The de Montfort Histories - The Dove and the Devil (27 page)

“Even Maman and Papa don’t know all that I am telling you,” he
explained. “The elders have disclosed as little as possible to me so as to
protect us all, but I can tell you that Arnaud will be here sometime soon to
collect the parcel I have brought with me. And that will be the end of it, as
far as we are concerned.”

Maurina was pensive. “I haven’t seen my real father for years. In fact,
I haven’t really thought about him at all. I’ve even forgotten what he looks
like. He made that dove I gave you, so I know he cared about me a long time
ago. It was the only thing I had to remind me of him. Do you still have it?”

“Of course I do! Do you think I would lose it? It reminded me of home
when I was far away.” He removed the small carving from around his neck and
gave it to her. “Here, I won’t be needing it now. I’m home to stay!”

 
Overjoyed at his
pronouncement, Maurina flung her arms around her big brother. He had always
been her hero; as a small girl she had dogged his footsteps, often to his
irritation. Pons swore to himself that he would never be irritated by her
again.

“What’s he like, my real father?”

“You know he’s a
perfectus
.
He’s a gentle man, as are all the
perfecti
,
wise beyond measure. And brave, too. He would never hurt a living soul. He has
brought the consolamentum to many who were dying, just as Bertrand Arsen did
when your mother died. Your mother died a happy death because of Bertrand.
Surely Maman has told you the circumstances of your birth.”

“Yes, of course she has, but I always thought it unfair of my real
father to give me up so easily.”

“Believe me when I say it was not done easily. Your father spent many
months in prayer and contemplation before making his decision. At the time, he
thought it best to cut the ties that bound the two of you so he would not upset
you by his infrequent visits.” He looked stricken as he went on. “You have been
happy, haven’t you?”
 

“Of course! I love Maman and Papa, just as I love you and Braida and
everybody!”

He smiled at her upturned face. She was still a child, but he could
clearly see the adult she would become. She was already quick to understand
problems where Braida struggled. She was brave and did not cry easily. She was
already beautiful, her blondeness and pale skin an anomaly amidst her darker
family.
 
She would be a breaker of
many men’s hearts!

Arnaud’s arrival caused little stir in Lavaur. At his request, as few
people as possible had been apprised of his visit. He arrived just before dawn
in late November, in time for the twelfth anniversary of his daughter’s birth.
Although the pain of his wife’s death all those years ago had passed, from time
to time in his busy life Arnaud still remembered the sadness that had possessed
him before he had become a
perfectus
.
Since then, he had had precious little time to devote to personal matters.

This visit to his daughter—the first in several
years—brought memories flooding back, for twelve-year-old Maurina was the
living image of his dead wife. At first he did not find it easy to talk to her,
but her exuberance soon won him over and he found himself laughing and joking
with the family. Her unconscious mannerisms so strongly resembled those of his
dead wife that he could not stop believing that perhaps she
had
been reincarnated!

Arnaud was delighted when he saw that she wore the dove, and thanked
Pons once more for the assistance he had given to the cause of the believers.
“Are you returning to the service of the Count of Toulouse?” he enquired.

“Not if I can help it!” Maurina answered emphatically before Pons could
reply.

“Your opinion was not asked,” Pierre admonished. “Pons will do what is
required of him, and the decision will be his to make. We must not try to
influence him. Should the
perfecti
have need of him again, I am sure your brother would do as his conscience
demanded.”

Maurina glared at her foster father. “Pons promised me only yesterday
that he was home for good. I was just repeating what I had been told.”

The atmosphere was becoming heated. Saissa sighed, realising that
Maurina would not be biddable like her own Braida—who would never have
had the courage to answer her father in the tone that Maurina had used. “Come,
girls,” she said. “We have washing to take to the
lavoir
and I will need your help to carry it. We’ll leave the men
to their discussion.”

Maurina had the grace to look chastened while Arnaud pronounced the
blessing on her and her sister and foster mother. As she went out the door
carrying a huge bundle of washing, she could not resist wishing she had been
born a male. She had never seen a man at the
lavoir
because they obviously had better things to do!

