The troubadour's song

by Patricia Werner

  Jean's back was to the men entering the clearing, and for a moment he held Allesandra's eyes, conveying a warning to her. Her heart sank as she saw that Gaucelm rode with Enselm and a squire. There was nowhere to hide. And when the riders saw them, Gaucelm raised a hand for the others to halt.

  Setting eyes on him after their night of passion caused her

  heart to crash against her chest and her palms to sweat. Yet her face must give no hint of either the seduction of which she had been a part or the ceremony she had just witnessed. But there was a flicker of annoyance on Gaucelm's face, which darkened into a cloud of displeasure as he walked his mount toward her. She stood up, as Jean lowered his flute and turned to bow to Gaucelm.

  "My lord Deluc," said Jean quickly. "You have surprised us. My lady Allesandra and I had sought this place to compose our tenson for this afternoon's competition. As you can imagine, it was important for us to get away from that sneaky Lucius who would foil us by satirizing our song if he could."

  "Is that so?" asked Gaucelm, as his mount snorted and heaved its sides after the short run across the meadow. "I find it curious that you would roam so far."

  His eyes glanced suspiciously about the trees and clearing, and Allesandra felt her cheeks warm. He seemed to insinuate that he'd caught them at activities other than what they professed. His look of accusation inflamed her. Surely he could not believe that she would rise from his bed only to run off with another man the very next morning. She looked for words that would allay his suspicions without giving anything away. Jean was quicker with a defense.

  "It was necessary, my lord. In these competitions, one cannot risk a spy. It is the greatest embarrassment to perform one's song only to hear the lines twisted and mocked by a clown who comes afterward. But perhaps my lord would like to hear what we've accomplished so far."

  Gaucelm's eyes only glanced at Jean but bored into Allesandra. He paused, taking his time to assess the situation. The lines of concentration creased in his cheek and at the corners of his eyes as he made up his mind. Allesandra read the displeasure still in his eyes.

  "I think not. Such hard work deserves a better audience for its showing. We are on the trail of a deer. I would caution you to

  take better cover. For had we not come upon you thus, one of our arrows might have caused you great harm."

  "We will take your advice now that we know hunters are about. If my lady would be willing to retire now that the greatest work on the tenson is done . . . ?"

  "I would be so inclined," she finally said.

  She and Gaucelm exchanged a long look, and then Gaucelm lifted his chin and spoke to his companions, who had stopped a little way off.

  "Come, let us not waste the day." And he trotted off with the other two.

  Allesandra trembled and sat down again on the log. "That was a narrow escape."

  Jean glanced back in the direction of the house they had just left.

  "Evidently their suspicions were not aroused, for they did not seem interested in any kind of search, so intent were they upon their game."

  She dared not mention just what suspicions she had read in Gaucelm's eyes, but gathered her strength again.

  "Come," she said. "We must make our way back to the castle in ease, as if we have been doing nothing here but playing music. It is fortunate we did not have to prove our point by a demonstration."

  Jean smiled. "Perhaps my cleverness would have indeed been put to the test. But then, they are not familiar with our songs and would not have recognized it had I sung an old one."

  "Do not underestimate our overlord," she cautioned. "He is more knowledgeable of our ways than you would suspect. He has not been idle since he took over the great chamber in the castle where all my writings are kept. He is lettered and has made a great study of the Cathar religion and the songs of the troubadours."

  Jean's thoughts turned pensive. "In that case I wonder how much he understands the symbolism in the songs. Does he take the literal meaning or the mystical one?"

  "It is hard to say. For the moment, I believe he thinks that

  troubadours praise and adore only a fleshly lady. But he did warn me last night that the praise and ecstasy we sing of might suggest heresy."

  " 'My verse must confuse fools who cannot understand it in two ways'," Jean paraphrased the troubadour Alegret.

  "Let us hope," said Allesandra, "that Gaucelm Deluc is such a fool."

