The de Montfort Histories - The Dove and the Devil (10 page)

“Welcome, my boy!’ Bertrand held out his hand to grasp Arnaud’s in a
firm handshake.

“I’m so glad I managed to catch you,” Arnaud said. “May I walk with you
a while?”

“Certainly you may, but I think I know why you are here. News travels
fast in our communities, especially
good
news!”

“Then you know why I wanted to talk to you?” Arnaud’s questioning voice
was hopeful.

“Indeed I do and think it is an excellent idea, but first I must make
plain to you the course on which you wish to venture. It will never be easy, as
I believe I have already told you. You know we are people of peace and must
never respond to physical provocation, even in self-defence. Therefore, we
never go armed in any way, trusting in our God to protect us if it is His will.
If, God willing, you ever become an elder or
perfectus,
as we are commonly known, you may no longer own any
property except the clothes you are wearing. You must give up your family ties.
Perhaps one of the more difficult requirements, especially for you younger men,
is complete abstention from any sort of sexual contact.” He looked long and
hard at Arnaud as he said this.

Arnaud did not hesitate before responding, “I have heard all these
things and am willing to learn. As for women, it will be no hardship for me.
The memory of my wife is too strong for that to be otherwise.”

Bertrand smiled at the emphatic way Arnaud had responded to him. “Our
communities are organized into communal houses, and you will join one of these,
probably at Fanjeaux. It is there that you will begin your training as a
novice. Make no mistake, your vocation will be tested frequently to ascertain
your worthiness. If you succeed in this and are judged worthy, you will be
presented to the community of elders who will elect you to their group after
you have been baptised. It is a long and burdensome journey and could take
several years before you are ready. Do you think you are strong enough to do
this?” The older man’s eyes were kind but searching.

Arnaud felt as though his soul had been bared in front of this man. “I
feel ready, but only time will tell.” Arnaud’s answer was honest and the one
Bertrand was seeking. “One thing you may be certain of,” the young man
continued, “is that I will not allow your trust in me to be misplaced.”
 

Bertrand smiled once more. “I have never thought that you would let
anyone down, but it is God’s trust you must consider, not mine. I am but the
instrument; His is the purpose.”
 
Bertrand’s tone changed and his voice became brisk. “One of
us—probably one of our female believers—will fetch you in the next
few days and guide you to our seminary in Fanjeaux. Use the time between now
and then to reflect seriously on your decision and to say goodbye to your
little daughter. You may not see her for some time, but you may rest assured
she will be in the hands of a couple who will love her as their own. I will see
that you are kept informed about her progress, so you will have no need to be
distracted by worrying about her.” With that, Bertrand gave the young man a
farewell embrace and Arnaud turned to retrace his steps to Lavaur.

In less than half an hour, he was back in Lavaur and went immediately to
Pierre and Saissa’s house. Breaking the news that he would be leaving and might
be away for several years was very difficult for him. Although they had been
taking care of the baby for almost a year, Arnaud’s lodgings had been close by
and he had been able to visit the child frequently. He had seen her grow from a
tiny bundle of crying baby into a plump, smiling ten-month-old. He always
enjoyed his times with her, especially since she had started to respond to him
and would recognise him when he came into the house, attempting in her gurgles
to talk. He knew he would miss her very much.

The Boutarras were ecstatic at his news. They were very fervent
believers; to them, the Catholic Church was the great Whore of Babylon, the
seat of Satan’s power. Anyone who was willing to preach to combat the teachings
of that church was a hero in their eyes. Although the believers were a peaceable
group of people, they held firm beliefs about the ultimate end of those who
were not fortunate enough to belong to their Church. So it was with great
delight that they greeted Arnaud’s announcement of his impending departure and
the reason for it.

Saissa rushed next door to tell her neighbours while Pierre brought out
the flagon of wine reserved for special occasions. They talked until late into
the evening, mostly about Maurina and what Arnaud’s decision meant for her. As
a growing child, she would see little of her natural father and would soon come
to look upon the Boutarras as her real family. It was agreed that it would be
less unsettling for the child if she didn’t see her father at all. It was sad,
but the reality of the situation was that he would be gone for long periods of
time and it would be best if she were not upset by his infrequent visits. This
was not to say she would not be told about her real father; they would keep his
memory alive for her as she grew older. In time, it might be possible to send
her to one of the communal houses run by the
perfectae
, the women elders of the Church. It was all too far into
future and time would tell. In the meantime, it was agreed that she would stay
with the Boutarras until she was twelve or thirteen.

As he left their house that night, Arnaud looked sombre. He recognised
that this was the first of many tests and privations he would be called upon to
undergo. His heart constricted at the thought of saying goodbye to his child.
After all, she was all that remained to remind him of his wife and a former
life that seemed now only a dream. He and the Boutarras had arranged that he
would return the following week to say his final goodbyes. In the meantime, he
would fill his time meeting other believers and tidying up a few last bits of
business.
There wasn’t much to do
, he
thought. The slate of his former life had been wiped clean with his last visit
to Ambres. The only thing remaining from the first twenty-five years of his
life was his baby daughter, and it seemed that now even that connection was to
be broken.

The week passed by in something of a blur. Arnaud spent a considerable
amount of his time carving a wooden toy for Maurina. It gave his hands
something to do and kept his mind off the inevitable parting from the child. He
carved a small bird, a dove that she would be able to grasp in her small
fingers. He drilled a hole through the neck so that a thin strand of leather
could pass through it. Perhaps, when she grew older, she might wish to wear it
as an ornament. As he carved he wondered how she would grow up. She was very
much like her mother in looks, but it was too soon to speculate about her
character.

