The troubadour's song (41 page)

She nodded. "Julian will have everything ready by the third hour after noon. We will go then."

* * *

Inch by inch Gaucelm led his men up the torturous path of Montsegur until the lengthening evening made progress more difficult. Trees sheltered them partway up the mountain, but the lonely splendor of the mountain fortress above them did indeed appear daunting. Nevertheless, Gaucelm knew with certainty that his men would not leave until the fortress castle was handed over to the Church and the French Crown. Just what he himself would do when that occurred depended on several things.

He tried not to think of Allesandra, tried not to speculate as to whether she would be there when they overcame the fortress. As his men climbed upward, sometimes almost straight up cliffs, he reflected on his last visit to her. Surely she had understood his message. Surely she would not stand by as a French army marched to capture the last hundred or so Cathars who had taken refuge here.

Surely those in the fortress knew of the presence of the soldiers. But so far there was not a single sign of defense. Many Cathar believers were opposed to violence, and perhaps none would fight at all, but rely on the strength of those walls to keep the French soldiers out.

He scrambled downward a little way to speak to his sergeant and balanced where Enselm waited on a boulder to direct the men behind him. Enselm had followed Gaucelm on this as on most other campaigns.

"I'll go ahead," Gaucelm said. "There appears to be a way up below the north tower. One of us needs to get closer and see if there are any faults. If they resist, we're too exposed on the face of the mountain. But the wooded hills come closer on that side. We may mine our way in."

"I'll go if you want," said Enselm.

Gaucelm shook his head. "Take charge here." He glanced upward speculatively. "If anything should happen to me, I trust you to carry out the siege successfully. They'll give in at length. Re-

member the king's order: the survivors must be spared and given a choice between abjuring their faith or death by fire."

Enselm nodded, allowing no expression to cross his steady face. "The soldiers know that. The legate made it clear when we rode south."

Gaucelm reached out his hand, and the two men clasped arms above the wrist. He felt sure that Enselm would carry out his orders.

"If I'm not back by morning, tell the men that I have found a way into the castle to talk to the heretics. If I negotiate a peaceful surrender, it will save us uncomfortable months of siege."

"Godspeed," said Enselm.

Gaucelm turned away, having said everything else privately to Enselm early this morning in order to ensure the success of the mission. Then he clambered up the rocks, leaving the main path where the scrubby trees gave way to gravel and rock.

Once having worked his way around the side of the mountain, he paused beneath a tower. A little farther on he saw a small door, no doubt barred shut now. But from the refuse and dark stains on the rocks, he could tell that this was where some of the garbage was disposed of, to fall down to the woods below to be consumed by wild pigs. Water was evidently thrown after, to wash it from the rocks.

This, then, might be his entrance. If no one opened the door to dispose of any refuse this evening, then he would have to climb the walls. He had ropes and iron hooks, and could attempt that when it was dark enough. At any other fortress, he would face a guard on top who would cut the rope or push him backward to break his skull on the rocks. And it might be so here, he could not tell. The peace-loving Cathars might have knights among them who would deign to fight for their faith.

He scrambled as close to the little door as possible and crouched down to wait. The mountain night was cold, and he pulled the cloak fastened at his throat around him to shield him from the night air and to help obscure him in the darkness.

The creaking of the small door made him jerk out of a doze,

and he readied himself. It opened a little wider, and then water splashed outward from a pail. Gaucelm sprang forward, shoving his foot in the door and grasping the wrist that held the wooden bucket.

His hand was across the girl's mouth before she could scream, and his firm grip held her back against his torso as the bucket flew out the door and rattled down the rocks. He hissed in her ear, speaking in Provencal.

"I'm not going to hurt you. There are French soldiers out there, but if you answer my questions, no harm will come." He waited until she stopped struggling, though her body was tense. "Nod slowly if you understand me."

The girl pushed her head against his hand and nodded. He only relaxed his grip slightly, but spoke into her ear. "I seek a lady by the name of Allesandra Valtin. Do you know her?"

No response. Gaucelm shifted the girl in his grasp, but kept his hand covering her mouth. Even if she attempted to bite him, his thick gloves would prevent injury.

"I am not here to hurt anyone," he said again. "But to help you. I must speak to the lady Allesandra. Can you take me to her?"

The girl must have decided that she'd be better offcooperating. Or perhaps it was the intense determination she saw in his eyes reflected from moonlight coming in the open door. She finally nodded, and he felt her body relax slightly. He removed his hands from her, his face still commanding that she should cooperate.

But first the girl pulled the door to, glancing outside as she did so. Seeing no more threatening soldiers, she pulled it tight and heaved the bar into place. Thus the castle was secured again. She said not a word but led Gaucelm up a twisting set of stairs. She paused on a landing and pushed open a door.

"Wait there," she said.

Gaucelm placed his foot in the door to prevent her locking him into some cell in which he might rot if the girl decided to tell no one. But he found there was no lock, and she scurried off. He lit an oil lamp while he waited. At length the girl returned.

With her was a strapping, ruddy-looking fellow in long tunic. He carried a lighted oil lamp, and he was armed with a sword affixed to a leather-tooled belt. There was something familiar about the blue eyes that lit on Gaucelm curiously, and when the man spoke, he thought he remembered the voice.

"Who are you?"

"Gaucelm Deluc," he answered. "I am seeking the lady Alle-sandra Valtin, who I suspect is here."

The ruddy man lifted reddish-brown brows. "What makes you think she is here?"

