Stories from Heaven's Library - Vol. 24

The Perfect Ones - BOOK 6

As told by Sir Walter Scott

"Above all these things, put on love, which is the bond of perfectness" (Col.3:14).

XVI - THE PLAN
         Dusk was falling as the four horsemen, wrapped in heavy cloaks to fend off the cool night air, rode into the troubled city of Toulouse. The watchmen at the gate were busily preparing to lower the portcullis [1] for the night, so paid scant attention to the four as they rode in.
         They cantered through the now-deserted marketplace, and headed up the narrow street that Malcolm had taken the first day he had arrived in Toulouse. So much had happened since that day, Malcolm thought. Soon they were at Guy and Heloise's inn.
         Malcolm recalled how happy he was to have at last ridden into that open courtyard in front of the inn. This time as they arrived, there was no welcoming light cast from the open fireplace. Instead, the inn was dark and melancholy.
         Malcolm and Guillaume exchanged worried glances. Malcolm dismounted and marched up to the door. It was then that he saw the parchment nailed to it--a proclamation stating that the operator of this inn, one Guy, and his sister, had been arrested for heresy along with others joined to that way of error known as the Cathars. They would stand trial before the ecclesiastical and secular authorities on the day after the morrow.
         Malcolm ripped the document from the door and crushed it in his hands.
         It was then that a figure moved out from the shadows. Malcolm whirled around. Guillaume had seen it too, as had the others.
         "Halt!" said Malcolm.
         "Oh, Malcolm! It is you!" cried a familiar voice.
         "Esme!" Guillaume and Malcolm chorused.
         As the gypsy girl moved closer, the moonlight shone on her face.
         "My dear Esme!" cried Guillaume. "What are you doing here?" He quickly dismounted and rushed over to her.
         "Oh, Guillaume!" cried Esme as she rushed into his arms. "They've taken them! They've taken them! Your uncle's soldiers have arrested Giles and the rest of them. They were all at Francis the baker's shop, and they have been taken to the dungeons in your uncle's castle."
         "We've got to get them out at once," said Malcolm to Guillaume.
         "Of course we do," replied Guillaume. "But Esme, why are you still here? I thought you'd gone!"
         A tear made its way down the girl's face.
         "I had. But every mile we rode away from here, my heart broke even more, until I could bear it no longer. My father saw my agony and finally entrusted me to the care of some merchants coming north. I traveled with them and arrived just yesterday--in time to see the spectacle at the baker's shop, and to see my beloved teacher Giles being led away, together with Guy and Heloise and the others. But I knew you would come. God told me you would come. I heard His voice speaking to me, saying that you would be here soon, and to wait. And so I concealed myself in the stables at the back of the inn. The old man is still inside, but he did not notice me.
         "When I heard the sound of horses on the cobblestones out front I came around. At first I thought you could be the bishop's men or the count's soldiers, for I did not recognize you under those cloaks. It wasn't until I saw you tear the decree from the door that I took the chance that you were friends."
         "Come, my sweet darling," said Guillaume. "You are trembling. We must get you inside."
         "But it is not safe here!" insisted Esme.
         "We know the soldiers have arrested the two they were looking for here, so chances are that they will not come back. That probably makes this place safer than most right now. Malcolm, see if you can find Guy's father."
         Malcolm and Hamish walked around to the back of the inn, where they entered and found the old man. After some time and effort, they managed to raise him from his sleep. He, being senile, did not at first understand the gravity of what had happened to his son and daughter. But after some patient reasoning, it seemed that he had sufficiently grasped the severity of the situation and agreed to let them all stay there. Then he retired to his room.
         Hamish and Dougal had learned over the years to be creative cooks, preparing edible and even tasty meals from whatever ingredients were available. The two of them looked around the kitchen. Even though the place hadn't been re-provisioned since Guy and Heloise had been taken two days earlier, they were able to prepare a passable meal for the hungry group. After eating, the five of them sat around the table trying to formulate a plan whereby they might rescue their loved ones.
         "It's simple!" Malcolm contended. "If they're in the same dungeon I was, then there are the secret passageways."
         "There is only one dungeon connected to the passageways. If they're not in that one, then we're sunk," replied Guillaume.
         "Well, we'll just have to take the chance that that is indeed where they are," said Malcolm.
         "Aye, but that be only the first step!" said Hamish. "We've got a secret passageway into the dungeon. That part's easy. But what are ya' gonna do then? How are ya' gonna get them out o' the city?"
         "There are many passageways, as you well know, Malcolm," said Guillaume, "and one leads to a concealed entrance in the wall of the castle. Unfortunately it doesn't lead outside the city walls. We're going to have to time it so that our escape coincides with the opening of the city gates. I think all we can do then is make a mad dash for it. We could head for the north gate through the district called the Bourg, where there are many Cathar sympathizers."
         "And then what will ya' do when 'ya're out o' the city? Where will ya' go from there?" asked Dougal.
         "I don't know," said Guillaume. "I don't know. All I know is, I want no more of war--certainly not this war and not now."
         "Well," stated Hamish, seeing the young man's apparent anguish of heart but wanting to get the planning back on track, "we shall need extra horses, for we canna' just take everyone on ours. And what will we do with the others in the cell with them? We can't take them all with us!"
         "I dare say they won't all want to go with us!" said Guillaume, looking at Hamish and Dougal. "Their families and relatives are here. They'll probably just try to squirrel themselves away at some of their relatives' houses and hope they don't get found. As for horses, I think that I'd best leave that to you two rogues."
         "Well, we do need some planning here," said Malcolm. "We need to calculate exactly how long it's going to take to get these people out of the dungeon and out of the city before people realize what's going on."
         "We must do it just before dawn," said Guillaume. "The guard will be changed at both the dungeon and at the city gates right about then. Just before the change, the last watch goes around to make sure all is well. There will be some time before the new jailers get around to check the dungeons again. At the city gates, the guards there will be opening them and preparing for all the farmers coming into the city with their market goods, so they will be concentrating on people coming in rather than going out."
         "Guillaume, are you sure you want to do this?" said Esme, bringing up a subject that the others had avoided until now. "This would be throwing away your birthright. You will be regarded as a traitor for going against your uncle's wishes."
         "I have no uncle--not anymore," retorted Guillaume. "I trusted him. Even when I thought I shouldn't, I still did. Now I see that to him it was all a great game in order to preserve his position. He doesn't have the rectitude [2] or courage to stand up for the truth. He caved in to serve his own ends. I don't want to end up like that. No, I'd rather be a wanderer--and a penniless one at that--than to stay here."
         "But it's not just your uncle--it's your father, your mother, and the prestige and power you have grown up with!" Esme added.
         Guillaume shrugged. "Maybe I will be able to come back after awhile," he said with his voice trailing off. Then he continued in a more forceful tone. "My heart is with you and Heloise and Guy and the rest of the Cathars. I cannot fight against them, which I will have to do if I stay. So I will go somewhere else--somewhere where I won't have to wrestle with these questions."
         "Well, maybe we could use a little French influence back in MacAlpin Hall," said Dougal. Malcolm and Hamish seconded the invitation.
         "I thank you," said Guillaume. "That would be an honor."
         "Well, wee brother," said Hamish to Malcolm. "Do ya' think ya might be comin' home then, after this?"
         Malcolm looked up. "Well, I don't see much of a future for me here. Of course I'd have to get the consent of my lovely lady, and right now I am not in the position to ask her."
         "That's where we come in," said Dougal. "We'll get ya' in a position to ask."
         "If we get out of this in one piece, and we can figure out a way to get home, I'll gladly go," said Malcolm. "But getting out of the castle and even the city is one thing. As you and I know, the only city where we're going to find a ship to Scotland is Ghent, and that is way to the north in Flanders. To get there we will have to travel through hostile territory the whole way!"
         "One step at a time is all I can manage," said Hamish. "It boggles m' brain to try and figure the whole thing out. Well begun is half dun, I say. We canna' foresee every detail. If God be on our side, as I pray He be, then I think we ha'e nothin' to fear."
         "Well, we should all turn in," said Guillaume. "We'll have to wake up early, and we'll be getting no sleep tomorrow."
         The three other men nodded their assent, and went upstairs to settle down in various rooms of the vacant inn. Guillaume and Esme remained, sitting in silence for some time, looking at each other. Finally Guillaume spoke up.
         "I love you more than all the world," he whispered. "I would die for you this night, in a moment. I have been with the noblest of ladies, yet none compares to you. I know not why I confess that to you, but I feel I must bare my soul and my heart. Fair Esme, my love for you is beyond measure. My desire to be wed to you is the greatest desire in my being."
         "It is unthinkable!" said Esme. "You are a man of noble birth, and I am an outcast. I could never be your bride, nor could I have your children."
         "But we can if we flee from this place, so that it is not known who we are!" insisted Guillaume. "I have struggled with this problem and this is what we must do. When I heard of my uncle's decision to place his position and power ahead of that which is right and good, that night I knew that I had to make a stand one way or the other. As I sat in the gloomy darkness, I prayed to God with all my heart for a sign. I knew that a few yards away, Malcolm also was in agony of heart. When I looked in the direction of where he sat, I saw an unearthly glow. It radiated beautiful colors of blue and gold. I wanted to rise up and shout to the others, 'Look, see what happens!' But I could not. I sat there, immobile, transfixed, staring.
         "Then, in the center of that glow, I made out the image of a man--tall, and strong, with arms outstretched. The blue and the gold undulated so that it looked like wings fluttering. I knew then that this was my sign, that God was with Malcolm and with those he loved. I knew then what I had to do. My loyalty was to be to the downtrodden, the weak, and the helpless, and not with my rich and fickle uncle. I told God that night that I would be His servant and that if I was to raise my sword again, it would be to defend those who cannot defend themselves.
         "Then my thoughts turned to you, and the words came to my heart, 'Fear not to take her for wife. She is a pearl of priceless value.' I said, 'Lord God, she is far away! I will never see her again!' And the voice came back to my heart saying, 'I do impossible things.'
         "Tonight, when I heard your voice and saw you walk out of the shadows, I almost fell off my horse! This was a sign to me also, and I knew then that God would bring all things to pass, as He had told me. So this day I beg thee: Be my wife, become the mother of my children. And I will be to thee a true and honest husband and protector."
         Esme could not control the tears. She cried, then she laughed, and then she cried once again. Then, after regaining a modicum [3] of composure, she looked the young nobleman in the eye and whispered, "Yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes!"
         With that, the two young lovers embraced. For what seemed like an eternity, the two kissed. At first, they were the shy and gentle kisses of first-time lovers, but gradually the passion mounted and the kisses became more fervent. Finally, Guillaume gathered her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs.
         Meanwhile, Malcolm lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He, too, was recalling that night when he left the campfire and wandered off to pray. He, too, knew that something mystical and wonderful had happened. He had not seen it, but he had felt an unearthly peace and a strengthening that he could not explain. He remembered how the confusion in his mind had suddenly fallen away.
         This was a dying land. It was doomed. He knew that his mission here was over. There remained only one thing: To rescue Heloise, and for them to flee this country that would be rent by war and destruction.--To flee with the light of truth that he had found, and with the love of his life. Home! Home to Scotland, and there to spread the wondrous truth of his new faith among his own.
         "Dear God, bless this mission we undertake tomorrow," he prayed. "Strengthen my hands! Strengthen my resolve! Help me to be Your instrument of deliverance this day to those that I love. They are in the hands of persecutors which are far stronger than I. Strengthen my arm, for I know that only by Your power and Your might will we succeed in our mission tomorrow. Give me sleep now, and peace of heart, for tomorrow we will either succeed and deliver our loved ones, or else, dear Jesus, I will be gathered into Your arms. Let me succeed tomorrow, or I will die trying."