Saissa cautioned Maurina as they struggled down the hill to the river to
join all the other women doing their washing. This was a place for rumours and
gossip. While some of it was likely true, most of it was conjecture in these
dangerous times. Saissa warned the girls that they must say nothing of Arnaud’s
visit, and certainly nothing of what Pons had told them. It was Maurina she was
most concerned about; she was apt to speak before thinking. This trait in her
foster daughter had not previously worried Saissa overmuch but now careless
talk could cost lives.

Pons was visibly happy to hand over the responsibility for the mysterious
linen to Arnaud, and said so. Although no one in the family questioned where it
would be taken next, Arnaud was surprisingly open with the information,
indicating it would go to Montsegur, the agreed final hiding place of the
relic.

“A place of concealment has been constructed within the rebuilt
fortress, where no prying eyes will ever discover it,” Arnaud began. “It has
taken several years to construct and we are sure it will be safe there, but as
ever, the difficulty will be in making sure of its safe arrival. That’s what I
must speak to you about. What I am about to say to you I need to say in
private, without Saissa or the girls present, as it concerns Maurina. Before I
say what must be said, you must understand that your decision—whatever it
may be—will be final as far as the elders are concerned.”

Pons and his father were mystified, but the mystification quickly
cleared as the
perfectus
continued.
“What has been proposed is that Maurina accompany me. We can legitimately
travel as father and daughter to Montsegur. No one would suspect a child and
her father of carrying the fabled linen. If asked, we need only say that I am
taking her to her mother’s family in Merens in the mountains so as to be far
away from any fighting. My wife’s uncle does live in that direction, close to
the Arriege, so the story would not be a lie. What do you say, my friend?” He
paused to look at Pierre, who remained silent. “I make no denial that you are
truly her father. You have fed and clothed her and looked after her through her
illnesses. I have no right to make a decision such as this, though she is the
child of my blood. There is something great at stake here, and I will not
influence you except to say that in the world to come, people will be
grateful.”

“But you
have
influenced him,
Arnaud.” Pons said. “How can he ignore the fact that in the world to come,
people will be grateful?”

Pierre sat down heavily, as if he carried the weight of the world on his
shoulders. “I cannot make this decision without Saissa and, indeed, Maurina.
She is more mature than her years and she must have a say in any decision.
Saissa would never forgive me if I just sent Maurina away without consulting
her. She loves the girl as she loves all her children.”

“You cannot be seriously considering this, Papa!” Pons implored. “Have
you any idea what it is like on the roads? The Devil’s armies maraud everywhere
and are not particular about whom they attack. If they must go, let me go, too.
Although we could not fight anyone off, three of us are less likely to be
attacked than two.”

“As I have said, I must talk to your mother and see what she says. I
have absolutely no doubt that Maurina will think of it as a huge game. Someone
will need to take time to impress upon her that it is much more than that.”

“She will soon see the seriousness of what is to happen, of that I am
certain. As I have said before, she is quick-witted and no one’s fool.” Pons
said. “I am absolutely certain she would be capable of such an endeavour.”

“Well, I must leave you now. You must talk with your family. Be sure to
explain the importance of what we ask and also the dangers. Send Pons with your
decision—you know where I am staying until tomorrow morning. If I do not
hear from you before then, I will know your answer is no. Now, may God bring
you all to a good end!”

Needless to say, there was uproar in the Boutarra household when Pierre
told Saissa of Arnaud’s request. She dismissed it out of hand, saying that he
must have been mad to even allow Arnaud to think she would consider letting the
girl go. Maurina, on the other hand, was thrilled at what she saw as the
adventure of a lifetime, and as loudly as her mother condemned the plan, she
approved it.