  Ten

  A squall had blown up, and with the howling wind and sudden rain, the bishop's coach and entourage of horsemen, dressed for riding in long black cloaks, made their way over the crest of the hill and wound along the road up to the castle.

  "Who goes there?" shouted the guards at the gatehouse from their portal.

  "The bishop of Toulouse" came the answering cry. "With legates from the apostolic see." The coach was allowed entrance and clattered over the drawbridge and into the courtyard.

  The word was carried to Gaucelm, who had retired to his chamber. Annoyance filled him when Enselm roused him.

  "So," he said, throwing aside bed curtains to put on a tunic. "It has come so soon. And in inclement weather, no less."

  By the time he was dressed and in the hall to greet his midnight visitors, he had assumed a respectful demeanor. But he did not go any farther in showing reverence to the bishop and his party than he must.

  Outside, the storm howled, and the lights that had been lit for the guests flickered from the drafts coming in through shuttered windows.

  "Reverend Bishop," Gaucelm said. "I did not expect a visit from you this night."

  "No doubt," said Bishop Fulk. He had taken a seat in a high-backed chair by the fire, which was being stoked. His companions still wore their traveling cloaks, hoods thrown back to drip on the rushes.

  "My holy brothers have just joined me from Rome with instructions to make a list of heretics in this vicinity. We traced some names to this demesne. Perhaps now that you have been in residence here you can help us."

  Gaucelm kept his features neutral. "I see. And have you this list now?"

  The bishop waved a hand. "In the morning there will be time. We know the whereabouts of those we seek to question. They will not try to run, for that would only prove their guilt."

  "Very well. Then may I have the steward show you to chambers? They may be Spartan, for we are ill prepared to host so noble and holy a party as yourselves. Had you sent word ahead ..."

  The smaller of the two legates with Bishop Fulk now spoke in a thick, nasal tone. "Christ did not fuss over simple accommodations. Neither shall we."

  Gaucelm did not have a taste for the self-righteous, but he only nodded and turned to issue orders to a servant to awaken the steward and find rooms for the guests. Wine was served, and because of the late hour the bishop and the two legates followed ithe sleepy steward, Julian, to quarters.

  Gaucelm was curious indeed as to who it was they sought to interrogate, but he would not find out this night. He was tempted to seek out Allesandra and warn her. But he tried to tell himself that was not necessary. She had assured him she was not a heretic. As to her friends, they would have to look out for themselves.

  The news was brought to Allesandra next morning as she, Isabella, and Marcia were brushing their hair and dressing for the day. Julian had not wanted to wake them in the middle of the night, he explained.

  Allesandra sent Julian with word for Jean de Batute and Lu-

  cius. "Tell them I will meet them in the musician's gallery as soon as I can."

  Then she turned to gather her thoughts as she opened the shutters and looked out upon the damp courtyard. Marcia joined her at the window, wringing her hands.

  "Dire news, my lady. Do you think the others got away in time yesterday?"

  "Let us hope so. But it bodes ill that they have come here. Sir Gaucelm did warn me. I just did not think it would be so soon." She pondered his words of yesterday, and felt a tremor.

  But she stiffened her spine and took upon he
rself that mantle of confidence and calm that she had always worn as chatelaine. Just because she did not possess the demesne anymore was no reason to show fear. Her own people still looked to her for guidance.

  She met Jean and Lucius in the musician's gallery where they gathered to speak in hushed tones behind a screen. She noticed that Lucius was unusually silent, and his face was pale.

  "There is a way to escape this," she said. "I can send you through the tunnel to the woods ..."

  "No," said Lucius, turning back from the small window that looked down over the stables where he had been watching grooms come and go. "They will know who is in residence here. Did not Sir Gaucelm's own men-at-arms escort us here? They know we will not run, for that would prove our guilt."

  Jean sank onto a bench, looking glum. "Yes, I suppose that is true. We don't know what they want, but we had better be prepared to answer questions. There aren't enough of us to put up a fight."