XVII--FLIGHT
         Guy woke from a fitful sleep at the sound of a loud clank. It was the shutter of the latticed window at the top of the cell door being opened. For a few moments the opening was lit by a flaming torch. A fleeting shaft of light illuminated the room, as the jailer peered in from the other side.
         Satisfied that his charges were all still present, the jailer slammed the shutter closed. Once again, the dungeon was plunged into darkness.
         Heloise woke with a start at the second noise. "Shhh! Hush, girl!" whispered Guy. "It was only the jailer checking on us again."
         Since they'd been in the dungeon, they had lost all track of time. There were no windows to give them any indication whether it was day or night. Guy, trying to estimate how long they'd been there by the number of times the guard had checked on them, figured that it was a little over two days, but that was just a guess.
         They had not been fed at all since they had been thrown into the dungeon. The wounded woman had died quietly some time before. Giles had sat next to her the entire time, holding her hand, softly praying for her and speaking words of comfort. There was nothing to give her for surcease from the pain she must have felt, but for some reason, shortly after they had been thrown into the cell, a peace had come over her. It had been as if some divine hand had dealt her a potion to ease her suffering.
         Giles had not only been a source of strength for the woman, but for all those in the dungeon. After some gentle chiding, Francis the baker had stopped accusing Agnes of leading the count's men to their meeting, and the two were reconciled.
         All told, there were fewer than a dozen of them in this cell. Since there was no light in the room, the only way they knew where the others were was through the sound of their voices and through touch. At first, it seemed to all of them like they had been confined to an abysmal blackness, but soon a peace and serenity that they all knew could have only come from God settled over them and helped them transcend the horror of their conditions. At times, some had started despairing, or breaking down and crying. But they were able to encourage each other and, even in their miserable condition, they had managed to regularly say prayers and sing songs of thanksgiving.
         Unexpectedly, a new sound reached Guy's ears.--The sound of rock grinding on rock.
         Francis let out a yell: "The wall's moving at my back!"
         "Move back! Get out of the way!" a hushed voice could be heard through the wall.
         "I shall not get out of the way," retorted Francis, "until I be sure what friend or foe thou art!"
         "Please move, Francis," Giles' voice came out of the darkness. "I'm sure if they were foe, they would not be coming in this way."
         Francis crawled forward on the floor, and soon the stone door that was the concealed entrance from the passageways into the dungeon swung open.
         The bright and flickering light of a torch suddenly filled the room, momentarily blinding all those who had been in the dungeon.
         After a moment of stunned silence, the room suddenly became a beehive of commotion.
         "Shhh! Everyone, please quiet down!" pleaded Malcolm.
         Heloise immediately recognized Malcolm's voice. Her eyes had not adjusted to the light enough for her to make out the figure that had come into their midst, but she knew that voice! She would have screamed out his name, had her cry not been stifled by Guy, who quickly put his hand over her mouth. "Shhh! If we make too much noise, we'll alert the guards!"
         "Malcolm!" said Heloise in an excited whisper. "I knew you'd come!"
         "I couldn't leave you like this!" said Malcolm. "Quickly, now, all of you! We must make good our escape. They will soon be coming for you, to take you to trial. We must be well away from here before your absence is noticed."
         By now, Guillaume was also in the room, and he quickly began ushering the startled occupants into the secret passageway.
         Giles paused a moment, and looked down on the poor dead woman who still lay in the corner of the room, and then he, too, scurried out of the dungeon.
         Guillaume led the way. Malcolm took up the rear, with Heloise and Guy. Once all were out of the room, he grabbed hold of the iron ring that was set in the concealed door and pulled it closed.
         "That jailer is certainly going to be surprised when he comes looking for you," said Malcolm to Guy.
         "I wish him such a fright that he will loose his bowels in the process," said Guy.
         "Well, that would certainly add to the stench in that hole," said Malcolm.
         The two smiled at each other.
         "We don't have much time for pleasantries right now," said Malcolm, quickly embracing Guy. "We must not lose sight of the others. We've gotten you out of this dungeon, but we still have a long way to go to get us all to safety."
         The three scurried along and caught up with the others.
         Heloise and Malcolm were only able to exchange a few words.
         "We'll have plenty of time for talking afterwards," Malcolm had told her. "But there are yet many perils ahead of us this day."
         After a great many twists and turns, Guillaume stopped.
         "The exit is here," he said. "Guy! Malcolm! Help me push."
         Guillaume and Malcolm had come in this way a short while earlier, and Hamish and Dougal had closed the entrance after them, lest someone stumble upon it by chance and raise the alarm.
         The stone doorway gave way, and people in the passageway quickly filed out into the early morning air.
         "Ah, there ya' be, and right on time!" said Hamish.
         "Hamish! Dougal!" cried Heloise, as she came out of the tunnel. "May God bless you!"
         "Aye, and He 'as!--He's blessed us with a bonnie sister-in-law!"
         Heloise blushed and looked over at Malcolm.
         "The horses are just around the corner here. There were several merchants and gentlemen staying at an inn not far from here, who've graciously allowed us the use of their fine horses."
         "You asked them?" said Malcolm quizzically.
         "Well, we didn't have time for that, brother!" said Dougal. "Besides, we would have had to wake 'em up, and that wouldn'a been very nice, now would it?"
         Giles was talking to several of the other escapees.
         "Hurry, brother Giles! We must flee!" said Guy.
         "All in God's good time," said Giles. He then turned to Guillaume. "You've risked your life, noble sire, to rescue us. And now, let us help you. To flee with all of us will only slow you down. The rest of us are townsfolk from here; we will manage to disappear into the city. There are many sympathizers here who will hide us, especially in the Bourg. Take Guy and Heloise. We will make sure that their father is looked after."
         "Giles, you must come with us!" said Guy. "They are seeking you above all!"
         "If the shepherd flees, the sheep shall be scattered," said Giles. "No, I will stay here amongst my flock. Fear not, for I shall make it very difficult for them to find me."
         "Come now! We must away!" said Hamish, who had just brought the horses.
         A slight figure walked in his huge shadow.
         "Esme!" said Heloise. "What are you doing here?"
         "It's a long story, and there's not much time to tell it," said Esme. "So let us wait until we have fled this place."
         "Malcolm, I have scarcely ridden a horse!" said Heloise with a note of concern rising in her voice.
         "Then you will ride with me," said Malcolm.
         Malcolm had already mounted his horse, and he reached down and pulled Heloise up into his arms. "What about you, Guy?"
         "Oh, I've had enough experience, I think!" he said, mounting a large roan [4] gelding [5].
         "You've got a lot of horse under you there," Malcolm said jocularly [6].
         Hamish and Dougal were already in their saddles. Esme had also mounted a horse, and the speed and skill with which she got the originally skittish mare under control showed that she was not without equestrian [7] experience.
         "Time to go!" said Guillaume, and the horses took off at a canter through the quiet streets.
         The rest of the rescued hurried themselves along. They were familiar with the town, and they quickly disappeared into the multitude of alleyways that interlaced the city. Giles paused at the entrance of one of them and turning, raised his hand in a farewell salute to his friends who were fast moving out of sight down the early morning street. "May God go with you, and bring you to your desiring," he whispered. Then, with a flourish of his cloak, he was gone.
         Guillaume knew that the alarm could be raised at any time now, but not wanting to raise too much suspicion, he prudently decided not to take off at a mad gallop through the town. Instead, he kept his horse at a steady trot. The others followed close behind.
         The townsfolk were starting to emerge from their houses, and although the sight of people riding horses was not uncommon, some still seemed to look at them with more than a normal curiosity--or so it seemed.
         After rounding a few more turns in the road, the north gate came into view. There was quite a lot of hustle and bustle, as farmers riding wagons carrying all sorts of vegetables and other foodstuffs were making their way into the city.
         Several of the guards at the gate stood around in a small group, chatting with each other, while one or two others scrutinized the farmers as they came in.
         Guillaume took a deep breath, and slowly cantered towards the gate. His every impulse was to spur his horse on, but he restrained himself. Pulling his felt hat over his face, he slowed his horse to a lazy walk as he went by the guards and through the gates. "Good morrow!" he said gruffly, in an attempt to disguise his voice.
         One of the guards grunted a reply.
         Guillaume was through the gate now. Esme was right behind him. Guy was next, followed by Malcolm and Heloise. Hamish and Dougal were bringing up the rear. Everything had gone almost too well up to this point.
         Then, just as Hamish and Dougal, rode under the raised portcullis, an alarm bell began to toll. The tolling was taken up by other bells throughout the city. The guards quickly snapped out of their reverie and started shouting and yelling at different ones. "Get out of the way! Get out of the way! We've got to close the gate! Bring down the portcullis."
         Hamish swung his legs out and then in, his spurs digging into his horse's flesh. Immediately the horse took off with a start and broke into a mad gallop.
         The other riders also took the cue and spurred their horses into a gallop.
         For those who were used to riding horses, this was not a difficult thing, but for Guy, whose horse riding experience was minimal, keeping his powerful horse under control was almost more than he could manage. The horse reared up several times.
         The guards, by this time realizing that the horsemen may have had something to do with the alarm bells, shouted at them to halt.
         Guy valiantly tried to get his horse under control, but the horse, unfamiliar with its rider and riled [8] by the bells and commotion, kept rearing up and turning in circles. One of the guards rushed out to grab the horse by its reins, and pull its rider down. But then, just in the nick of time, the horse turned and bolted after the others. Guy held on for dear life.
         Soon arrows were flying around him as guards posted on the city walls above the gate opened fire. The others by now were well out of range, but Guy, for several perilous minutes, was in range of the bowmen.
         Gamely [9] he urged his horse on while at the same time praying that he would somehow manage to hold on.
         Hamish and Dougal saw what was happening and reined their steeds in. After one look at each other, they knew instinctively what they had to do. By now, Guy's horse had left the road and was galloping across open fields.
         The two spurred on their horses, trying to catch up with him.
         After a long chase that included jumping several hedgerows, they finally caught up with Guy. As they rode up, one on either side, they reached down and grabbed the horse's reins, and then pulled it in.
         Guy was shaking. "Oh, gentlemen, I thank you!"
         "Ya're welcome," said Hamish. "You sure led us on a bonnie chase, friend! Quick, we must take off after the others. Here, grab the reins more firmly and stick close by us. Soon they'll be after us! No time for riding lessons now, ya'll just have to learn as ya' go."
         With the horse more under control now, the three set off at a gallop to catch up with the others. As they headed up to the road, Hamish looked back and could see a troop of horsemen exiting from the same gate.
         "Oh, good God!" exclaimed Hamish. "Everything was going so well! Now the guard is after us already."
         After dashing over some fields, they were back on the road. Ahead, they could see the dust being kicked up by the others' horses. The idea had been to flee northwest into the Angevin lands, which were nominally under the control of King John of England. They had planned to travel as far as they could on the first day, and even ride through the night if they could. Their initial destination was the Massif Central, and there they hoped to lose any pursuers in the many valleys of that mountain range.
         "At least we have a small head start," said Malcolm to Heloise. "Hold on tight to the horse's mane."
         "I am! I'm holding on for dear life!" cried Heloise, her hair already a flying mess of tangles. "But where is Guy?"
         "Don't worry!" Malcolm shouted over the noise of the horse's pounding hoofs on the rugged path. "Hamish and Dougal are looking after him. We just need to ride as far and as fast as we can. This horse is carrying double weight so he will tire sooner than the others. We must put as much distance between us and Toulouse as we can."
         "Malcolm," said Heloise.
         "Yes," said Malcolm.
         "Thank you for rescuing me."
         "It is the best thing I have done in my whole life," said Malcolm. "But hold on; we're in for a rough time of things!"