It took Pierre to point out the one unassailable fact in the
discussion—that Arnaud was the child’s real father and he wished her to
go. When Pons added his willingness to go for added protection, Saissa was
almost convinced. She requested a few hours to think the plan through and said
she would make her decision the following morning. It was a restless night she
spent, made even more so by the fact that during the night, Maurina crept into
the huge bed shared by her and her husband, something she had not done since
she had been a small girl. Talking softly to Saissa so as not to waken Pierre,
the girl begged her mother to allow her to go, to do something to help the
believers. As usual, her pleadings were difficult to resist and mindful of the
fact that the girl was Arnaud’s child, and he wished her to go, Saissa’s former
resolve had all but disappeared by morning. Tearfully and very grudgingly she
gave her permission for Pons to find Arnaud and give him the news.

Chapter Twenty

Occitania, South of France

Winter 1210 AD

Termes and Puivert

The siege of Termes was not going well. Simon’s army had been stuck
there for several months and still there appeared to be no end to the matter.
It had been complicated by the comings and goings of various Crusaders and
their leaders as their forty-day debts to the church expired. It was a
strategic planner’s nightmare for Simon never knew for certain how big his army
was at any particular time.

A week earlier, he had arrived to rejoin his men after attending a
council with Arnold-Almeric and other church dignitaries in Narbonne. They had
hoped to get the Count of Toulouse to prove he was not a heretic by forcing him
to disband his mercenary soldiers, stop the protection he was giving to Jews
and hand over all heretics on his domains within the following year. They had
ordered the Count and his barons not to eat more than two kinds of meat or wear
costly garments. They were to wear plain brown homespun material and burn their
chateaux and fortresses to the ground. The final insult to this elegant and
erudite man was telling him that he could no longer live in the town and must
instead live in the countryside like his own villeins. Furthermore, should the
Crusaders feel the need to attack Toulouse and his men, they must offer no
resistance.

Not unsurprisingly, the Count refused these ridiculous terms and was
subsequently excommunicated once more, his lands forfeited to the church. With
these political machinations going on, Simon had ridden back to a siege
situation virtually unchanged in the past two months.

The chateau of Termes, held by Raymond of Termes, was defended admirably
by its natural position. It was built on a rocky peak, at the foot of which ran
the fast-flowing Sou, a tributary of the River Orbieu. When he had begun his
siege of the chateau, Simon knew the locals considered it impregnable, surrounded
as it was by wide and very deep chasms accessible only to mountain goats. In
order to get near enough to the chateau to do much damage, one had to throw
oneself into a veritable abyss and then climb as far up as the sky. This was
what Simon’s reconnoitring party had reported when they had struggled back to
their commander’s base camp. They had also brought with them the bad news that
even if the chateau could be taken, Raymond of Termes had built an additional
fortification on yet another high peak beyond.

So it was that Simon moved his base camp and constructed his tents and
pavilions on the only place possible within striking distance of the
chateau—opposite the village on a naturally formed precipice that
connected the chateau to the mountains. Being that it was the only exit from
the chateau, Simon de Montfort and his army could not get in, and Raymond of
Termes and his loyal barons could not get out!

Beset as he was by the inaction of his campaign, Simon was overjoyed
when a convoy of war machines arrived from Carcassonne. Although one hundred
men had escorted the convoy, one of his own knights and his men, loyal to the
Cathars had harried it all the way. Several machines were broken and set
alight, but Simon’s men managed to save most of them and repair the damaged
ones. The arrival of the machines raised the morale of de Montfort and his men
as nothing else had done in the weeks prior to this. Amongst his soldiers and
the clerics who were with the army, it was said that Simon had been saved by his
sanctity and by his good heart. Providence had indeed bestowed its grace on him
by sending the machines and the engineers to work them!

But, alas, God’s sanctity was not enough, as the siege continued to drag
on. Whereas the besieged had no water, the besiegers had no food. Those who
were being besieged would break out and attack the dreaded war machine, only to
be driven back by the Crusaders. The Crusaders would breach the walls, only to
see them filled in again by faggots of wood and large beams. The stalemate was
complete.

