Temple of the Grail(72)

‘I am the abbot of the monastery of St Lazarus, of the Order of Cistercians. From the beginning our community has been dedicated to duties deemed worthy by our founders. Healing the sick is only one of the many tasks which we conduct in all humbleness, in the service of our Lord. We believe in God, the Holy Spirit, Christ our redeemer, and the church whose likeness is His reflection on earth,’ said the abbot with ardour. ‘We stand before you innocent of the accusations which have been levelled against us and I ask the venerable judges to open their hearts to justice and fairness. How are we to be accused if the accuser does not appear before you, so that he also may be subject to interrogation?’

‘Dear abbot, witnesses are to be held in secret, as you know. You may, on the other hand, make a list of your enemies and we shall see if the two coincide.’ The inquisitor displayed his white teeth and I could not help but compare them to the sharp teeth on the devils in my dream. ‘It should be sufficient that the pope has considered these allegations serious enough to warrant these inquiries. I trust you do not presume to have a greater wisdom in matters of dissent?’

‘It is my duty to believe whatever the pope would have me believe, your grace, as any good Christian.’

‘Yes, but what, dear brother, do you consider constitutes a good Christian?’

Even I sensed the inquisitor was preparing a trap for the abbot and it did not escape my master either for he whispered in my ear that this was the standard line of questioning used on Waldensians who, he said, had been taught the correct ways of evading questions of this kind.

‘He who believes with fullness of heart in God, His son and the Holy Spirit, and the teachings of the holy church,’ answered

Bendipur.

‘I would like to know what you mean by holy church?’

The abbot paused, slightly confused. The inquisitor found this to his advantage, for he immediately launched into his attack.

‘Do you not know what is meant by the holy church?’ he asked, moving off the dais and walking around the centre of the room.

‘I believe that the holy church is the means through which God works his purposes on earth, the priesthood handed down to the apostle St Peter who was the regent of Christ.’

‘The holy Roman church over which the lord pope presides?’

‘If it upholds the laws of God, yes.’

‘If?’ He looked around incredulously, ‘Why do you say ‘if’? Do you not believe that it does?’

‘I believe.’

‘Please, abbot, I am confused. Do you believe that it does, or that it does not?’

‘I believe that men do what they can to interpret the will of God.’

‘But the pontiff is the reflection of God on earth, is he not?’

‘Should I not indeed believe this?’ he asked, and I noticed that his answer was formulated in such a way that the inquisitor could not affirm whether he did or did not believe it.

‘I ask not, my dear abbot, if you should . . . but if you do!’ the inquisitor cried impatiently.

‘My belief is the same as yours, the same as all men of the church.’

‘I pray, dear abbot, that you are answering my questions in this way because of your innocence and not, in fact, because of your guilt!’ He turned to the judges, ‘As our illustrious brother Alain of Lille has dictated in his treatise, Enchiridion Fontium Valdensium.’

There were a number of communal nods of support from the legation, though they did not dare look at one another. They merely looked at the congregation with grim faces, bearing down their condescension.

My master whispered to me that it did seem as though the abbot was well versed in the rules of interrogation, but I could not believe it. I liked the abbot.

‘In any case, my beliefs are not in question here,’ the inquisitor dismissed, ‘I will advise you to answer my questions simply and without dissimulation.’

‘In all ways possible.’

‘I sincerely hope so, Abbot Bendipur! Now, please, illuminate us on your healing methods.’

‘We pray over the sick, we use what we know about the healing properties of plants and minerals. We anoint with oil and holy water.’

‘Where do you do this work?’

‘In the infirmary. After a diagnosis and treatment with medicaments prescribed by our brother infirmarian, the patient is anointed and blessed.’

‘Where is the infirmarian?’ Rainiero Sacconi looked around the room. Asa rose slowly, head bowed. When he drew his cowl I thought his face looked thinner than before.

‘Abbot, you may sit down for the moment. Now, brother infirmarian, please inform us about the curative treatment of your patients.’