Temple of the Grail(55)

There! I had indeed been correct. He had been following us.

‘I find your abbey exceptional, Brother Setubar. Only today I have learnt so much.’

‘Have you indeed?’ The old man raised his brows and narrowed his eyes a touch.

‘Yes . . . and one thing puzzles me.’

The man leant solicitously in my master’s direction. ‘If I may be of assistance?’

‘This is the thing, venerable brother, abbeys for the most part display an immeasurable preoccupation with past accomplishments which, at times, you might agree, tends to border on the sin of pride. Here, however, no one can tell me much beyond one or two generations, much less who founded the abbey and when.’

‘As you can ascertain from your own lips, preceptor, we Cistercians are not vainglorious like those Cluniacs you may know in the large cities. We walk the hallowed halls built by our forefathers and we sing God’s praise in the stalls built from their sainted hands, and we pray each day in our venerated church that we might preserve our humility and our temperance. What else is there to know?’

‘It is only that I am intrigued as to the origins of your monastery.’

The old man nodded his head thoughtfully. ‘As is always the case, thirteen brothers – the mirror of Christ and his twelve apostles – set out to find a lonely place, a place where they could feel the spirit of God most readily; a place far from the temptations of a wicked world. The rest you see before you. It is simple.’

‘Yes, you are indeed so secluded that, in fact, not one of your abbots has ever attended a meeting of the general chapter. To some this might appear strange.’

An evil look passed over the old man’s face. ‘It is very difficult for an abbot to leave his monks, there are too many considerations, there is the weather, and time of year, for as you know we are very often not able to travel the road that leads out of the forest. And there is also the distance, as you have seen for yourself. In any event, the things that are discussed at such gatherings have little to do with our small community, preceptor. They are only for those whose motivations are governed by political considerations, those who live in the shadows cast by kings and popes. We, on the other hand, live in the shadows cast by the great mountain that feeds us and quenches our thirst.’

‘Yes, that is another thing that I have learnt today, venerable brother.’ My master cleared his throat and at the same time changed the subject. ‘So you have lived here all your life?’

‘What has that got to do with anything?’ he answered.

‘I was hoping that you could tell me, for I also am a lover of architecture, how long it has been since the new additions were made to the church.’

The old man frowned, ‘Additions?’

‘Yes, surely you must remember. For I was only speaking to Brother Macabus today on that very topic, only I forgot to ask him . . .’

‘Ahh, yes, yes. I’m afraid my mind is becoming addled. The additions . . . it was so long ago. Forgive me,’ he shook his head.

‘It is of no consequence, once again curiosity. Perhaps the abbot might help me. In any case we must not take up any more of your time, Brother Daniel needs his rest,’ my master said very quickly.

‘Nonsense!’ said Brother Daniel with emotion.

‘No Daniel,’ Setubar affirmed. ‘The preceptor, who is also a physician, can see the pallor on your cheeks. Come and I will read to you from the gospels.’

‘The pallor on my cheeks!’ the man said indignantly. ‘Am I a maiden that I must wear a sanguine expression?’ Then, ‘Are there any more raisins?’

‘No more today, as I have told you before.’ Setubar locked Daniel’s arms into his and directed him to the ambulatory, but before they could enter the south transept, Daniel called out to us without turning,

‘’Let the hymn baptise you with the nine resonances of water. Beware, the antichrist is at hand!’

We remained for a little while in the Lady Chapel and then strolled out into the graveyard through the north transept door and into the cold winter day, meditating on Brother Daniel’s revelations.

‘So, brother Setubar did not remember the church alterations. Is that significant?’ I asked.

‘It would have been more significant if he had.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘What do you mean how do I mean, boy! There were no alterations . . . I simply made that up, so when he suddenly made excuses for his lapse in memory I knew that he was not being truthful.’

‘But you said Brother Macabus –’

‘I know what I said.’

‘But then you have lied yourself!’ I said aghast.