  "Let us hope that our friends have gotten safely away." She did not say it, but she did not want to stand and watch the parfaits being interrogated. For they would never recant. She forced herself to state the case as she saw it.

  "The court will only mete out extreme punishments to those they know are heretics and who refuse to recant. They will ask

  us to name friends, that is true. I have persuaded Sir Gaucelm that I know no such heretics."

  Lucius stared at her. "That is noble of you, madam. But what will happen to you if it is found out that you lie?"

  Her heart trembled with apprehension. "I will take care of myself. You both must act as you think best. I cannot tell you what to do. The Church wants converts. It is not in their interest to punish heavily those who have in their eyes simply erred."

  For a long moment she and Lucius exchanged gazes. Then she took his hands and kissed him on both cheeks as a friend. No more was said, for noises below made them step back and watch silently through the screen as the bishop and his entourage entered the hall, followed by Gaucelm and Julian.

  Tables, benches, and chairs were arranged as the bishop, dressed in white tunic and dalmatica of silver and gold threads, indicated with the flick of a long, thin finger what he wished. And then his clerk handed him one of a roll of parchments. He sat down in the high-backed arm chair and Gaucelm's men-at-arms slipped into the hall, staying near the edges of the room. More of the household had drifted into the hall to see what was going to happen, but they hovered at the back of the hall.

  When all was arranged to his liking, the bishop spoke. His eyes glinted as he cast them about the room, and when his gaze passed over the screen, Allesandra felt a chill crawl down her spine.

  "I am here on the authority of the Apostolic See to question those here about a number of persons suspected of heresy, living or dead. My authority comes from His Holiness in Rome as is delivered here in these documents, brought to me by these legates."

  "And who on this list is present that you wish to see, my lord Bishop?" asked Gaucelm.

  Bishop Fulk narrowed eyes and lifted chin so that his mitre tilted backward slightly. "The Catholic leaders in Muret have provided me with the first name on the list. Baron Georges Valtin."

  From where she watched in the musician's gallery, Allesan-dra's hand flew to her chest and she drew in a breath. Her late husband. She staggered forward a step and had to brace herself against the screen. Jean's hand at her elbow steadied her.

  Below in the hall, Gaucelm spoke calmly. "The Baron Valtin is deceased, my lord."

  The mitre rocked forward and the chin lowered once. "So I understand. However, if he is proven to have been a heretic, then his lands are forfeit to the church." A thin smile followed.

  A murmur traveled the length of the hall.

  A muscle twitched in Gaucelm's cheek. Bishop Fulk must know very well that the lands he referred to now lay in Gaucelm's own hands, hard won by his campaign with Simon de Montfort. However, now was not the time to point that out.

  "Have you proof?" he queried.

  The bishop waved a sheaf of statements. "These were taken in Muret, where this court began. Many we questioned were reluctant at first to name heretics."

  He glanced benevolently at the gathering of household members cowering on benches and standing at the back of the hall. His voice began to drone in patronizing kindness as he explained the generous view the Church was willing to take with those who had strayed, through no fault of their own.

  "It is best to define what heresy is. In case there has been any misunderstanding through ignorance rather than evil, let me say that only one reading of the Holy Scriptures can be true. The Mother Church interprets the scriptures for the lesser educated in order to preserve and protect the fabric of Christian society. Therefore any deviation from orthodoxy is heresy." His voice boomed on the last word and then softened again. "But only if pertinaciously defended."

  He paused to smile benevolently at the gathering. "Legally, one must first be instructed that his beliefs are not orthodox. Only after this, if one insists on defending them, may he be branded a heretic. Otherwise those beliefs are simply an error."

  Behind Allesandra, Jean muttered an epithet. With a gesture she cautioned him to silence.

  "For those who see their errors and recant," the bishop continued in a singsong voice, "a light penance is imposed. Especially if the saved one gives us names of others who have equally been led astray."

