Capcir Spring (6 page)

John bit his tongue. He'd thought of a quip about screams in the woods but didn't think Mary would appreciate it.

"A lovely story " nodded Mary, reaching for another bottle of wine to replenish the glasses.

"That one was set far back in the time before time was measured," agreed Edouard, "but there are many other stories about the people who built the chapel. Why a chapel there you may ask when the village is on the Capcir plateau? The truth is it was nothing to do with the village at all. You have to understand that many powerful local barons controlled all of France in the 13th century. Each area had its noble family and they had their retainers and underlings and the whole system was one great hierarchy. Religion comes in to this of course. The predominant influence on the church in all the south of France were the Albigensians, called after the region of Albi where they were most numerous. They are otherwise known as the Cathars. The pope objected to the political influence over this region of the church. He probably saw the holiness lived out in simplicity by these devout people and it pricked the conscience of the wealth and trappings of the Roman courtly church. So the Pope sent in the inquisition. Now this wasn't a sudden crusade but a slow process that took over 50 years to penetrate the whole region and sweep the Cathar influences out from every section of society. Up here in the Pyrenees the inquisition took a long time to arrive. And one particular group of devout believers came up here and built the chapel and set up a sort of monastic community high in that hidden valley. They lived there self sufficiently for many decades. The villagers knew of their existence of course but they had the patronage of the nobility who were our masters in the village too so they were left alone.

"Of course the inquisition eventually arrived. By which time the power of the noble families had been considerably reduced and as a result the local people were forced into betraying the whereabouts of the Albigensian settlement. The small, secretive and devout holy group were captured, and dealt with using the full force of the inquisition. Some of the leaders were executed and the others were forced to repent of their evil heresies and sent on their way.

"There is a story that the group who came here brought with them a hoard of treasure from the big church that they had escaped from but no trace of that has ever been found. Another old tale tells of the oldest holy man leaving the settlement with two young servants to carry his holy books and they went high up into the mountains and lived the rest of their lives in a cave. But again nothing is known for sure and no proof has ever been found."

"There is a more recent story which ties in with this too. Sometime in the eighteen nineties a shepherd was spending the night up in the valley with his grazing goats. He made himself a little shelter in the ruins of what probably was the old chapel and he often spent the night there. One night there was a fierce storm and the shepherd huddled in his shelter waiting for dawn and he kept hearing unearthly howling noises. He thought of course of the story of the two women arguing in fairyland so being a superstitious person he was quite scared. Then suddenly there was a huge rumbling noise, and then silence. During this lull in the eye of the storm he went out to try to see what had happened. Even the rain had given over. A distant flash of lightening lit up the whole area of the valley and he looked and saw that the rumble had been a landslide that had exposed a cave. He ran over to it and the next flash of lightening showed him that it was a cave used to store chests and bundles that looked very old. But the storm then started up again and the rain again lashed down so he retreated to his shelter to wait until it was over but when morning came imagine his disappointment when he found the stones had moved again and there was no sign of any cave. He looked and looked all round that part of the valley but he could find no clues as to where the landslide had been. You know how the steep parts of the hillside here are. They are many huge piles of large rough boulders. He told his story in the village and he brought a large, excited crowd up with him, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact spot and so no one in the village ever believed him.

"That man never married. He became obsessed with the cave that he believed he had seen in the flash of lightening. In every spare moment of his life he would spend digging around up there, shifting boulders, poking under big rocks. He must have rearranged quite a part of the valley side and floor. It eventually became an overpowering obsession and he virtually gave up all semblance of normal life, living in the wild up there, searching for the cave an listening out for the arguing fairy voices.

Edouard paused, watching the impact his story had had on his enraptured audience before delivering his punch line. "I know that part of the story is true because the man in question was my grandfather's elder brother. He was taken away to a lunatic asylum in Perpingan in 1912 and he remained there the rest of his life. He died in 1932."

"And no one has seen sight of the treasure since?" asked John.

"Not at all. I was hoping Mary here would find our lost heritage and restore the reputation of my great uncle in the process but I suppose that is too much to hope for."

Mary switched off the tape recorder and said carefully "I've not found any signs of any caves but your last story would explain certainly the large number of big boulders moved around at the edges of the valley. They didn't look as if they were sitting where they now lie as the result of natural movement or were the ruins of any wall or building. But being levered off the cliff face in a manic search for treasure could explain things."

She cleared up the empty plates and pulled out a rolled up chart and spread it out on the table.

"This is my best estimate of the Cathar settlement layout. The chapel was this stone area in the middle, the spring here perhaps a well and this area would have been where all the houses and other buildings would have been situated. There is a ridge here and here which suggests that there would have been a stockade fence and ditch surrounding the whole settlement.. I'm having to guess at a lot but if I'm on the right track it should be possible to get a full archaeological dig arranged for next year. The houses and wooden buildings though having rotted away completely can still be uncovered and plotted and a great deal learnt about a settlement using modern archaeological methods."