"I am a friend."

"I know who you are. You ruled her lands when I was heard before bishops who accused me of heresy."

"Ah, yes, now I remember. Lucius Hersend. So, you took refuge here." Gaucelm cast his eyes about the walls, carved out of rock at this level of the castle.

"I have."

"Then believe me when I say I only mean to help you. I must see Allesandra."

Lucius relented. "She will see you. She only sent me to make sure it was not a trick. You are alone?"

"Soldiers are just above the treetops on the path. But surely you saw that for yourself earlier."

"Of course. It would be impossible not to. What do the soldiers intend to do here?"

"Take me to her ladyship and I will tell you."

Lucius led Gaucelm upward, the lamp in his hand lighting the way. They passed by an arched doorway, open to reveal a hall. Small pools of light and torches mounted on the walls revealed several groups of people gathered, all wearing long, white tunics, almost luminescent in the firelight. But Lucius led onward.

At the top of a short stairway, he opened a door to a private chamber. Allesandra stood at one end, her hand on an oaken mantel, a poker in the other hand where she straightened from stirring up the fire. Her great violet eyes were troubled. She

nodded to Lucius, who retreated and closed the door behind them.

Gaucelm went down on one knee, his head bent. "My lady," he said with great humility. "I came to you before to warn you. I come now to surrender."

His words moved her beyond everything she had imagined and she dropped the poker on the floor and swept forward. She sank to her own knees and reached for him, and they took each other in a desperate embrace. She trembled in his arms. But she saw the love in his eyes now, something she'd been afraid she'd never see again.

"How did you know I would be here?" she said in a shaking voice.

"When I told you where we were going, I felt sure you would join your friends here in their last refuge."

"And now?"

"If I can, I will help you and all of them escape. The soldiers are as yet only on the path that leads here. In the morning they will surround the castle, but that will take time. If your friends are brave, we can tie ropes and lower them over the walls. Those who are fit can surely scramble down the rocks as far as the trees and the woods. When the surrounding army is in place, they will find they've been left with an abandoned fortress."

"They will not go," she said.

He knew she referred to the Cathars who were gathered here.

"How many?" he said grimly.

"More than a hundred. I came here for the same reason as you. To try to help them escape to yet another place. But this is the place where they wish to die. They are not afraid. Their faith sustains them."

He narrowed his eyes. "And yourself?"

She turned her head to nestle it against him. "I will go with you, my lord. I have been stubborn and I don't deserve your love or for you to risk your life for me. But these many months I've had time to examine my conscience. I have done all I can for the

believers, truly. It is important that some of us escape. There are documents, treasures that must be kept safe. Some of the others are determined to be martyred. I am too weak to die. My strength comes from you, Gaucelm, I know that now. I cannot live without you."

Gaucelm closed his eyes and wept into her hair. "To hear you say those words, my love, means everything to me. I had feared you would reject me again."

"No, no, never. My heart has never rejected you."

He held her for as long as he could and then he kissed her on the lips before helping her to her feet. "Then tell me what to do. Who goes with us and what do we take?"

"The valuables are already packed. Jean de Batute brought me here. He will go with us. And two of the believers. There is an easy way down from the north tower. Once we reach the woods there is a path. I have already made my last good-byes."

"And Lucius Hersend?"

She shook her head, tears moistening her eyes. "He will remain here. It is his choice."

"A pity. He is a good man."

She nodded and allowed herself one more embrace. Then before more tears could escape, she straightened and walked to the doorway. From there she led Gaucelm down the steps and through the hall. The believers were gathered in circles, some holding hands, many with heads bowed in prayer. None looked up as they passed.

He followed Allesandra up the tower stairs and into a chamber near the top where he recognized Jean de Batute and was introduced to a man and woman he'd not seen before.

"Gaucelm goes with us," she told them. "He will lead us to safety."

"We are ready," said Jean. "The way is clear. We need only lower ourselves out this window to the rocks. From there we climb down. I'll go first, then you throw the packs after me."

Allesandra turned to Gaucelm just as she was ready to grasp

the ropes and make the descent.

"Go safely," he said to her, laying has hand on her arm. "I

don't want any harm coming to my wife-to-be."

Her lips trembled with pent-up emotion. But happiness was

there, too, because she would be with Gaucelm at last, though

she did not know where.

He squeezed her arm. "I will be right behind you, my lady." "Yes," she whispered. "And we will never part again." "Never," he said with a certainty that filled her heart. "Never

again."

Epilogue

Allesandra and Gaucelm made their way down the mountain, taking the Cathars' most treasured valuables with them. The party traveled for many days through the mountains and at last reached the Mediterranean Sea. From there they sailed to Genoa, and in later years to Alexandria.

Wherever they went, Allesandra was received as one of the foremost troubadours of her day. Her reputation in the noblest of courts was great. Gaucelm did well as a knight both in tournament and in battle. Their marriage was a happy one, and their love shone in all the exotic ports they set foot in and in all the courts from great to small.

They kept abreast of news from Languedoc, which became firmly entrenched in the French Crown through the marriage of Jeanne of Toulouse and the king's brother, Alphonse. Years passed and Count Raymond VII failed to sire a son.

Allesandra and Gaucelm at last decided to return home and

take up residence once more on the great Valtin demesne. There, they sired sons, who were raised to become great knights.

Allesandra and her husband walked together hand-in-hand, giving strength to the people of Toulouse in a land that once rang with the songs of the troubadours.

OMYFORYDC

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