  Allesandra's heart thudded in her chest. Jean whispered thoughts similar to her own into her ear. "He wants to trap us into condemning our friends," he hissed. "These elite churchmen care nothing for souls, but rather for those whose property is worth confiscating. They are the devils."

  "And?" inquired Gaucelm below. "So that those present understand the consequences, if one is convicted for following the heresy and continues to do so? What then?"

  Fulk folded his hands in his lap and looked pleased to explain. "Isolation in order to give them time to reconsider. And fines of varying degrees."

  "I see," said Gaucelm. "And in the most extreme cases?"

  "Property is seized, of course."

  The room was quiet, and Allesandra was aware of the tension felt all around. She put a hand on Lucius's shoulder to give it a squeeze. He covered her hand in response, but did not turn from staring through the screen.

  "Lucius," she said, looking up at him. "You must do what you think best."

  Only then did he turn his head and gaze down at her with a worried look. "Do not concern yourself about me," he said softly but firmly.

  Then she swept down the stairs and entered at the back of the hall as Bishop Fulk again raised the issue of her late husband. Allesandra only took a moment to take a breath and steady her nerves. Then she moved forward slowly. Those she approached parted until she stood in the hall. Gaucelm turned from the bishop and strode toward her. His face was hardened, and she could read no expression there.

  "Here is the lady Allesandra Valtin," he said, offering a hand to lead her forward.

  She kept her back straight and walked forward until she was a small distance from the bishop. "You wished to question me, my lord bishop?"

  Bishop Fulk gave her a long, intimidating look and then slowly lifted the parchment to read from it. She knew he was doing it to irritate her. He already knew what lay therein. However, she waited patiently, determined to show no emotion. Finally he dropped the parchment to his lap.

  "Was your husband a Cathar, my lady?"

  She heard small gasps coming from women in knots in the recesses of the room. She willed them all to keep silent.

  "I don't know what you mean, my lord."

  "Oh? One would think a husband discussed his religious beliefs with his wife. Or was your marriage one of no intimacy at all, not even verbal?"

  "My lord," said Gaucelm stepping forward. "I am as interested to ferret out the straying lambs in your flock as you are. But surely you'll allow this lady the dignity—"

  "Silence!" Bishop Fulk's hand went up. "You ha
ve no experience interrogating, and this is not your business."

  Then in slightly softer, more oily tones, "I will forgive the interruption since you have not had these dealings in your household before. But I advise you to keep silent, sir. Otherwise your interjections will look oddly as if you are in defense of those I question. I must ask this lady about her husband's behavior even including intimate details of their marital life, for the very reason that these reveal much about what a man believes."

  Gaucelm's jaws clenched, but he said no more. Allesandra looked back into the bishop's face. "My husband spoke to me of religion," she answered evenly. "That is true. He was no Cathar."

  "Is that so?"

  "It is so."

  She marked Bishop Fulk for what he was and stared into the

  conniving eyes. She saw the malicious glee he took in making her speak of her relations with her husband. But she was not so proud as to risk punishment for mere prudery. She would not let this greedy churchman who sought control to succeed in humiliating her. She knew what he wanted to know and she said what he wanted to hear. A Cathar parfait who had taken the rite of consolamentum pledged a life of chastity. Her anger fortified her.

  "My husband and I had proper conjugal relations."

  "But you did not conceive?"

  "No, I did not. He was away much of the time."

  "Then he did not abstain?"

  "As I said, my lord. When my husband was home, I served him as is a wife's responsibility. We took joy in it. He ate meat as well."

  The listeners gasped and murmured, but still she faced the bishop staunchly. She felt Gaucelm's burning gaze. She shook inwardly, but she was mentally prepared for whatever might be thrown at her.

  "Hmmm." He turned to another line of questioning. "I have testimony by your husband's friends saying what they heard the baron your husband utter as to his faith. Shall I read it to you?"

  "If you like, my lord." She managed a pleasant smile as if whatever he was about to reveal was new to her.