The Secret Of The Cathars (2011) (3 page)

“
OK, Jackie.” He grinned. “I can see
you’re
convinced. Who am I to argue?”

She tossed her head angrily. “In any case it fits in with the rest of the research I’ve been doing about the Albigensian Crusade and its aftermath. So I want to check it out.”

“
I still think it’s hardly enough to justify a whole summer’s excavations in a remote spot like this.” He hesitated. “Are you sure you are being professional about this?” That was as far as he dared to go in arguing with her.

Jacqueline stared into the distance, her eyes misting over. “Maybe I’m not. But I still can’t forget the stories he used to tell me when I was a little girl. He swore they were true, Jo.”

Andre wasn’t so sure, but he decided not to confront her further on that topic.

“
So how did you sell it to the backers?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t have to sell it to them. After the success of the last two series they were desperate to get me started on a new one. I only had to point to the spectacular nature of the site and the huge interest in the Cathars to get their backing. Once we’ve got something to show them we’ll have the television crews down here. That’s another reason why we have to get the site safely roped up.”

“
Huh. That’s
if
we’ve got something to show them.”

Jacqueline looked at him sharply. There was more than a hint of aggression in her reply. “It’s not like you to be negative, Jo. It’s normally me who’s holding
you
back.”

“
I just don’t want you to slip up, Jackie. Your career has been all success so far. I don’t want this one to be a flop.” He grinned, trying to mollify her. “Of course, I’m partly thinking of myself as well as you.”

“
It won’t be a flop.” She linked her arm through his. “Even if we don’t find anything, we’ve still got a damn good story to tell. Don’t worry, Jo. Have I ever let you down?”

“
No, you haven’t.” He shrugged. “OK. I accept the Cathars are your new fixation.”

“
Remember, Jo - this was a very murky period in French history. Languedoc wasn’t a full part of a united France in those days. I believe the French have to face up to this particular skeleton in their cupboard. But - much more than that - it also involves the very truth about the origins of Christianity. That’s what will sell the series all over the world.”

Jolyon was starting to feel a bit worried about that. Publicity was a two-edged sword. He could see that there might be a lot of opposition from very influential groups in the government and the Roman Catholic Church. Was that what was niggling at the back of his mind? He hadn’t got any other good reason for doubting her. In fact, he didn’t know why he didn’t feel happy about this new project. Perhaps it was the strange sensation of remoteness which the site encouraged. But it wouldn’t be any good trying to put her off without a very good reason. Jackie could be extremely obstinate at times. So he decided to ignore his doubts. He shook his head and turned away, looking up the ridge toward the highest peak.

“
So - what are we looking for then?”

“
I won’t know precisely until we start digging. Look, Jo - this is a wild, untamed site. It’s more than four hundred years since anybody was here except the odd casual tourist. I doubt whether anyone has ever properly explored it in a structured way. We’re going to clear the site section by section, photograph it, measure and draw it on the computer in three dimensions, investigate any anomalies or potential hiding places. Then we’ll go on from there.”

“
Are you expecting to find anything valuable?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know. The castle is known as the fortress of the Templars. As well as the Cathar connection, there have been vague local rumours for centuries about the Templar treasure being hidden here. But I discount those.”

“
You don’t expect to turn up any treasure?”

“
Well, who knows? However, even if we don’t find anything specific, we’ll still be able to produce a detailed survey of a former Cathar stronghold. It will form a novel and effective backdrop to the Albigensian series.” She turned and grinned at him. “And can you think of a better place to spend a summer’s excavation?”

The cheekiness of her expression made him laugh. She suddenly seemed half her real age. He felt as though he was confronting a naughty schoolgirl.

“
Oh - I’m not complaining.” In truth he had to admit he would probably enjoy the next few months here with Jackie and a few other archaeologists and students. “What I don’t understand is how you managed to get permission. They’re pretty tough on licences in this area.”

“
Ah. There I was just a little bit crafty,” she said. “When I first submitted the application to excavate at Rennes-le-Chateau I knew I didn’t stand a chance of receiving a licence. All the publicity of the last thirty years combined with the huge pressure brought by the Church has ensured that the place is shut up like a prison. If a person so much as carries a spade up the main street of Rennes-le-Chateau he is likely to be arrested.”

Even an application from the famous Jacqueline Blontard was unlikely to be given serious consideration. The fact that she had two highly successful television series behind her of course made them take her seriously. And she was not averse to the newspapers dubbing her “the most glamorous archaeologist on the planet.”

“
So I knew I’d never get permission. The place is shut down tight. But, with my television backers, Jo, I pack a lot of punch nowadays.”

“
You can say that again. Half of France would be howling for their blood if they seemed to be treating you unfairly.”

“
They were frightened I’d make a big fuss if I didn’t get some sort of go-ahead. They kept putting me off for about six months until they knew they were going to have to give me an answer one way or the other. Then I pretended that I’d got tired of waiting and banged in an alternative application to work here.” She laughed outright. “They were so relieved that they gave me the licence straight away without putting any conditions on it.”

“
You never were interested in Rennes?”

“
Of course not. That place was cleaned out more than a century ago. On the other hand, this is one of the few Cathar strongholds which weren’t razed to the ground in the wake of the Albigensian Crusade. I hope we’ll find some interesting remains here - that is providing Sauniere didn’t pillage this site in his forays into the countryside around this area.”

She rested a hand on his shoulder. “The other good thing, Jo, is that nobody knows that we are here so far. Of course, I expect someone will start asking where we’ve disappeared to in due course. And in a few months some hungry news-hound will track us down. But I’m counting on getting most of the season’s work completed before we’re troubled by treasure seekers and all the other characters who’ll be poking around as soon as they find out what we’re doing.”