Simon was beginning to heed the advice of some of his men to lift the
siege, to leave and take the fight elsewhere. Before he could do this, however,
Raymond of Termes demanded to speak with him to seek a peaceful settlement. Too
many of his men had already died of thirst and dysentery. De Montfort was glad
to accept Raymond’s demand for a parley, especially since many of his Crusaders
were once more packing their tents to leave, their forty days’ duty to the
Crusade complete. In vain Simon had begged them to stay. Alicia threw herself
at the feet of the leaders who were ready to depart, urging them to reconsider
what their departure would mean for her husband who daily exposed himself to
death for the sake of Christ. Only the Bishop of Chartres and his men heard her
pleadings, and Simon, with two thirds of his army gone, was left to finish the
job in hand.

Unfortunately for him, the townsfolk and the
faidits
who had taken refuge in Termes heard about the weakness of
his army. That news, coupled with a huge thunderstorm that filled all the water
tanks, gave them a renewed ability to continue their resistance. When Simon’s
envoy, Guy de Levis, appeared at the gates of the chateau of Termes for the
parley, he was refused entry. Simon was incensed. That evening in his pavilion
he discussed with Alicia what they should do next.

“The fortress is what we are here to take. We know there are many
Cathars
hiding inside
these walls, but at this point I don’t
care. If we could talk to Guillaume, Raymond’s brother or even Raymond’s
mother, I am sure they could make Raymond see sense. They are Cathars and would
not wish to see any more death or bloodshed. If we could convince them to leave
peacefully so that we may garrison the chateau, they could go free.”

“Perhaps he would see sense if you sent one of the bishops to talk to
him,” Alicia suggested. “Whatever we do should be done quickly. Even I can see
that what remains of your army is becoming more demoralised each day. This
weather is frightful. Several of the tents have been blown away and I have no
wish to spend winter in this forest.” She shivered. She had recently given
birth to her sixth child, a little girl whom they had named Amicie. “The cold
is eating into my bones and I wish to be back with my baby.”

“Well, there is nothing I can do about the weather, but I can send the
Bishop of Carcassonne to try to speak to Raymond’s mother. Surely she will see
the sense of what we are saying.”
 
He
looked at her fondly. “I know how you miss your children and promise you we
will be all together soon.”

 
In fact, the Bishop was not
allowed to speak to the aging
perfecta
,
and the position stayed stalemated. The arrival of some new Crusaders from
Lorraine in the north of France lifted the sagging spirits of the already
battle weary soldiers who had been on the campaign from its inception. At least
there was now enough food to go around, but it was another month before they
noticed the defenders had become weakened and were not repairing the breeches
in the walls as quickly as they had done hitherto. It did not take Simon’s
spies long to discover that the town was being defended by a few sickly
men—all the other soldiers had died of thirst or dysentery.

When the rains had finally filled up the water tanks, the chateau’s
defenders had gorged themselves on the rain water. Unfortunately, the rain had
fallen on the dead animals thrown by the enemy into the tanks while they were
empty. The contamination caused by the bloated and diseased animals in the
water spread sickness through the chateau like wildfire. The few souls who
remained were incapable of repelling an assault, so Raymond decided to evacuate
the chateau. He had thought to use the shadows of the night, together with his
knowledge of the terrain, to make good an escape. Unfortunately an alarm was
raised and many of the escapees were killed; Raymond himself was captured and
taken to prison in Carcassonne. At Alicia’s request, the ladies of the chateau
were allowed to go free and it was said that if Raymond hadn’t broken his word
Simon might well have pardoned him too, for above all things, de Montfort
admired valour. As it was, it was not long before Raymond of Termes was
despatched to his Maker at the express order of Simon himself.