John watched Edouard pore intently over the map, transported immediately into a world of his own. Monique sat quietly with a serene smile on her face while Mary removed a cover to reveal that for desert there were dishes of fresh strawberries.

"Please Edouard can you roll that up now" Mary asked " Please feel free to study my research in greater detail, but after desert." Her mind was racing. How easy would it be to tell which of the rocks were displaced in the last hundred years by this manic treasure hunter?

"Of course, but you must please let me examine this document after we have eaten. I have been visiting that area since I was a boy but I have never seen it all plotted out so carefully before. It is the relative position of the buildings and the stockade fence and the well that intrigues me. I've never put it all into perspective before and I'm trying in my mind to prepare an impression of what it may have looked like."

The strawberries were excellent and the after dinner conversation flowed freely and effortlessly. At about 11pm Edouard said that they really must go as he had an early start in the morning. He thanked Mary for sharing her research and she thanked him for sharing the legends. And Monique slipped away beside him with the minimum of pleasantries.

John was still seated on the sofa after Mary closed the door behind the French couple.

"Let me help you clear up" he said, "Its the least I can do after such an entertaining and informative evening"

"OK but I will throw you out as soon as the washing up is finished as I want to make an early start too. If I push on I reckon I can finish my fieldwork here in about another three or four days."

"And then what?"

"A few more days in local libraries and museums. The best stuff on my period for this area is split up between the university museum in Barcelona, the city museum in Perpingan and a collection in Paris. I'll take in Paris on my way home and then I've got all the writing up to do."

"And where is home for you"

"Just west of Manchester"

Mary started running the water hot into the washing up bowl. John was clearing up the remains of the table. He lifted the chicken carcass and the carving knife off the top of the cupboard beside the dining table and said, "What do you want done with this?"

Mary turned round quickly. She saw John silhouetted against the curtain lit up by the spotlight in the living area. And she saw the knife in his hand and she went to scream but no scream came. Her mouth held open in silence and then she collapsed on the floor in a faint.

John stared at her in silence for almost a full minute before he worked out what to do. He put the knife and chicken bones down and went to her side. She had turned very pale before she passed out and the look in her eyes indicated something she had seen had made her open her mouth as if to scream or shout. He bent down and she was still breathing easily. She had fallen slowly and softly and he didn't think she would have any big bruises from hitting hard objects.

He lifted her gently onto the sofa and placed a cushion gently beneath her head. As he did so he stroked her face with his fingers as if willing her to wake. It was very soft. So very soft. Her eyes flickered open and she looked up at him.

"What's happened?" she asked.

"You passed out" he replied. “one moment you were talking to me and we were clearing up the remains of the meal and the next you were on the floor.

"How embarrassing and stupid."

"It must have been the strain and excitement of this evening - or perhaps too much sun again?"

"Yes something like that I suppose must be it."

"Do you want me to call a doctor?"

"No. I'll be all right now." She struggled to get to her feet, and he offered her his hand and pulled her up. When standing she dropped the hand instantly and reached out and held the nearby table top to steady herself. "I'm fine now." she continued.

"I really think you should see a Doctor," repeated John. He was trying to forget the feel of the touch of her hand.

"Yes, well, in the morning. The medcin in the village holds his surgery from 9.30 to 11. I'll go down then. Now perhaps if you'll leave me I'll get off to bed."

"Are you sure you will be all right. I don't like leaving you after something like this."

"Perfectly" she added emphatically as she started to manoeuvre him to the door. He was beginning to sound like her mother. "Now please go. All I need is some rest. I guess I must just be overtired."

John went reluctantly to the door. He felt uneasy about leaving her, yet he felt uneasy too in case she asked him to stay. "I'll call and see that you're OK later tomorrow" he called as his parting shot from the hallway.

Mary walked back to the window and opened it fully. The cool night air swept into the room and she suddenly realised how stale the air had become from Edouard's cigars. The village looked at peace and the clear sky was filled with millions of twinkling stars.

She turned to face the messy remains of the evening in the sink. The fresh air had revived her completely and she sorted the washing up and clearing with enthusiasm so in fifteen minutes it was all done and as she closed the window she noticed the subtle scent of the flowers Monique had brought perfuming the air. She quickly transformed her couch into her bed and slipped out of her clothes and slid naked into the clean sheets.

Sleep didn't come easily, indeed she now felt more awake than she had for the latter part of the evening. Her mind was far away from her valley and her ruins and the legends. She knew she would not be dreaming of Cathars or monks or the inquisition tonight. But she also was sure that the nightmares would be equally real and terrifying though for every time she closed her eyes she was in Hampstead on a Thursday afternoon and although now many years ago it seemed closer than the events of yesterday.

3

Mary tossed and turned on her bed in the deep silence of the dark mountain village night. Every time she closed her eyes she was back in Hampstead. It was an old house with four steps up to the front door. At one time in the distant past it must have been grand but now, the plaster stucco was cracked and falling off and the door was badly needing a coat of paint. But it was home and although draughty in winter, she had made the rooms they used comfortable. It was in an area that was slowly becoming one of the most fashionable addresses in this part of London.