“Well said! He—”
Once again all eyes turned toward the priest, who sighed. “Pardon, again, Alwin. Please, say more.”
“Ja. It was near Pentecost when I was ordered to France along with a small company of Templar knights and lesser brethren. We numbered about twenty-eight when we gathered in Paris. Our orders were to protect a papallegate soon to be sent to counsel an army arrayed against a growing heresy in the south of France.
“We were told that the heretics teach that two powers control all things: Jehovah, the benevolent Lord of light, rules the realm of the spirit; while the equally empowered lord of the material world, Lucifer, rules things temporal, including the flesh in which men’s spirits are imprisoned. They preach that Christ was spirit only; He had no physical, earthly body, so our Holy Mother had no pain in childbirth. He was sent by Jehovah so that men might be liberated from all things temporal.
“They deny the sacraments, the Holy Trinity, the resurrection, prayer, and the Holy Church. They are forbidden to eat eggs or meat of any kind. To them sexual union is the greatest sin, for it perpetuates the world of the flesh by causing birth. They have their own bishops and deacons, and they lay hands on one another to pass on spiritual power. Their elite live plain lives, utterly committed to the laws of their creed. They are called the perfecti. The followers are called the crecientes. I suppose they do their best, but they are weaker men who hope to enter a higher state on their deathbeds.”
Pieter rose angrily. “Bondage mongers! They abuse the fools that follow them. They are no better than the Church they oppose!”
“Are you finished?” Heinrich groused.
Pieter grumbled, then sat down once more. “Aye. Pardon, Alwin. Please, go on.”
Alwin walked toward the provisions piled near Paulus and withdrew the Templar sword. “Father Pieter, it is teaching such as yours that defeats the snares of heretics, not this.” He drove the sword into the earth at the center of the circle. Sitting, he continued. “The pope insisted that King Philip of France destroy the Cathari and eliminate their creed by violence. The king, however, was more concerned with the English. Unfortunately, a papal legate, one Pierre de Castelnau, was murdered in Provence. We were then ordered to prepare a holy war against the heretics, that ‘sinister race of Languedoc,’ and soon the pope issued his bull that granted all knights crusader status. This meant that in death our souls would fly to heaven and that in life we’d be offered the lands of the slain heretics. So you might imagine how quickly the army filled with landless knights feigning piety!
“I was told we numbered nearly fifty thousand men-at-arms. We followed the Rhône toward Provence, where we joined a papal legate named Arnaud-Amaury. He was to act as the spiritual adviser to the crusade and was later elected archbishop of the conquered territory.
“We learned that even the local Catholic lords were preparing to resist us. Our army ransacked countless villages on our way to Béziers, then destroyed a pathetic sortie sent from that woeful town. It was there that my faith was crushed. We seized the town with ease, of course, but then I hid in a dark corner as our army slew nearly twenty thousand men, women, and children—Cathar and Catholic alike. In the middle of the slaughter, my preceptor challenged the papal legate. We ought spare the Catholics!’ he cried. To which Arnaud-Amaury replied, ‘Kill them all; God will find His own!’” Alwin shuddered and fell silent.
The listeners shifted uneasily, looking at one another with troubled faces. Alwin proceeded to tell more of the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon the terrified citizens of Béziers in such descriptive language as might give nightmares to the most hardened of hearts. He went on to speak of other battles: the siege of Carcassonne and the death of thousands to disease, hunger, and thirst; the mutilation of prisoners in Bram; and of stake burnings in Minerve and Lavour.
“Then Montfort ordered us to attack small fortresses and towns all around Toulouse. I’d had enough. It made me vomit to think of what we were doing in the name of God. I wanted to slay the pope! I could barely pray, I ate during fasts, and I refused to read the psalms at chapter. No, the confusion of it was more than I could bear.
“Then, about four months ago, I was sent with two brethren and a company of German knights to a small village near Albi. We were to demand the lord release all known Cathari to our custody for burning. When we arrived—and we numbered about two score—we were met with a pitiful group of armed Catholic farmers wishing to defend their neighbors and their own homes. I was astonished. In their midst was a brave priest. I remember his final words. The conscience is reached by love!’ he cried. I suppose he would have said more, but an arrow was shot through his head, and we charged the brave defenders.