The de Montfort Histories - The Dove and the Devil (32 page)

Pons, meanwhile, returning to the wall where he had
left Maurina sitting, was just in time to see the cart she was in, disappearing
round the corner. The owner of the vehicle who had been so summarily relieved
of it was still standing in the road, wringing his hands and bemoaning his fate
to anyone who cared to listen!

“Did you see a young girl go from here?” he demanded
roughly, fearing the worst.

“If you mean the girl whom the friar took to the
monastery, they’ve just left. That’s them in my cart. The friar ‘borrowed’ it
because she couldn’t walk.”

“I know she couldn’t walk. She’s my sister. Where
have they gone? Which monastery?” He didn’t need to hear the answer. There was
only one monastery hereabouts and his heart sank at the thought of Maurina’s
delivery into the religious centre of the enemies of their people.
How
would she cope,
he wondered. She was, after all, only a child although she liked to
think of herself as a woman grown.

“How
far is it from here?” he demanded.

“If
you are a fast walker, about an hour. Are you going there now?”

He
was speaking to thin air. Pons had already started to run in the same direction
the cart had taken.

“Hey
wait a minute! I’ll come with you. I need to get my cart back and I don’t trust
that lot to return it. Not anytime soon, anyway”. Panting for breath he caught
Pons up. “You move fast, don’t you? What’s the hurry?”

Afraid
to arouse the man’s suspicions, Pons cast about in his mind for an answer that
would satisfy the cart owner’s curiosity. “My mother has given her into my care
and I have sworn on my life to deliver her safely into the hands of our aunt
and uncle”.

“Oh,
she’ll be safe enough with the sisters, if that’s what’s worrying you. They’re
an odd lot, to be sure. Used to be damned heretics, you know. Brother Dominic converted
them back to the arms of Holy Mother Church, praise be to God.” He blessed
himself piously while watching Pons covertly. The lad felt rather than saw the
odd looks he was receiving from the carter and he hurriedly made the same sign
of the cross that he had seen his companion make. The thought entered his mind
that perhaps this cart owner was more than he seemed so he quickened his pace
in an effort to discourage more conversation.

“You’ll
not keep this pace up for long, my lad. Best slow down. You’ll have blisters
like your sister if you’re not careful’ the man’s face was getting redder by
the minute. It was all too obvious he didn’t make a practice of walking very
far!

“I
must see she’s well cared for. My mother would have my skin if anything should
befall her little dove.

“What’s
the matter? Don’t you trust the nuns? She couldn’t be in better hands!”

Pons
didn’t reply. He could see that this man, whoever or whatever he was, was
intent on finding out more than the young man was willing to reveal. Silently
begging God’s forgiveness for the lies he was about to utter, Pons turned to
the man.

“She
has already run away once. She had a lover, an older man. He was a soldier from
the north and most unsuitable. He took her virtue and then abandoned her. It was
only God’s mercy she didn’t find herself with child. That’s why my parents are
so intent on getting her away from home.
 
I can tell you the gossip wasn’t pleasant!”

“Ah,
your point is well taken, young man.” The carter licked his lips, a mite
salaciously Pons thought. “Is she a wild one, then, your sister?”

“Not
in the least” Pons defended his sister vigorously. ‘Wild one” could aptly
describe Maurina but not in the way the carter thought of it “This man took
advantage of her, spinning her stories of the life they would live up north.
Poor girl was completely hoodwinked. We found out that he was even married and
had several children. If ever he comes near her again I will personally seek
him out and make him pay.”

 
By now Pons had made his story so convincing
he began to believe it, himself. He could only hope that Maurina would forgive
the lies he had told about her. They were the one sure way to convince anyone
that they were not Cathars. No Cathar woman would have dreamt of having
anything to do with a soldier from the north who would be one of Simon’s men
and doubtless a member of the Church of Rome.

“I
know young women can be a bit of a handful; I’ve two daughters myself. Both
finally married off and to good men. Not before time I have to say. They both
had fancies that a father found hard to control. They were man mad, not to put
too fine a point on it.
 