XVIII - MARTIN'S KEEP
         The ride had been long and hard. There had been two river crossings to make; one over the River Tarn, at the town of Montauban, and a second across the Aveyron. They were now close to the town of Caussade, beyond which rose the foothills of the Massif Central. There they hoped to find temporary refuge while they planned the rest of their perilous journey.
         For some reason, the troop of horses that had been pursuing them from Toulouse had pulled up after about an hour, and had returned to the city. Perhaps they had been ill-prepared to mount a sustained chase at this time. But for whatever reason they had gone back, the fugitive band was relieved to be able to slow their escape and thereby conserve the strength of both themselves and their horses.
         As they approached the town, they were greeted by the steward of a local nobleman named Martin--a man known for his charitable works and hospitality--and were invited to take rest in the guest chambers of his small, but nonetheless well-fortified keep.
         His pretty daughter Hilda, her long blonde hair done up in braids that were curled around on both sides of her head, busied herself with their care. Her father was a well-known Cathar, as were all the members of his family. He had earned a reputation, second to none in the area, for his piety, charity and good works. Although of noble birth, he and his family dressed in plain, simple clothes. Many times it was hard to distinguish between them and their servants, as they all seemed to be one big family and treated each other with great kindness.
         "Come and rest with us a while," said Martin. "We can tell you've come a long way and have ridden hard. You must rest and regain your strength before you carry on in your journey. You are welcome to the hospitality of my table for as long as you desire."
         "You are most gracious in your hospitality, sire," said Guillaume. "My companions and I are most grateful."
         "You look familiar," said Martin to Guillaume, as he stared at the young man. "Are you by chance related to Raymond, count of our realm?"
         "You are very astute [10]," said Guillaume. "Yes, I am his nephew. I believe I met you once at a great gathering of nobility in Toulouse many years ago. You are not a regular visitor to our court."
         "Indeed I am not, young man," replied Martin. "I do not find great pleasure amongst other nobility, for my tastes are simple, as is my life, and that of my household. Although I joy in this life, my hope is fixed on the next. And so, I seek to fulfill my God's injunctions: to love my neighbor as myself, to show charity and hospitality, and, having food and clothing, to be content. I am not a martial man as I see you and your companions are, but I seek to follow the way of Christ in the perfect form.
         "You must realize that my sympathies, and indeed, my part, lies with the Cathars and their purity and holiness, and not with the church that claims dominion over my soul. I hope only to be left in peace, but when strangers come, to offer them my hospitality."
         "Well spoken, sire," said Guillaume. "I, too, am with the Cathars, although perhaps my particular beliefs differ some from yours. Still, I do graciously accept your hospitality, and my companions and I will indeed respect you and your beliefs. Allow me to introduce my companions: This is Malcolm MacAlpin, of Scotland, lately in my uncle's service in the battle against the invaders. These are his two brothers, Hamish and Dougal, true and honest men, also pledged to my uncle's cause before he turned his back on his people and sought to save his own neck. And this is Guy, and Heloise his sister--Cathars from Toulouse and followers of Giles the tailor, who has earned somewhat of a reputation and is most likely known to you. And this is Esme, my betrothed, and also one of Giles' disciples."
         "Indeed, I have heard of this one called Giles," said Martin. "He is well-respected here in my house. You and all your companions are most welcome. From time to time, you will also find other visitors here, and at the moment there is one who professes to be a traveler--on what business he did not disclose. But I fear he is not in sympathy with our cause. So I would warn you to keep your voices low when you talk to each other.
         "I keep my doors open without discrimination, so even though I do not particularly like this man, still I am not able to refuse him my hospitality. But I warn you to be careful of him."
         "Thank you," said Guillaume. "We will take precautions. And how will I recognize this man?"
         "He has a broad scar across his cheek," said Martin.
         Esme gasped. Guillaume and Malcolm exchanged quick glances. Could it be?
         "Where is this man now?" inquired Malcolm.
         "Oh, he goes out by day--to do what, I know not," said Martin. "But you will see him at dinner. He never fails to return for the meal."
         "And could it be," said Martin, turning to Malcolm, "that you are that Scotsman who slew Albert of Aurillac in combat?"
         "I am indeed," confirmed Malcolm.
         "I see. News of that fight has reached far and wide, I can assure you," said Martin. "And I feel I must tell you that the estates of his cousin, Theobald, who I understand was his second in that combat, lie only twelve miles east of here. I would recommend, therefore, that while you are welcome to my hospitality for as long as you want, you had best be prudent and make your stay here short, for your own good. Now, my servant will escort you to your rooms."
* * *
         Unfortunately for our heroes, before Martin had passed on these warnings, their arrival had been spied by a horseman dressed in black. Perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the small castle, Bernard had watched the arrival of the mounted band with curiosity, at first not recognizing any of the group because of the cloaks and hoods that they wore.
         But as they dismounted, one of the party had pulled her hood off and had shaken free her dark, curly hair. Even from this distance Bernard had been sure that it was the girl who had started all his troubles--the one he had seen swimming in the river many months before.
         He quickly counted the five men and two women on six horses--formidable odds indeed, for the lone Bernard. Yet the sneer on his face quickly erupted into laughter; his time of vengeance had come! He whirled his horse around and headed east, towards the castle of Theobald, where his erstwhile employer, the Bishop Odo, would also soon be arriving to keep a prearranged rendezvous.
         It was nightfall when Bernard arrived at Theobald's estate. Already in the great hall, Odo and Theobald were seated at a table. A roaring fire burned in the hearth behind them, and as Bernard walked in the door, the flames silhouetted the forms of the two men.
         "Your Grace, your lordship," said Bernard, acknowledging both the men as he walked in.
         "Ah, Bernard, you have arrived," said Odo. "I have been discussing our plans with Theobald here, of what we shall do to enhance our prestige in the new regime being established in our fair lands. We have sworn allegiance to Simon de Montfort, and he will undoubtedly reward us with the estates of these accursed followers and sympathizers of the Cathars."
         "Indeed, your Grace," said Bernard. "But I bring you interesting news."
         "And what might that news be?" said Odo.
         "Today I spied a small troop of men and women arriving at the castle of Martin of Caussade, on whose hospitality I am presently prevailing. I recognized one of them almost immediately. And it was then that I recognized two others."
         "Go on," said Odo impatiently. "Stop being so mysterious. Tell us who they were."
         "It is none other than Lord Guillaume and that accursed Scotsman, Malcolm--the tormentor and slayer of your late cousin, Lord Theobald--and the gypsy wench who entranced me and caused me such great discomfiture and trouble."
         Odo and Theobald turned simultaneously and stared at Bernard.
         "Are you sure these are they?" demanded Theobald.
         "I am sure," said Bernard. "And there were four others with them. Two big fellows, one young man, and another woman whom I did not recognize."
         "The two big men," said Odo, "are the brothers of the Scot. They have gained the reputation of being formidable fighters, and have caused our Lord Simon de Montfort great trouble while they were in the employ of our fickle count. To capture these would indeed be a feather in our cap, don't you suppose?"
         "I have a blood feud [11] with that Scot," growled Theobald. "We can capture these others, but his head is mine."
         "As you desire," said Odo. "And that impudent puppy, Guillaume, has also caused me much discomfort. Today a messenger brought me news from Toulouse that some Cathars who had been thrown into the count's dungeon had mysteriously escaped. It is rumored that the count's own nephew had a hand in it, as he has not been anywhere seen since the incident.
         "So, it seems we have opportunity here to further our cause and to bring the count and his household yet more embarrassment and pain. When I take this upstart back to Toulouse in irons and prove he was indeed involved in this conspiracy, Raymond will have to pronounce the sentence of death upon his own beloved nephew. Ah yes, that shall cause me great pleasure! And to see that henchman of his, Godfrey, lose his precious son to the headsman's axe will cause me great satisfaction, for I am determined to destroy this count and all his house.
         "May I suggest, then," Bernard spoke, "that we head out several hours before daybreak, so that we arrive at Martin of Caussade's estate while our unsuspecting preys lie sleeping. And there we shall capture them, hopefully without bloodshed."
         "But if blood be spilt, then let it be theirs," Odo gleefully added.
         "I will round up the troop," said Theobald. "There are all together seven of them, you say?"
         Bernard nodded.
         "Then twenty armed and mounted soldiers should suffice. But the Scotsman is mine. I do not intend for him to be delivered up to Toulouse. His death is mine to devise and to execute."
         With this, Theobald marched out of the room, shouting for his steward, whom he charged to gather his armored men and have them ready to leave before dawn.
* * *
         Meanwhile, Malcolm, Guillaume and company were enjoying a good meal at Martin's table.
         "The man with the scar is not here," remarked Guillaume casually to Martin.
         "No, it is most unusual. Until now he has never failed to turn up for a meal. Perhaps he has left us. He rides out every morning, and then returns at supper. I don't know what he does, although I suspect he may be some sort of fugitive. Either that, or he is a henchman in the employ of some unknown master, and bides his time here while awaiting further orders."
         Guillaume and the others exchanged glances, but rather than pursue the subject further in front of their hosts, Guillaume thought it wise to change the subject.
         "So, you are also followers of the perfect way?" he inquired.
         "Yes, my family and I love and respect those who are truly Godly and follow the way of perfection," replied Martin.
         "And you say you have heard of Giles of Toulouse?"
         "Yes, I have," answered Martin. "He is known even among these parts, and respected also, although his ways are somewhat different than the Perfects of our adherence. But tonight we shall have two Perfects who have journeyed from Albi to meet with us, and if you so delight, you may join us."
         "It would be our pleasure," said Guillaume.
         "Very well, then. I expect them to be here within the hour. I will call you when the time is ready."
         "I will look forward to that, as will my companions, I am sure."
         As the servants came to collect what was left of the food, Guillaume, Malcolm and their whole party wandered out into the cool, crisp evening air. It was a cloudless sky, and from their vantage point on the castle walls, countless stars could be seen, and the mountain peaks lay dimly silhouetted against the sky.
         The two sets of lovers--Malcolm and Heloise, and Guillaume and Esme--walked off a little distance from the rest. The other three men sat on a stone bench just outside the turret through which they had ascended, and struck up conversation amongst themselves.
         "So, wee Guy," said Hamish. "Did they teach ya' anythin' in that militia training o' yours?"
         "Well, they gave me a pike [12] and told me to stick it in the ground and aim it forward. That was about the end of it."
         "By the saints, boy, ya're going to ha'e to learn more'n that if ya're going to defend ya'self."
         "I would love to learn to defend myself, but I have neither sword nor pike here."
         "I always carry an extra sword with me," explained Hamish. "I ha'e my huge brute of a thing, but I ha'e a smaller sword that I carry so I can pick me teeth aft'a good dinna, and as long as ya' promise to ha'e it around at meal times for me, I'll let ya' borrow it for now. For I fear that we're gonna ha'e some fightin' to do before we come home."
         Guy smiled at the giant's joke but then, in a more pensive mood, asked, "I take it you think I will be traveling all the way home with you?"
         "Well, what are ya choices?" asked Hamish.
         "I'm not sure," replied Guy. "With our flight I haven't had time to consider any alternatives. An innkeeper I don't suppose I would have to be, but I don't think a soldier's life's for me. I rather abhor killing and fighting. I only joined the militia because I thought I'd have to defend my sister and father and friends."
         "Those are noble intentions, my little friend, and I'm sure that ya' heart be in the right place. But ya're gonna ha'e to learn to defend yerself, o'erwise ya' just gonna go like a sheep to th' slaughter."
         As they so conversed, an hour quickly passed. A servant came out to summon the visitors back to the meeting room, and they joined Martin's family and servants. It seemed that some of the local townsfolk were also present. Once they all were assembled, Martin opened a side door and showed in two stately-looking people.
         Both were robed in long black garments, but the man had around his waist a leather belt, from which hung a scroll. Hilda, who had taken the liberty of seating herself with her father's guests, whispered to them that this scroll was a parchment copy of the New Testament.
         The room was brightly lit, and the two Perfects looked serene and peaceful. Tonight was to be a general confession, and although it would not have been the practice for any who had not formally been admitted into their numbers to attend, Martin had reasoned with the Perfects beforehand and they had agreed to allow these curious guests to observe, but not participate.
         The two, each in their turn, led the congregation in prayer, and then the woman (causing no small surprise to Malcolm and his brothers) preached a short sermon in which she outlined some of their doctrines: their renouncement of the Catholic church, their belief that this world is ruled by Satan, called the Evil One, and that it is the duty of believers to spend this life endeavoring to prepare themselves for a transition to the next. To accomplish this, one should endeavor to take the consolamentum before death, that their spirit would be ready to pass on to a greater life in the world to come, and that flesh and all that is associated with it is to be shunned, but that only after taking the consolamentum would the believer be required to do this consistently and for the rest of their lives. But it was sufficient, for now, simply to be a believer, and to wait on becoming a Perfect until near death, when failure to fulfill the requirements of a Perfect would mean damnation.