Jolyon pulled a face. “I hope you’re right.” He looked along the ridge, running irregularly for more than two hundred and fifty metres, and broken up into several sections by the rugged terrain. “It’s a big, irregular site. So where do you want us to start?”

“
It might as well be at this eastern end. The first thing you’ll need to do is get your guys to carefully rope off a secure working area. And I don’t want anyone scrambling around outside the safe zones. It’s too dangerous.” She prodded him in the chest. “That includes you, Andre Jolyon. I know what you’re like.”

He smiled lop-sidedly. “OK. You’re the boss. Gaston Lesmoines and the other two rock-climbers are turning up on Monday. Their first job will be anchors and safety ropes. Will that satisfy you?”

“
Just remember you’ve promised.” Her eyes were suddenly serious. “You’re too valuable to me to take any silly risks.”

“
Of course I promise. Do you want to explore any further today?”

“
No. I think it’s too dangerous until we’ve got the ropes firmly fixed all the way along both sides of the ridge.” She wagged a finger at him. “I tell you I don’t want any accidents. We’ll go back to the hotel in Quillan now and start to plan our campaign.”

Without further hesitation she set off back down the rough path towards the car. He watched her trim, lithe figure as she sprang over the boulders. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps the next few months would be fun. And it would be good for a change to be away from all the publicity which usually hounded Jacqueline Blontard nowadays.

He followed her more slowly, deep in thought.

- 3 -

The magnificent timber gates of the Bishop’s Palace were firmly closed. The big man with the fair crew-cut hair lifted a large fist and hammered upon them. He paused to listen as the echoes rattled along the street. He counted to twenty then raised his hand to strike again. As he did so the door began to move. It swung back a metre or so with a grinding sound and he saw a short, tonsured monk standing in the gap before him. The man lifted his head in silent attention but his eyes avoided the big man’s.

“
My name is Jean-Luc Lerenard. I have an appointment with Monsignor Clemente Galbaccino.”

The silent priest lowered his head and moved to close the door, but Lerenard had his foot in the gap before it shut. He leaned against the door and it opened with little resistance.

“
I will wait inside.”

The monk raised no objection. He stood aside as the big man entered then closed the door behind the new arrival and dropped the securing latch before padding away down the short arched corridor to the sunlit cloister beyond. Feeling that he had made his point, Jean-Luc let him go. He stood patiently and studied his surroundings. Although he would not have admitted it if questioned, he was impressed by the ancient, nearly blackened stonework, the peaceful silence which reigned in this haven from the violent life that he knew, and the almost tangible atmosphere of unchanging faith which seemed to reach back over centuries.

It was several minutes before the cleric returned. He stood just inside the archway leading to the quad and said in a high, piping voice, “Please to come this way.”

Lerenard followed the monk across the sun-patched quadrangle, along a paved corridor and up two flights of stone steps to a half-open landing. He stopped in front of an old timber door, knocked, paused and knocked again. Then he opened it without audible invitation. He stood aside to allow Jean-Luc to enter and closed the door quietly behind the big man.

Across the room in a sunny bay window sat a man dressed in a plain charcoal grey suit. The cardinal had his back to him and was bent over a desk, apparently reading some book or document which couldn’t be seen from the other side of the room. It wasn’t a usual side of Lerenard’s character to remain quiet and let others dictate to him, but on this occasion he held his peace and waited for the cardinal to speak.

After a long two minutes the man raised his head from what he was studying and swivelled in his chair to face the room. Galbaccino had a round, pink visage topped by thinning white hair. Jean-Luc knew him to be well over seventy years of age yet the man looked no more than fifty - presumably that was the benefit of a lifetime of self denial.

“
You are Jean-Luc Lerenard.”

“
Yes.”

“
We were pleased with the way you handled the release of Father Juan and the ten members of his flock in Medellin.”

“
It was only eight.” Jean-Luc straightened his back and looked straight at the old man. “I regret that the five terroristas died in the fight.”

“
Only the evil ones died,” said the cardinal, “and that could not be avoided.”

Lerenard kept silent. He knew he did not need to comment further.

“
We have another task for you.” Galbaccino paused a moment. “It is a far more delicate task.”

The old man stared deep into Jean-Luc’s eyes. It was surprising how his look could penetrate - seemingly to the centre of the big man’s soul.

“
And no-one is to die this time.” The cardinal sighed. “Unless it is unavoidable.”

Galbaccino pointed a finger at him. “If that should happen it is essential that the death must appear to be an accident. Do you understand?”

“
Yes.”

Lerenard waited for the rest of the instructions.

The nasty part of business concluded, the cardinal seemed more at ease. “Informers at the Department of Ancient Monuments tell us that a licence has recently been issued to the famous woman archaeologist, Jacqueline Blontard, to excavate in the ruins of a castle called Bezu which is somewhere south of Carcassonne. They advise us that they had little choice. She has very powerful people supporting her application, including the president, and there seemed no good reason why they could dare to refuse.” He smiled mirthlessly at Lerenard. “Nevertheless we are concerned that this Blontard woman may know more than she has divulged to the authorities about Bezu castle. She had already indicated sympathy for the heretic Cathar cause and her late uncle was a well-known adherent. You will not understand the threat the Cathars used to pose to the true Church. However that threat is by no means as dead as most people would like to believe.”

Galbaccino breathed deeply several times. Then he again looked straight at Lerenard.

“
We wish to find out what Mademoiselle Blontard is doing at le Bezu. Is there some new information which she knows? We want you to contrive to get close to her. If she, shall we say, unearths anything, we wish to know about it before she is able to release the information to the general public.” He sat back in his chair. “We think that may not be difficult, because she will want to keep any she finds under wraps, as they say, until it can be released as part of the television series which she will inevitably produce after the excavation is completed. Do you understand me?”