and its brightness would often obscure Derek's facial features. John didn't understand why Derek had to play these games to establish superiority. His physical bulk was enough to intimidate most people. John had seen Derek's imposing presence regularly over the years. It was a combination of his height, broad shoulders and the raven black hair invariably plastered onto his scalp with a glossy mass of Brylcream. Derek never had to resort to power dressing to achieve the image he wanted to portray.

Derek was getting older. John tried to count the grey hairs visible among the black. He reached thirty five in one long pause in the conversation. He then started wondering if Derek was using a dye to cover up the grey. Perhaps in ten years he would have lost some of the vitality that could wither a person in their shoes. Whatever field of enterprise Derek had chosen as his vocation he would have dominated, both by his presence and his persistent bullying nature, backed up by a first class mind, piercing intelligence and razor sharp intuition. This combination sometimes confused people but Derek had used his powerful reasoning to gain maximum benefit from his inborn intuitions. He had accurately been described as a tyrant dressed in lambs clothing. His clerical collar often lulled those first introduced to him into a sense of awe rather than terror.

Today it almost seemed as if he were trying to be kind. His iron words were sweetened by a sugar coating. John had refused to rise to the frequent provocation made to him and after a prolonged pause in which both stared at the other, neither embarrassed by the lack of words and both understanding the other completely, Derek said,

"You have been under supervision here at the seminary for about a month. I think you have resented every minute. You haven't responded to anyone who has tried to help you or even let anyone get close to you. Until you decide to help yourself there is nothing we can do for you. I am quite confident though that you are not a danger either to yourself or to others. So I have made up my mind. This is what you will do. You will go away for a few months. Abroad, somewhere remote I think would be best. For you're own good you must learn to be alone. Learn to live without others and learn to live with yourself. Only you can see if your vows are really too much for you. Get some healthy outdoor exercise and get some rest. I think you are spiritually exhausted by the recent tragic events at the centre and you can't think for yourself about your future. All I ask is that you consider all I've said today and don't think you've got off lightly. Remember my protection is dependent on your reformation and good behaviour. It can be withdrawn instantly if I feel my magnanimity has been misplaced. When you are ready to give me an answer about what you want to do write to me."

Derek picked up his pen and started writing. The interview was terminated forthwith. There was no pretence of farewell pleasantries and no soft words.

John stood and made for the door. With his hand on the handle the voice from the desk softly and menacingly said, "If there is a next time I will not do anything to help you. You will be finished. Your name will be removed from the history of the order and it will be as if you never existed. You will be thrown to the wolves of the world. And you will be entirely on your own. Period."

Derek's last word had John smiling as he closed the door behind him. Derek had obviously picked up the word "Period" from his stay in the Chicago house of the order. It seemed to John to be an incongruous word to come from Derek's English catholic boarding school accented lips. John had to struggle to stop himself from laughing out loud as he exited the building.

The details of the trip were put into place very quickly. John spoke French passably so a remote French resort out of the tourist season would be ideal.

Two days later he was on a plane to Perpingan and then on the little yellow narrow gauge train up the valley high into the Pyrenees. The train crossed deep gorges on spindly suspension bridges and offered spectacular views of old castles and the fortified town of Villefranche before it eventually chugged up onto the plateau of Cerdagne and arrived at the Mont Louis station. John then took a taxi then to the chalet at a ski resort on the Capcir Plateau called Les Angles. The Capcir plateau is a glacial basin between the solid mountain peaks of Carlit in the west and of Madrès in the east. Extensive pine forests cover the slopes of the mountains and go down on the plateau to the poor rough mountain grass fields on the edge of the villages. In the forests of the plateau there are numerous small valleys and lakes. The River Aude, arises from her source in the area of Bouillouses, crosses Capcir plateau, filling the reservoirs of Matemale and Puyvalador on the way. This river then flows down through narrow gorges towards the plain of Languedoc.

In this area the altitude and the cold make life difficult. The traditional economy was based on the breeding of cattle and the exploitation of the forests. With the decline of these centuries old activities, due in no small part to the harshness of the life in Capcir, rural migration started. Since the nineteenth century, the plateau has lost 70% of its population. The forest has reclaimed many abandoned meadows of long forgotten farms. But a revival has come to the area from leisure activities. From 1960, several communes created their own small ski resorts. The pistes, snow-covered for many months and with a season extended by snow canons, allow the practice of the both Alpine skiing and the Scandinavian cross country skiing through the winter. Capcir has become one of the major centres of ski touring in the Pyrenees.