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FACT BOX ON THE CONSOLAMENTUM (Included on page where this ritual is mentioned):
         The Consolamentum: The Consolamentum was the rite of initiation into the ranks of the Perfects. In a brightly lit room filled with believers and sympathizers, the candidate stood before the senior Perfect and two assistants. A long homily outlined the obligations which the candidate was undertaking, and took him phrase by phrase through the Pater Noster (the Lord's Prayer), the only formal prayer which Christ Himself had taught and consequently the only one which the Cathars recognized. The candidate solemnly renounced the cross which had been marked upon his forehead at Catholic baptism, and instead accepted the baptism of the Holy Spirit. He undertook to deny himself all luxuries, to eat no meat, milk or eggs, to travel always in the company of friends in the faith, and to never allow fear of death to draw him from his chosen obligations. The candidate then prostrated [13] himself in veneration [14] before the officiating Perfect. Placing the Gospel of John on the candidate's head, the Perfect laid his hand upon the book and, in company with other Perfects present, called upon God to bring down upon the new Perfect the blessings of the Holy Spirit (The Albigensian Crusade by Jonathan Sumption).

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         After the meeting, Martin and his household all knelt and then prostrated themselves before the Perfects. The Perfects bade them rise, gave each their blessing, and then retired from the room, accompanied by Martin.
         The observers had been much impressed by the service and obvious sincerity and piety of the two Perfects. So had the rest of the congregation, the last of whom were now slowly filing out of the room.
         It was Hamish who finally spoke up. "Well, I may respect their beliefs, but I tell ye all, this abstaining from the flesh is not my idea of an afterlife!"
         Malcolm, Guillaume and the others laughed, and then they all retired to their respective rooms for the evening.

