He alone would be his witness.
60
DREAMER
Days after the failed sortie, Raimon de Perella and Pierre-Roger de Mirepoix swallowed their pride and descended the pog to parley with the French. The garrison was much depleted from that fateful battle and it would not take long for disease to take hold with so many dead and no place to bury them. On top of it, we were trapped, with no food and no help from the Count of Toulouse.
Our fate had been sealed.
A long night was spent in prayer over the dead and the dying and in the morning I was barely awake when the horn sounded on the ramparts marking the return of the seigneurs from the fields with the terms of surrender. The garrison would remain in the fortress fifteen days and the French would take hostages to prevent a night escape, en mass. The garrison would be pardoned, as would the killers of the inquisitors (this amazed us all), the men at arms could leave with their belongings but would have to appear before the Inquisition to confess their errors. All others would have only light penances provided they abjured their heretical beliefs and made confession before the Inquisitors. But those who remained stubborn and did not confess the errors of their faith and all its rituals, rights and beliefs, would be burnt to death. This was the terrible addendum that we had feared.
We had fifteen days to make our preparations, and to choose: death or life.
A cry of despair reached to the very heavens then, for those who had taken the consolamentum could not recant their faith, they could not deny the Holy Spirit. For this reason the only alternative left to them was to choose the pyre, leaving their friends and family to watch as they burned. I knew that many believers would ask for the consolamentum in the coming days, for what life was there beyond the walls of Montségur without family and friends? What life was there in a country now foreign to their eye, a country full of inquisitors, danger and malice? What was there to return to? After all, their farms and castles had been seized, their animals stolen, and their vassals sent away. How must they live a life hounded by Rome? Better to die pure so as to be raised to the light of heaven. One moment of pain was small payment for an eternity of bliss!
Or so they believed.
Each man found his wife and children. Families gathered together to pray, weeping and talking and holding one to the other.
These fourteen days would bring peace and a chance for us to celebrate the Bema on behalf of our founder Mani. And it was on the eve of this festival, as the yellow moon illuminated the world outside the window with a silver incandescence, that Lea and I were together again. Quiet and solemn we sat for a long time and I contemplated her loveliness realising that my attitude towards her had changed over these months. It had moved from wonder to reverence to surrender and finally to a strong insatiable love. But it was not the love of a man for a woman. At least I did not think so. I would liken it to the love of a man for the beauty of the mountains and the wisdom of the seasons, a love for the personification of nature as a woman, the Demeter of the Greeks or the Diana of the Romans. For is it not nature herself that makes our ears and eyes more attentive? Is it not through nature that we can learn to grasp subtleties and fine distinctions? The wisdom in the heart of this elfin girl had grown in me a love for everything visible and there is nothing more noble or sacred than a quiet, dispassionate love. This is the love I felt as I sat before Lea. That is when I started to worry for her safety.
‘I still do not know who you are, Lea.’ I told her, ‘Whether you are a spirit or a person, an image or likeness, or just an old man’s pleasant dream. I do not know! But when I begin to think you real, my dear, I am terrified for what will happen to you!’
She looked upon this as she looked upon everything, with equanimity and silent acknowledgement, and yet I did see that her spirit, beautiful and sincere as it was, had become completely absorbed by my words. She inclined her head in thought before she spoke. ‘I am what man has made me and what I will be is also in the hands of men. This is my destiny. But my heart is certain of goodness because I have found it in your heart, pairé, and that is how I know that one day I will be released from my imprisonment.’
The poor naïve child! What did she know of the hate of men? I resolved to instruct her. ‘Listen to me Lea, I don’t believe the inquisitors will stand by while the enemies of their faith walk away. As soon as we are off this pog they will make their arrests and despite the French assurances all those who do not die on the pyre will be thrown into prisons. Have you heard tell of them, my dear? No light, no food except bread and water, with your wrists shackled to the wall for days, months, years! Matteu comes soon, by way of the Porteil Chimney. He will take the treasures of our church over the wall with him. He is also taking the Marquésia’s child and three perfects. It would not be difficult to convince him to take you as well, what do you say?’