Les Angles is both ski resort and a summer holiday centre. The traditional stone built mountain village has, in recent decades, been surrounded and enlarged with the development of hundreds of new apartment blocks and chalets. These holiday homes are unoccupied for most of the year with the exception of the ski season and the months of July and August. In the centre of the village is a large modern swimming pool, sports centre and ice rink, but being early May, the centre was closed. There was a post office and supermarket that also acted as bakery for the all year residents but the restaurants, ski shops and boutiques were all closed. John had rented the chalet for two months. Here was a peaceful place. The village was deserted. The locals had finished making money from the skiing season and were taking a break before the July influx from the cities.

John had heard that the Capcir plateau and hills were excellent for walking. There were gentle hills and forests in all directions from the village with well maintained way-marked tracks. And there was sunshine. The advertising literature said this was the sunniest region of France. Indeed it was very close to some huge solar furnaces that John saw advertised in the tourist office and made a mental note to visit. Here he thought, was a place he could relax and be himself. If only he could find out again who he really was.

He could survive in French and he knew that he would be very unlikely to meet any English speakers. The language barrier should protect him from becoming involved in any significant relationships for the duration of his stay.

*****

Regain control. The light has overcome the darkness and the darkness will never overcome it. The cloud that had hung heavily inside John's head lifted as suddenly as it had appeared. No alarm bells were ringing now.

"I'm here for a long break as I've had problems with my health." John found himself saying. It wasn't so much a lie he consoled himself, as a slight twisting of the truth.

The path curved away before them through the trees back towards the village. They spoke to each other sparingly after the bland introductory small talk, each unsure of how much to reveal to the stranger so recently met.

"What line are you in?" Mary asked, turning her head slightly towards him as she spoke.

"Social work most recently," John added perhaps a little too quickly, "But I'm interested in your subject. I studied some theology and church history in my youth." Why he thought couldn't I have said I'm a priest? Is it something I'm ashamed of? Or am I ashamed of my failure to live up to such a calling? Or am I preparing myself to say I was once a priest? But before John could continue this line of thought she said,

"The Cathars? You've heard of them?"

"They were some sort of heretical sect weren't they, many centuries ago. They were concentrated in the south of France. The inquisition finally wiped them out as it did most of the early heresies. That's all I know"

"Impressive. The first Englishman I meet for three weeks has a basic knowledge of the subject I've dedicated the last two years of my life studying."

"What's the connection here? I thought they were concentrated in towns like Albi where they built some huge Romanesque cathedrals."

"When in 1208 Pope Innocent iii launched a crusade against the Cathars in Southern France I believe some of the most fervent groups went up to the hills, bringing with them their most prized manuscripts and possessions. The place where you found me is called Iglesiettes. You will probably have seen the name on the map. Iglesiettes means little chapel in Catalan. There once was a settlement here with a small stone chapel. I'm trying to prove that this was one of the mountain refuges where the Cathars escaped from the crusade.
The Pope attempted to force the local ruler Raymond, count of Toulouse, to join him in putting down the heresy, but this ended in disaster. The pope appointed Pierre de Castelnau, a Cistercian, as his legate and inquisitor against the Cathars. He had the mission to persuade Count Raymond VI of Toulouse, who was allowing the heresy to spread throughout his domain, to recant. When Raymond was less than cooperative Pierre excommunicated him, placing the whole Languedoc region under interdict, which aroused grave opposition. Pierre was assassinated in January 1208, supposedly by Raymond's instigation, and in response to this act Pope Innocent launched the Albigensian Crusade, a holy war in which Toulouse was ravaged and its inhabitants, Cathar and non-Cathar alike, were massacred. This crusade involved an army led by a group of barons from northern France ravaging and massacring throughout Provence. This was followed by a more orderly persecution sanctioned by St. Louis IX, in alliance with the Inquisition, and was more effective in breaking the power of the Cathars. In 1244 the great fortress of Montségur near the Pyrenees, a stronghold of the Cathars, was captured and destroyed. The Cathars had to go underground, and many of the French Cathars fled to Italy, where persecution was more intermittent. The Cathar hierarchy faded out in the 1270s but traces of the heresy lingered through the 14th century and finally disappeared early in the 15
^th
century.
"