Comes of
not having a mother to guide them, I say. My poor wife died ten years’ ago. But
still, they are both settled now so we are all content”.

That’s more than I can say for Maurina and
me,
Pons thought, wondering when life would ever get
back to normal for the two of them.

The journey to Prouille took longer than Pons would have liked, mainly
due to the fact that the carter was unused to walking any distance at all. He
complained bitterly all the way and it was all that Pons could do not to rise
to the man’s series of complaints about the convent and its inhabitants. He
still did not trust the carter and was as non-committal in his responses to him
as he could be. It was just about impossible to know whom to trust in these
times. Neighbour had never been set against neighbour before in this peaceful
part of France but with the advent of de Montfort and his mercenaries who were
not particular about whom they killed, people had taken to giving information
to the enemy to save their own skins.
Who
could blame them,
thought Pons?
I
would do the same if my family was threatened!

        
The so-called
Daughters of Dominic, there were nine of them, Pons would find, were led by the
same woman, Raymonde Claret, who had donated her own cottage to the Church. By
dint of her donation to the convent, she had assumed leadership of the young
women who had been put into houses run by the Cathar
Bonnes Dames.
Their noble but impoverished families had known that
the ladies of Cathar persuasion would ensure that their daughters’ virtue would
remain intact and that they would be well taken care of. Despite having been
clothed and cared for by these good women, according to Dominic, they had been
saved from a fate worse than death.

Because Raymonde was nearly as assiduous as Dominic was in seeking out
any converts, Pons expected her to look guilty or shamefaced or uncomfortable
in some way. Surely her conscience must weigh heavily on her; her hero de
Montfort was spreading murder and waging war on her own people. Surely she must
see that was wrong in God’s eyes! In truth she did not look anything out of the
ordinary. It appeared her conscience didn’t bother her at all for she met his
gaze levelly, taking in the measure of the young man who stood before her. She
could see he was clearly awkward in her presence and she noticed his
unwillingness to meet her eyes.

In fact Pons could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times
he had been inside a Catholic church, or any Catholic building for that matter,
and he was definitely uneasy. It was true that he had been absolved of
wrongdoing last year, should he have to enter such a building but was it still
all right in the eyes of God? He was keenly aware that if anyone suspected his
discomfiture in this place---which represented to him the great whore of
Babylon---he would be hauled before a clerical court and made to recant his
faith!

Not knowing how to behave in a monastery or a convent as this building
was, Pons had to be guided by the actions of the cart’s owner. Looking at the
man now, the same man who had worried endlessly about the hi-jacking of his
cart and his loss of earnings, it appeared he had forgotten all his complaints.
He was doing his best to ingratiate himself with Sister Raymonde’ assuring her
that his cart would always be available for her use and the use of the other
sisters. The nun smilingly offered her thanks and turned to Pons.

“Who have we here?” Her keen gaze took the measure of the young man who
felt sure she could see his trembling knees. She noticed that he was unwilling
to meet her gaze to begin with.

“I’m looking for my little sister. This man here tells me she was
brought to you by one of your friars. Is she here?” He looked around the
convent garden anxiously seeking her out. “We must be on our way as quickly as
possible. My aunt is waiting for us in Merens and she’ll be worried if we don’t
arrive when we promised.”

“Have no fear. Maurina is safe with us. We have treated her feet but she
must stay off them for a week at least. If she doesn’t she may do permanent
damage to them. I can’t imagine what you must have been thinking of, young man,
to let her walk as far as she has! You must have walked for miles!” The
question implicit in her voice did more to alarm Pons. “Unless you have some
method of transport, a horse perhaps that she could ride, I suggest you wait
here and let nature take its course.”

“It seems we have little choice. I had not realized Maurina’s feet were
so bad. She endured the pain stoically and said nothing. I am ashamed of
myself. She was given into my care by our mother. I was to see her safely to
our aunt and now.....” His voice broke off as he caught sight of Maurina, standing
in a doorway, supported by two of the sisters.