XIX - THE HOUR OF DARKNESS
         Shortly after midnight, Heloise awoke with a scream. Within seconds, Malcolm rushed into her room that she shared with Esme, and Guillaume followed fast on his heels.
         "What's the matter, dear?" Malcolm asked Heloise anxiously.
         "I had a horrible dream!" she replied, her face still registering her evident terror. "I dreamed that, as we lay here in our beds, we were surrounded by vile-looking men--men who looked more like devils than humans. They came upon us as we slept, with hatred and venom in their eyes. They slashed at us with their weapons and claws--killing us one by one. Oh, Malcolm, it was a horrible nightmare!"
         "It's all right, my dear," said Malcolm. "It was just a bad dream. We've seen and heard a lot these last few days. Try and rest now."
         "I fear that it may be more than just a bad dream," said Esme with a firmness and authority in her voice. "It is a warning! I, too, in a dreadful vision, have seen the camp of the saints surrounded by devils with hideous and grotesque features. In this vision, also, we were caught sleeping and unawares, and were led like lambs to the slaughter. No, I fear that those who hate us are even now plotting our destruction."
         "What's all the fuss?" announced Hamish, as he came marching into the room. "Who was it I heard a screamin'?"
         "It was Heloise," said Guillaume, who was kneeling by Esme's bedside. "She had a bad dream, and Esme here thinks it's an omen."
         "An omen, by God!" said Dougal, who had followed his brother in. Guy was up, too, and at this point was the last one to enter the room.
         "Yes, an omen," said Esme, a paleness coming across her face that made her dark features show yet more starkly in the dimly-lit room. "I sense danger in this place. My father often said that I had a sixth sense, to anticipate things before they happened, and now I feel a dying chill in the air. I fear that death and destruction lie before us; that we are to be caught as birds in the fowler's net."
         "Ah! The words of a mad diviner who canna' sleep. You women! I be a goin' back to bed," said Hamish with a loud yawn.
         "No, brother! I think this is serious," said Malcolm. "We already know that someone who could very well be Bernard, Odo's henchman, has been staying at this very place, and I fear that if it indeed was him, then his failure to return to this keep augurs [15] that our current lodging is discovered, and the sure chance that our enemies may soon be upon us."
         Guy, who had been leaning against the window, looked out into the darkness. The moon, though not full, cast a pale blue light on the landscape. Martin's small castle overlooked the village, where all seemed quiet. To the east, and scarcely visible, a road headed off into the mountains.
         Guy's eyes continued traveling up the road, until, for a moment, he thought he saw a light in the distance. He strained his eyes but the light had disappeared. A few moments later it reappeared, and then disappeared again.
         "Malcolm! Guillaume! Look here!" said Guy.
         The two men walked over to the window.
         "There, in the distance. See that light? Look, there it is! Now it's gone again. It seems to be moving. But why does it disappear and then appear again?"
         "Indeed, the light is traveling," said Guillaume. "It's a torch; it's disappearing behind rocks or trees or other obstructions, and then appearing again as it comes out from behind them. There are people on that road--and what is more, they seem to be heading our way."
         Now all seven people crowded around the window and peered out.
         "I wonder who it is, traveling by night like this," said Malcolm.
         "Well, with the warnings we just heard, I would take it that we should assume the worst," stated Guillaume. "To arms, men! If they are hostile, well, we shall teach them a lesson! Surprise will be on our side instead of theirs."
         "Then we must wake and inform Martin and his family!"
         "I will take care of that," said Guillaume, disappearing out of the door. "The rest of you, get ready. We are in a fortified position, so I would say it is best to prepare to make our stand here, rather than run. On open ground we will have a distinctive disadvantage."
         The men hastily went to put on their armor and weapons. Guy, who had no armor, armed himself with the sword that Hamish had given him earlier. "God help me use this thing," he uttered hopefully.
         "He'll have to!" said Hamish, overhearing the lamentable prayer. "Cause I dinna' ha'e time to teach ya'."
         Hamish and Dougal strung their bows, which they had carried along, and carefully checked their supply of arrows. Then they hurried off to take up their positions at the top of the main tower that overlooked and guarded the gate.
         Meanwhile, Guillaume had awoken Martin and told him the news.
         "I will not resort to arms," said Martin. "I have been a man of peace all my life. But I will not prevent you from defending yourselves either. My family and I, along with our servants, will repair to the cellars and there barricade ourselves in. I pray that the Lord smiles on you in your enterprise today, and I hope that you understand why I cannot allow any of my household to join you in this."
         "I appreciate your frankness," said Guillaume, "and your steadfastness to your principles. Please do consider diligently the protection of your family, for I fear that you and they may also be in grave peril. If we have brought harm upon you this day, I apologize. Please fight for us with your prayers."
         Guillaume then went back and made sure the two women were barricaded into the room, along with Guy, who they had decided should stay back with them and defend them at the end, if need be.
         Guillaume and Malcolm made their way to the castle walls, where they concealed themselves and awaited whoever was carrying that light in the distance and whatever they would bring them.
         Soon, the sounds of horses could be clearly heard, and the accompanying rattle of men-at-arms who sat upon them. As they drew nearer, Malcolm and Guillaume's eyes were drawn to a figure in the second row, immediately following the torch-bearer. The unmistakable rotund figure of Odo was clear to both of them.
         "By God, it's Odo!" whispered Guillaume, "And he's even carrying a sword!"
         For those not familiar with this period in history, it was not uncommon for bishops to be both priests and warriors. Many of the contingents of crusading armies were led by warrior bishops. A bishop not only ruled in the spiritual, but also in the temporal realm of his estate, and therefore had to be prepared to defend it and fight for it as any feudal lord.
         Although Odo had not taken up arms for many years, he could not resist coming along with Theobald and his soldiers on this mission to exact his revenge upon his sworn enemies. It was an opportunity which he was not wont to miss.
         Bernard and three other guards who had accompanied Odo from Toulouse were also among the party.
         As they neared the walls, the horsemen drew up in a long column in front of the gates.
         "I count twenty-one in all," Malcolm whispered to his confrere [16].
         Guillaume nodded. "Odds are more than five to one. Thank God we have surprise on our side."
         Two of the horsemen had dismounted and were making their silent, unsuspecting way, to the doors of the castle.
         Guillaume looked over and could see the figures of Hamish and Dougal in the high tower. He raised his hand and brought it down quickly. In the next instant, two arrows flew through the air, striking the two soldiers. One fell silently, but the other screamed as the arrow penetrated his body.
         In the resulting confusion, and before Theobald and Odo could gain control of their men, six more arrows had flown, and six more men lay dead or wounded on the ground.
         "Retreat!" shouted Odo, as he turned his horse around and galloped away from the castle walls.
         Theobald and the other soldiers wheeled their horses around and headed for cover.
         Guillaume and Malcolm peered into the darkness and waited.
         A crossbow bolt came whizzing through the air not far from where they were hidden, and struck the castle timber with a loud thud. It was followed by several more, all whizzing harmlessly overhead, or hitting the castle wall and falling to the ground.
         "They must have someone moving ahead, and they're trying to keep us down," said Guillaume to Malcolm.
         Malcolm nodded. Looking up at the high tower, they saw Hamish gesturing to the right. Peering out, they could see five armed figures moving in that direction. The two dropped to the ground and scurried over to that part of the wall, climbing up the ladder and onto the parapet [17] on that side of the keep.
         No sooner had they reached the wall when they heard the sound of a grappling hook flying through the air. With a clang, it secured itself between the battlements, not far from where Guillaume and Malcolm now lay in wait.
         Quickly they scurried over and took up positions in the shadows on either side of the gap where the four-barbed hook lay. Soon they could hear the grunt of soldiers scaling the wall.
         They waited until the first man had actually reached the top and was about to climb over. Then Malcolm rose and swung his sword, striking the man at the neck. Although it didn't cut through the chain mail, the force knocked the man clear off the building. He went flying through the air and crashed headlong at the bottom of the wall. At that same instant, Guillaume swung down his sword on the rope, cutting it in two, and the other two men who had been scaling the wall behind the first fell with a loud crash.
         Peering cautiously over, they saw two of the assailants lying motionless. The third was crawling away, dragging one leg behind him, which appeared to have been broken in the fall.
         Two other figures could be seen scurrying to take refuge in the direction from which they had come.
         Soon a voice broke the relative silence that followed this thwarted attack. Guillaume recognized it as Theobald's.
         "Martin of Caussade, why do you fight against us? Bring out your guests, for our quarrel is with them alone. Let us be done with this bloodshed!"
         "It is not Martin of Caussade who fights against you, for he and his family have naught to do with you."
         "Then it is you, Lord Guillaume, son of Godfrey, by the unmistakable sound of your voice, who has committed this act of outlawry against these noble guardsmen!" shouted Odo.
         "We are merely defending ourselves, Lord Bishop! It is you who are the aggressors."
         "Give yourselves up!" shouted Theobald.
         "Never!" shouted Guillaume.
         "Then prepare to die!" thundered Theobald.
         Five or six more crossbow bolts whizzed through the air, once again harmlessly hitting the wood and masonry of the fortifications.
         Guillaume and Malcolm ducked for cover, and whispered together.
         "I'm afraid if this lasts till daybreak that they're going to send for reinforcements! We have to find a way to end this fight quickly," said Guillaume.
         "How?" said Malcolm.
         "We must devise a ruse," said Guillaume, "a sort of Trojan horse in reverse. The next time an arrow comes through the air, scream as though you'd been struck. Meanwhile, I'll slip up into the high tower, and explain to Hamish and Dougal what we're doing. By my calculations, there are eleven men dead or wounded among them. That leaves only ten. I think we're in a position to let them scale the walls and think that they have won."
         Guillaume disappeared, and a few minutes later, another volley of crossbow bolts sung through the air. As they passed overhead, Malcolm let out a chilling scream. Shouts of satisfaction could be heard from the attackers' camp.
         A few minutes later, Guillaume returned to Malcolm's side. "What we shall do," said Guillaume, "is let them get over the wall and open the gates. You can be sure that they will all rush inside. Once in, we have but to shut and guard the door, and they will be trapped."
         "Great," said Malcolm a little sarcastically. "We let ten armed men into our castle, and four of us have them trapped!"
         "Have I failed you so far in my military tactics?" grinned Guillaume.
         "You've damn near killed us a hundred times," retorted Malcolm.
         "Well, just pray this one's going to be damn near also, and not fatal. We don't have a choice. We've got to get them all in here before they send off for help, which, if they don't get a token of victory soon, you can be sure they will do."