After the fall of Termes, the
faidits
—the
dispossessed Cathar knights who roamed the countryside giving military help
where they could—were thrown into despair and the resistance to the
Crusades all but vanished. Although the town had fallen in November and it was
the custom not to fight throughout the winter, Simon felt constrained to push
on. His next project would be the conquest of the chateau of Puivert, seat of
the Congost family, a major force in the area. They were a peaceable and
cultured family much tainted—in de Montfort’s view—by their
heretical beliefs. All the members of the family were Cathars and the chateau
was a notable centre of one of the Courts of Love so numerous in this part of
Occitania where troubadours gathered to sing their gentle melodies of passion.
Simon expected little resistance there and hoped to leave just a small garrison
and then move on. He knew that if Puivert, which was considered unassailable
and of little consequence to the Crusaders, fell quickly, many towns would
throw open their doors to the conquerors to avoid the annihilation that
inevitably followed resistance to him and his army.

He was now at the peak of his command. It seemed that nothing could stop
him in his march towards the extinction of a large section of the Occitanian
population. However, Arnold-Almeric, the religious leader of the Crusade, was
still intent on hounding the Count of Toulouse out of his domains, which were
already forfeit to the church. Having accused several of the Count’s very
prominent citizens of being heretics, and furious at the Count’s refusal to
arrest them, Arnold-Almeric once more presented an ultimatum to the Count. His
demands were even more outrageous that those of the preceding months.

Toulouse, who had never sought a fight, began to organise a coalition of
some of the neighbouring lords who were themselves being threatened by de
Montfort’s voracious appetite for land. Sadly for the de Montfort family, and
particularly for Guy, who had spent such happy times in the bosom of Count de
Comminges’ family, de Comminges and the Count de Foix were the first to add
their support to the Count of Toulouse.
 
Simon’s old friend had become his bitter enemy!

Arriving at Puivert, Simon was amazed to find Alain de Toulouse waiting
for him. It was apparent from the boy’s demeanour that he had not heard the
latest news of his father’s decision to fight the Crusaders. Simon ordered the
boy’s arrest at once and he was taken to be questioned in the crypt of the
church, ironically called
Notre Dame de
Bon Secours
, Our Lady of Good Comfort. At his arrest, Alain knew there
would be little help or succour coming his way now that his father had finally
thrown down the gauntlet to de Montfort. The best he could hope for was to be
ransomed, but even that was a vain hope as he would find out soon enough.

Alain’s men took flight as soon as they saw that he had been taken into
captivity, escaping so as to rejoin Toulouse and to impart the news of his
son’s capture. The boy was glad when he heard his men had escaped and would
live to fight another battle. He knew Simon’s reputation and that it was richly
deserved, and held out little hope for his own survival. The beatings that
ensued were no surprise to the youth and he bore them stoically, never once
deviating from the information he had given de Montfort when he was first
questioned. He did not know his father’s whereabouts, who his father’s allies
were or where his father would strike next.

When Alain was made aware of his father’s decision to take up arms
against the Church, he boldly, if not foolishly, told his captors that he was
glad his father had made that choice. With those words he signed his own death
warrant. In a fit of black anger at being unable to break the young man’s
spirit, Simon ordered the youth to be thrown from the top of the church tower
to his death, not caring what the results of such an action might be. (Many men
would subsequently forfeit their lives due to Simon’s decision to kill
Toulouse’s son!)
 
Predictably, when
he heard of the manner of his son’s death, Toulouse swore undying vengeance on
de Montfort.

The taking of Puivert was ridiculously easy. It took only three days of
siege to achieve the surrender of the Congost family. The chateau itself was a
centre of culture, art and music. Carvings of musicians playing their
instruments were displayed in the rooms of the tower and in the vaulting.
Bernard de Congost was the premier Cathar baron of the area, brother-in-law to
Raymond of Perella, who held the fortress of Montsegur. De Congost, his son and
several other members of the family managed to escape the clutches of Simon’s
lieutenant who captured the castle. Simon was delighted by the ease with which
the chateau had fallen into his hands and quickly gave it into the control of
one of his most trusted aids, Lambert de Thury. Thus, this bastion of
Occitanian culture passed into the hands of a northern soldier who had not the
least idea about courtly love and culture and, furthermore, could not have
cared less about it!

Chapter Twenty One