Polishing the dainty wooden ornament till its surface was as smooth as
silk, his thoughts inevitably turned to the huge step he was about to take in
his life. In his mind he likened it to setting sail on an unknown voyage. Where
was he going and to what purpose? Where would he end his voyage? Life was
becoming ever more difficult for the believers.

The Catholic Church called them
heretici
,
or heretics, those who had fallen away from the teachings of the True Church.
They were damned, the Church leaders claimed. The power of the Roman Catholic
Church lay in the fact that its dogma must be accepted unquestioningly by all
the people. The power of the Church of the believers lay in the fact that they
were able to question everything. The Catholic mass was preached in Latin, a
language that few people understood, while the believers preached in Oc, the
ordinary language of the people. The Catholic clergy in the cities lived in
fine buildings, ate fine food and drank the finest of wines. The
perfecti
went about on foot, their only
possessions being the clothes they wore on their backs. It was not difficult
for the population to draw conclusions from what they could see with their own
eyes.

As he was putting the finishing touches to the toy he was making for
Maurina, Arnaud was surprised to hear a loud knocking on his door. Opening it,
he saw that his visitor was his former parish priest who had trudged all the
way from Ambres to speak to him. Arnaud had known him all his life and, indeed,
it had been this priest who had baptised him as a baby.

“Can it be true, Arnaud, the things I’ve heard?”

“What have you heard, Father?’

“That you are thinking of joining the heretics. That you are thinking of
becoming a member of the Cathar Church. Do you know why these people are called
Cathars? It is because they are said to do unspeakable acts with cats. They are
called witches by many. Do you really want to become one of them?” The priest
looked stricken. “Look around you, boy!”

“I
have
looked around me,
Father. Until last year, I had looked with my eyes closed. I didn’t see what
was plain for everyone to see. I had never met any believers—at least,
none that I knew about—except my wife and her family. Since her death, my
life has changed completely. I can see the lives of indulgence that some of
your clergy lead. I know now that for a man to truly know God, he must understand
and question the Bible. I have realised that by shutting out the female
population, Holy Mother Church shuts out half of God’s human creation.
 
Some of the things your brother priests
teach are lies and misinformation; even the Holy Father in Rome admits this.
Yet it doesn’t change—people are still leading miserable,
poverty-stricken lives. And the very people who should lead by example do not
do so!”

The priest looked a little shamefaced. Honest man that he was, he had to
agree with Arnaud’s arguments. “We are not all like that,” he said. “There are
many amongst us who would see things change, but change takes a great deal of
time.”

“I don’t have a great deal of time,” Arnaud said. “You cannot say there
will be any changes made in my lifetime. What I do now is, in part, for my
daughter, so that she may live a happier life than her mother who had to
worship in secrecy.”

“You have not even brought Maurina to be baptised. You know she is in
danger of losing her immortal soul.”

“One year ago I might have agreed with you, Father, but now I am not so
sure. We must wait to see what happens. I thank you for coming to see me,
though. I know it is only your care for my daughter and me that brought you
here.”

The priest took Arnaud’s hand in his and said, “I trust you have chosen
the right path, my boy. I know that whatever you do, you do with a sincere
heart. May God go with you, whichever path you choose.”
     

“Thank you, Father,” said Arnaud, opening the door. “You may not know
it, but you have helped to clear my mind.”

Later on that same day, Arnaud went to visit the Boutarras again and say
goodbye to Maurina. The baby was bundled up against the cold weather, even
inside the cottage.

“Look how much she has grown,” Saissa said with a self-satisfied air.
“She’s much bigger than Braida, even though Braida is older.”

Arnaud looked at the Boutarras’ youngest child. She was smaller and
slighter than her foster sister but nevertheless looked healthy and strong. All
their children looked healthy and rosy, sharing the olive skin of their parents
but it was apparent to anyone that the fair-haired Maurina had not come from
the same stock. As he kissed the baby goodbye, he handed the little carved dove
to Saissa.

“Give this to her when she is old enough to play with it. Perhaps you
could thread a ribbon or a short leather lace through it so she doesn’t lose
it. Don’t forget to tell her it was her papa who made it for her.” He couldn’t
stop the tears that were threatening to fill his eyes, so he hastily took his
leave.

“He’ll get over it soon enough.” Pierre spoke gruffly to hide his own
emotions. “He’ll have to. He’ll meet far sadder things in the life he has
chosen, and he’ll have far more difficult obstacles to overcome. We have been
protected here in Lavaur, but there are terrible things going on in the wider
world. Our brethren suffer daily for their faith. We must prepare ourselves for
when our turn comes.”

“He’ll overcome any difficulties he meets,” Saissa replied. “I am
convinced of that. His dedication is clear to see. It was God’s plan to bring
him to the fold of the
perfecti
. If
Bertrand had not gone to deliver the consolamentum of the dying to Arnaud’s
wife, if she hadn’t died, Arnaud might never have discovered the truth.”

“As usual, my dear, you are probably right. You do sometimes speak a
deal of sense…for a woman, that is!” There was a touch of humour in the way he
spoke. He pulled her towards him. “Don’t you go dying on me, will you? I
couldn’t bear it. I know I would not be man enough to do what Arnaud is doing.”

“Just like Arnaud, you would do what needed to be done in the
circumstances,” Saissa said, poking the fire to stir up the cooling embers.
“For the moment, it is enough to live as we believe is right and to bring up
our children in the truth. That is a most important job, make no mistake.”

Pierre picked up the little dove that Arnaud had left for Maurina. “It’s
beautiful,” he said. “What exquisite workmanship. I didn’t know he was a man of
such talent. It’s fitting. The dove is a symbol of peace, and that’s all anyone
wants…to live in peace.”