         Malcolm nodded his head.
         The two of them once again jumped down from the parapet and concealed themselves in one of the stables. Soon, another grappling hook could be heard being thrown over another part of the wall. Minutes later, the cautious leader of the scaling party climbed over the wall and motioned to his fellows. Soon, four of them were on the parapet, swords drawn, cautiously looking this way and that. They headed down the stairs towards the gate. One soldier lifted the heavy beam that secured the door, and threw it to one side, then pushed the door open.
         Theobald was first through the gates, and motioned to his men to go this way and that, as though to search out whatever defenders remained.
         "Watch out!" he warned his men. "They're going to be like cornered animals now. We know at least one of them is wounded."
         A few minutes later, Odo came huffing and puffing through the door, surrounded by Bernard and the other guards. "Well?" he said, almost out of breath.
         "They are hiding!" sneered Theobald. "But we'll sniff them out!"
         Two volleys of arrows suddenly followed in quick succession. The four arrows found their mark; two of Odo's guards lay dead, and a third, with an arrow through his leg, fell screaming to the ground. The fourth arrow struck one of Theobald's guards in the back, and he also collapsed.
         "There! Up in the tower!" shouted Theobald. Quickly, he took off up the steps, followed by the remainder of his men, who had come running back into the center of the courtyard.
         Odo, his sword drawn, snapped at Bernard, "Don't leave me! I need you here to protect me. This lot," he sneered, motioning to the dead at his feet, "were a bunch of failures!"
         Slowly, Bernard and Odo backed off towards one of the walls. Malcolm and Guillaume sprinted from their hiding place towards the gate.
         "There they are!" shouted Odo. "Get them!"
         Bernard, wondering if perhaps for the moment caution would be the better part of valor, hesitated. By then, Malcolm and Guillaume had reached the gate. Much to the surprise of Odo and Bernard, they didn't dash through it, but rather pushed the gate closed and bolted it. Then they turned, swords in hand, to meet their attackers.
         Meanwhile, Theobald and his men had come to regret running up the tower steps, where at the top, they had met the two grinning Scottish giants with broad claymores in their hands.
         "It's nice of ya' to pay us a visit!" said Hamish. "Dinna ya' think so, brother?"
         "Aye, the manners these Frenchmen have," said Dougal.
         Theobald stopped in his tracks, holding his sword out in front of him.
         "Well, do ya' think he wants to fight, brother?"
         "I bet he does! But of course with that wee thing he has in his hand, he can't do a lot better than pick our teeth!"
         "I'll show you how to pick your teeth!" said Theobald. "Get them!" he shouted to his men.
         Two of his men ran headlong, swords swinging, at the two Scotsmen. Hamish and Dougal met them at the top of the stairs. Hamish swung his sword and shouted to Dougal, "Get back, will ya'? There's only room for one of us to fight on these things!"
         "Ah, stop being a hog, brother!" said Dougal. "Gimme a bit of the fun too!"
         Hamish lifted his sword and swung with such force that it knocked the sword out of the hands of the first attacker, who then turned and bolted down the stairs. Theobald, seeing the situation was not quite as he had hoped, led the rest of his men in a hasty retreat down and back into the courtyard, closely pressed by Dougal and Hamish, who came charging down after them.
         The odds were much better now, as there were only six attackers left, and four defenders, who had, as yet, remained unharmed.
         Theobald was a skilled fighter, and nimble on his feet. Realizing that he couldn't fight the two big Scotsmen blow for blow, he decided to go for quick thrusts and quicker withdrawals.
         "Come here, ya' little monkey!" said Hamish, as he swung his great sword through the air. "Come, fight like a man and die like a dog!"
         "Nay, I will fight and do what I do best: Attack! Thrust! Make back!" replied Theobald tauntingly.
         Now Hamish and Dougal were in the middle of the courtyard, back to back, surrounded by Theobald and his three men.
         Bernard, meanwhile, had rushed over to attack Guillaume, while Odo moved cautiously towards Malcolm.
         "Go help the bishop!" Theobald ordered one of his men. "The three of us will take care of these two giants."
         One of the soldiers rushed over and started attacking Malcolm. Odo, meanwhile, encouraged by this sudden reinforcement, joined in the fight.
         It was soon evident that Odo was no mean swordsman. Although a natural coward, he was gifted in the art of swordplay. Indeed, he had trained along with his brothers in the martial arts for many years before taking on the cloth. Even though there existed a prohibition on a cleric shedding blood, so that it was not acceptable for a bishop to carry a sword into battle, but rather a mace, Odo obviously flouted [18] this rule.
         And so Malcolm was now also one on two, as the guardsman and Odo deftly swung their swords at him.
         It was at this moment that Guy appeared in the courtyard. Guy and the two girls had heard the clashing of swords. Malcolm's terrible scream earlier had them all worried that he had been wounded, and Guy had insisted on going to his rescue. After some consultation with the women, it was agreed that he should go and that they should barricade themselves in again once he had left.
         Guy, sword in hand, swung over behind Malcolm. "You look outnumbered there, friend!" he said. "Can I lend you a hand?"
         "Get back, Guy!" shouted Malcolm. "We'll take care of these!"
         Meanwhile, Odo, seeing a chance for easier victory, broke off the fight with Malcolm and went after Guy. Guy, being a novice with the sword, soon found himself hard pressed by the rotund cleric.
         Malcolm, seeing the danger, quickly endeavored to finish off his final assailant, but the man was a better swordsman than most, and it took Malcolm quite some time to subdue, and finally slay him.
         Meanwhile, Guillaume and Bernard were also locked in deadly combat, the clashing of their swords adding to the din around them.
         Malcolm rushed to Guy's side, as he saw the fight going sorely against him, but just as he got there, Guy's sword went flying from his hand, and with a gleeful snarl, Odo plunged his sword into the defenseless man's stomach.
         A look of horror and dismay crossed Guy's face as he collapsed and fell over. In that second, Malcolm caught up with the Bishop, and raising his sword high above his head, swung it down with all his might, cleaving Odo's skull in two, and the bulky figure collapsed in a heap on the ground.
         Malcolm rushed over to Guy and cradled his head in his arms. "Dear Guy!" he cried. "Dear, foolish Guy! Oh, why did you do this? You are no swordsman! Oh, why?"
         "Malcolm, don't cry and wail for me!" Guy whispered hoarsely. "I am alright. I am going Home, Malcolm. I am going Home to be with Jesus. Look after Heloise. She is just a girl, you know ..."
         With those words, Guy's head slumped sideways and his body went limp.
         Guillaume had seen what happened, and was for a moment distracted from his fight with Bernard. The big fellow swung and caught Guillaume on the shoulder--not a serious wound, but one to cause momentary loss of concentration.
         Malcolm quickly lay Guy's head down, picked up his sword again, and rushed to Guillaume's assistance. Still, before he got within striking distance, Guillaume already had Bernard at a disadvantage and, before Bernard could call quarter [19], Guillaume thrust him through with his sword.
         In the meantime, Dougal and Hamish had finished off three of their opponents, and only Theobald remained.
         "Quarter!" he cried. "Quarter!"
         Hamish and Dougal looked over at Guillaume.
         "He would have given us no quarter," said Guillaume. "He deserves none from us."
         "No!" Malcolm cried, tearfully carrying Guy's limp body in his arms. "We have seen enough killing. Tie him up."
         "No," said Guillaume. "He has killed and caused to be killed. He deserves to die."
         "No," repeated Malcolm firmly. "He has asked for quarter. We will give it to him. Tie him up, brothers. We will decide his fate later."
         Guillaume rushed back up to the room where the girls were waiting, closely followed by Malcolm, still clutching his dead friend's silent form. As soon as he reached the barricaded door, Guillaume pounded on it, loudly proclaiming, "Let us in! It is us!"
         With tears of relief, Heloise and Esme took down the barricade and opened the door.
         "You've been hurt!" exclaimed Esme at once, at the sight of blood on Guillaume's arm.
         "It's not much," said Guillaume. "It will heal."
         "Come, let me treat it," said Esme, leading him away.
         "Where are the others?" Heloise asked, a note of concern rising in her voice. "I heard Malcolm cry so terribly."
         "It was only a ruse," Guillaume answered quietly.
         At that instant, Malcolm appeared in the doorway, his face stained with a horrific mixture of blood and tears, and the lifeless form of Guy hanging limp in his arms.
         Heloise stood there in disbelief, her hands over her mouth. "Oh no!" she cried. "Not Guy! Not dear, gentle Guy! Oh, dear God! Not Guy!"
         Malcolm didn't say a word, but put Guy down on one of the beds in the room, next to which Heloise instantly fell to her knees in uncontrollable sorrow. Malcolm knelt beside her, and held her tight. Suppressing his own sorrow for the moment, with breaking voice he tried to speak words of comfort to her.
         "'Take care of Heloise,' was the last thing he had said to me. 'Don't cry and wail for me,' he said. 'I'm going Home to be with Jesus.' And then he was gone. He's gone Home to Jesus. He's gone Home, Heloise.--No more pain, no sorrow. He's Home."
         Heloise, however, continued her sobbing, as she clung tightly to Malcolm. The two remained in this position for a long, long time.
* * *
         The sun had begun to rise in the early morning sky, and it was not long before the carnage of the night became evident. After some consultation, it was decided that they would tie Theobald to his horse, his feet fastened underneath so that he couldn't get off, and send the horse on its unguided way as they continued to make good their escape.
         Before sending the sorry knight off, Guillaume told him that Martin and his family had in no way been involved in the incident of that night, and that no retribution should come to them. He made Theobald swear on his knightly honor that this would indeed be the case.
         After Theobald left, Guillaume, his arm bandaged now, proceeded to the cellars to inform Martin and his family that the coast was now clear.
         "It is a fearful sight," said Guillaume. "There are many dead bodies out there, including that of my dear friend, Guy, up in the room where we made our abode."
         "We will take care of them," said Martin, "and we will make sure that your friend is buried well."
         "Thank you," said Guillaume. "I am sure you must realize that these parts are no longer safe for us, and that it is expedient that we depart as early as possible."
         "Yes, I understand," answered Martin. "But before you go, let me prepare you a meal and bid you Godspeed."
         "Thank you," said Guillaume.
* * *
         Later that morning, when they had packed and eaten, the party, now of six, left sorrowfully from the small keep of Caussade. Martin had provided them with maps and details of how to travel through the mountains, avoiding larger towns where there was greater chance of both detection and danger.
         The rest of the journey, though far from uneventful, is not the subject of this book, except to say that they made it to Ghent in the duchy of Flanders, and thence took ship to Scotland, landing in the port of Berwick.
         After many more days of traveling, they finally arrived at the ancestral lands of the MacAlpin clan. There they were greeted by Kenneth, Laird MacAlpin. A festive double-wedding was not long thereafter celebrated for Malcolm and Heloise, and Guillaume and Esme--the nobleman with the gypsy girl, and the Scotsman with the innkeeper's daughter.
         The feasting went on for several days, and at the height of the celebration, all stood to pay honor to Guy--a dear friend and martyr to the cause, who became forever after a sort of patron saint to the MacAlpins.