“Come, you may speak with her. You understand that we allow few men in
here, that is, of course with the exception of Brother Dominic and his brothers
from Fanjeaux. They are always welcome here.” She positively simpered as she
spoke Dominic’s name. He comes to hear our confession, not as often as we would
like, however.”

No
, thought Pons.
I’m sure he comes as little as possible. No man would willingly allow himself
to become embroiled with you, even if you are a benefactor of the convent!

“Now you understand we cannot allow you to stay here. We are a very
small order and spend most of our time in prayer and contemplation.” Her
self–satisfied air had begun to grate on Pons, and he shifted impatiently
from one foot to the other. She was not finished, however.

“Perhaps you will be able to get a lift back to Fanjeaux where you could
beg lodgings from the good brothers. I’m sure they would not turn you away!”
She peered around, looking for the carter. Perhaps he could be of use sooner
than he had expected when he had made his expansive offer to the convent!
 

The only situation that Pons could imagine might be worse than the one
they were in now would be to find himself in the den of iniquity in Fanjeaux
that was Dominic’s house. He made excuses hurriedly, saying he would seek out
friends of his father. He did not wish to trouble the brothers especially after
the kindness of the sisters. Pons had no idea where his father’s friends were
and indeed he was not certain that any of them had survived the Devil’s
onslaught in the nearby town. Maurina’s frantic beckoning from the doorway
caused him finally to break away, excusing himself from the clutches of Sister
Raymonde.

His sister’s tear-streaked face told its own story. She had gone through
her own kind of hell. She was unused to lying and had been terrified she might
give away the fact that she was a Cathar.

“Where were you?’ she demanded. “I waited as long as I could. I thought
you were lost or had been captured. I thought something bad had happened and I
would never see you again.” She broke into heart-rending sobs as she clutched
her brother to her, completely overcome by the day’s events that had landed
them in the last place on earth they wished to find themselves.

******

Book Two of the series,
The
de Montfort Histories:
The Dove in Flight
is due for publication later this year.
 
If you would like to be kept informed
of release dates for this and other Gradyn Bell stories, please email me at:
[email protected]
.

Acknowledgements

Over the years since I first became interested in the story of the
Cathars, I have read so many books that it would be impossible to list them all
here. If anyone would like to read further, I have listed below my most useful
sources. There are also other informative websites available, some in French
that can be translated if necessary.

While I was living in the south of France I met many delightful people
who were all willing to volunteer information and indeed to search it out for
me when I needed help. I thank these people - they know who they are - very
much!

Book
Title List

Baigent, Michael. Leigh, Richard, Lincoln,
Henry. Holy Blood and Holy Grail. Corgi Books. London, 1987

Bordonove, Georges. La Tragedie Cathare.
Editions Flammarion. Paris, 2004

Baudis, Dominique.Raimond “Le Cathare”.
Editions Michel Lafon, France, 1996

Griffe, Maurice. Les Cathares.Chronologue
de 1022 a 1321. Editions TSH. Le Cannet, 2001

Kersten, Holger. Gruber, Elmer R. (Trans.)
The Jesus Conspiracy. Element Books Limited. Dorset, England.1995

Le Roy Ladurie, Emmanuel. Montaillou
– The Promised Land of Error. Trans. Barbara Bray. George Braziller Inc.
New York, 1978

Markwardt, Jack. Was the Shroud in
Languedoc during the Missing Years?

Http://www.shroud.com/markward.htm

Maurin, Krystel. Les Esclarmonde. Editions
Privat, Toulouse, 1995

Oldenbourg, Zoe. Massacre at Montsegur.
Phoenix Press. London, 2000

Peter of Vaux-Cernay. The History of the Albigensian
Crusade. (Trans.) W.A. Silby and M.D. Silby. The Boydell Press, Woodbridge,
2002

Phillips, Jonathan. The Fourth Crusade and
the Sack of Constantinople. Jonathan Cape. London, 2004

Roquebert, Michel. Montsegur. Les Cendres
de la Liberte. Editions Privat. Toulouse, 1995