EPILOGUE [20]
         This story still requires that some loose ends be tied up. Giles managed to survive for many more years. It was, finally, at the siege of Moissac, that he was trapped within the city as it was taken. Standing high upon one of the remaining tall buildings overlooking the city square, he shouted out a prophecy to the crusaders below:
         "You are killing us now. You are slaughtering the innocents. But we will come back. Yea, at the time of the End we shall come back! For you kill our bodies, but you cannot kill our spirits, and we will still be here when you are rotting in Hell for your crimes. We will come back at the time of the End, and we shall lead God's people to victory over all their oppressors."
         The crusader commander dispatched a troop of men to rush to the top of the building to silence this prophet, whose very words and voice did cause all who heard them to tremble. But by the time they had reached the roof, he was gone and nowhere to be found. Only his cloak lay in a pile. There had been no way of escape, except down the same flight of stairs by which the soldiers had come. Yet he was gone--disappeared! Some said he was a spirit. Some said he was a man, whom God caused to be lifted up into Heaven that same day. Others say he is still there, to this day, waiting to return in the time of the End.
         Simon de Montfort, that scourge of the Languedoc, died while besieging one of the towns that had held out against him. Standing at the battlefront he was mortally wounded by a piece of rubble fired by a trebuchet [21] from within the town. Legend has it that that war machine had been manned by women.
         Count Raymond, at the time of his death, had switched sides again and was fighting against the Crusaders. He died an excommunicated man. Even though his son pled for many years that Raymond's body should be allowed to be buried on holy ground, all his requests were refused.
         In turn his son, Raymond VII, inherited the county of Toulouse, but soon sued for peace. As part of the settlement, his daughter and only heir was married to the son of the king, and upon their deaths, without issue, the great independent county of Toulouse reverted to the royal demesne [22].
         Robert of Avignon died in obscurity during the terrible siege of his native city by the armies of Louis VIII in 1226.
         Martin of Caussade and his family were all killed in the months that followed Malcolm and his party's departure. Theobald, in spite of his promise not to seek vengeance on them, had arranged the massacre. But divine justice and judgment caught up with Theobald. A few years later when a careless attendant spilt scalding water on his hand, he was surprised to notice that he felt only a slight pain. Soon he noted that he was losing more feeling in his limbs. This was soon followed by the telltale lesions and skin discoloration peculiar to leprosy. Shunned, blinded by the disease, his face deformed and hideous to look at, Theobald spent the remainder of his short days confined to a tiny room at the top of a tower in his castle, despised by his family and retainers. He died at the age of thirty-five, looking like a man of eighty.
         The Cathars were exterminated in bloody battles and purges. Where armies failed to stamp out the light, the Holy Inquisition took up the torch. Soon all traces of Catharism and its adherents had been purged completely from Southern France.
         But in a little corner of Scotland, it is still told that in the home of the MacAlpins, they practiced a religion of love and truth, of hospitality and kindness. And on the moors, where once the great house stood, it is said that on quiet nights, if one stops to listen, the sound of laughter and merriment, of happy voices raised in song, can be heard.
         The great oath that the brothers had sworn that somber day when they had all departed from MacAlpin Hall, their ancestral home, had been fulfilled. For they had sworn on the beloved memory of their father that they would strive with all that was in them to regain what was lost from them. And, having regained it, that they would never let their land be taken again, or even divided, but that they would gather together as one family, to sing and dance and fill the house with a continual joy where once it had been filled with mourning and desolation.
         And if one wanders in the graveyard adjacent to the village kirk [23] and takes time to browse the tombstones, instead of the engraved cross that one might expect, there is often found a heart or a dove in flight to the heavens. French names are intermingled with Gaelic. In the center of the field, a cylindrical pillar rises above the other stones. The elements have taken their toll over the centuries and the words that were carved on it are now difficult to decipher. They become clear only after careful study:

         "I, Malcolm MacAlpin, do lay this monument in my eightieth year amongst the headstones that mark the earthly resting place of my wife, my brothers, my friends, and, in times to come perhaps even my children and grandchildren. These are but tiny monuments to lives great and small, yet each one loved. Here I shall also be laid to rest, in my time, with these companions. My body shall await with theirs that wonderful day, when it shall be raised to perfection at the coming of our great Sovereign Jesus Christ, in Whose grace these all have lived and died. Meanwhile my spirit will rejoice with theirs in eternal bliss, for these who lie here are now passed on to greater joys. Though none were perfect here, over There where all is perfect, they who have run the race and obtained the crown can rightly be called the Perfect Ones."

* THE END *

Definitions*:
         1 portcullis: a grating of iron or wooden bars or slats, suspended in the gateway of a fortified place and lowered to block passage
         2 rectitude: honesty, moral uprightness
         3 modicum: a small amount
         4 roan: having a chestnut or reddish brown coat, sprinkled with white or gray
         5 gelding: a castrated male horse
         6 jocular: in a joking manner
         7 equestrian: of or relating to horseback riding
         8 riled: annoyed
         9 gamely: determined
         10 astute: showing discernment or shrewdness
         11 blood feud: a bitter quarrel or state of emnity between two clans or families
         12 pike: a long spear formerly used by infantry
         13 prostrate: to kneel, bow, or lie down in submission and humility
         14 veneration: profound respect or reverence
         15 augur: to be a sign or omen
         16 confrere: colleague
         17 parapet: a protective wall or platform of a fortification, often built on ramparts, or wide mounds of earth
         18 flout: to show contempt for, to scorn
         19 quarter: mercy (call quarter: to ask for mercy)
         20 epilogue: A concluding section at the end of a literary work, often dealing with the future of its characters; an afterword
         21 trebuchet: a medieval catapult for hurling heavy stones
         22 demesne: realm, territory, domain
         23 kirk: (Scottish) church

*These words are only defined generally and according to their use in this story.

[End]


Copyright (c) 1998 by Aurora Productions