Temple of The Grail (44 page)

‘You are the Devil!’ the cook spat at
the foot of the inquisitor, and his voice having acquired a semblance of its
old strength roared and reverberated around us. ‘I am glad that I have finally
confessed my sins to God, for now I can savour death! But not this good, kind
monk who has done nothing! I am the murderer, I am the heretic! I have denied
the past for long years, and I soon will be cleansed and purified
en la
flama
– the flames of the
Espirito Santo
. But you? If there is
justicia
, if there is fairness in this miserable world, may you suffer
agonies as I have suffered in knowing you and having followed you into the arms
of the Devil! You betrayed us because you loved power and you lay with the
bishops and the pope and denied all that you taught us! Yes, is true, I wanted
the end of Rome, the end of the pope! But this is not different from what you
also had one time believed with all your heart . . . and yes! The emperor! I
would give my life for him because he hated the church!’

‘He was the antichrist! Guards, seize
this man!’

The guards moved forward to take the
cook, but he was strong, and with the power afforded him by anger, pushed them
away as one would an annoying insect.

‘No! I know what you came for . . .
you came for me, not these poor monks . . .!’

The inquisitor smiled, and stayed his
men with one hand.

‘All of my life I lived hiding from
the past like a rat,
como un ratón.
Used by Frederick, used by the
Ghibellines . . .’ He sighed deeply. ‘A used man today is used no more! When I
met you, Rainiero Sacconi, I was very young, and you used me also, used all of
us and like an orange you spat us out when you were
convertido
,
converted, changed, transformed into a whore who licks the hems of bishops’
skirts by killing all of us that you knew from those days . . .
mi amor
,
my love, Teresa
una mujer perfecta,
you burned her to death! But first,
you tortured her little body until there was
nada
, no more life,
bringing her naked with others to the crowds, and they spit on her, and poke at
her. After the
humillación
, her body was tied to the pyre and lit like a
torch, and her beautiful hair
,
gold like copper, turned black and melted
on her little skull as she fell, because the ropes they break, and her little
lungs choked on the smoke, and her heart exploded from the great heat. And I .
. .’ he cried like a child, ‘I was in the crowds, like a coward,
cobarde!
I
did not die with all of the ones that I once knew
! O qué miseria!
Wretched,
wretched coward that I am! I did not save her! She was so brave that when she
saw me, she smiled! She smiled because she was happy
qué había escapado
–
the coward had escaped! And God forgive me I was glad also!’ He covered
his face with large twisted hands and wept.

‘Tell me what I want to know.’
Rainiero had the same look on his face that I recalled my master having in the
library when he pursued the secret codices – ravenous.

‘Yes, yes . . . it was I, with
Stefano, Manfredo, and Carino, waiting for Piero to leave Como that Easter
week. I followed him and the friar Domenico to Barlassina until we came on a
lonely place. Carino opened Piero’s head with one blow, but I saw that he
breathed and put a dagger in his heart. That day I made up for letting her die!
I avenged my sorrow! Again I ran away . . .Today I am no more
cobarde!
I
killed the old brothers before they could betray my secret . . . The
infirmarian knew
nada!
’

‘Enough! Enough! Peace! You
instrument of evil! Nothing that he says can be trusted . . . and yet we have
heard from his own lips his confession and although the infirmarian will not
confess, his crimes are visible on the corpse of his victim. One can only hope
that he does so before we commend his body to the earth and his soul to hell.
Take them away.’ He ordered the guards to remove the two men. The cook now
exhausted and outwardly defeated, went willingly, though on his face there was
the glow of an inner triumph.

There was silence. Rainiero waited, satiated.

‘And so this interrogation would now
be over,’ he said finally, ‘if not for one terrible addition . . .’ He paused a
moment, lifting his head, surveying the faces of those whose fear must have
been legible. ‘It is the task of the holy inquisition, not only to find heresy
where it is evidenced, but also to recognise its supporters and heirs. For it
is well known that the heretical depravity, like a foul seed, needs a suitable
womb, an infernal bed into which it may be planted, nurtured and brought to
incarnation. We know, firstly, that those who visit with heretics or live with
them are their friends, since one cannot live, or visit, with a heretic, and be
ignorant of his dissent. The three brothers who were killed, we have learnt
today, were Cathars. The missing brother also shared in their lamentable
dissent. We must therefore surmise that heresy has found a safe harbour, in the
bosom of God’s house! Within these venerable walls!’

Cold whispers circulated round the
chapter house and were stilled by the raising of a hand. Satisfied, he
continued, ‘Further signs that alert us to the supporters of heresy are as
follows: those who declare the unjust condemnation of heretics,’ as he said
this he glanced at my master, ‘those who look away and allow heresy to bloom
and take hold. Those who venerate, one, the bones of burnt heretics, and two,
relics belonging to heretics, or books written by them! Therefore we cannot
find otherwise! This abbey is guilty! Guilty on all accounts!’ There was a
commotion, the abbot stood and the archers, sensing panic, readied at the
doors, ‘For I know,’ he continued, ‘that below us in the hellish bowels of this
monastery there are books hidden that have been deemed heretical by the church,
whose infernal substance aims to bring about the downfall of Christendom!
Therefore it is the finding of this tribunal that these crimes cannot, nay they
should not, be attributed solely to the two men just taken away, though they
may indeed be devils, for like a father who is responsible for the actions of
his children, so too is an abbot responsible for the actions of his monks. In
this case, responsible for the corruption of the souls placed in his care. I
therefore pronounce, as rare and distressing as it is to utter these words,
that the abbot is to be taken along with the other two to Paris, where together
they shall be delivered to the secular authorities for purification by fire.’

There was great agitation. Monks
stood, some cried out, ‘No!’, others made the sign of the cross, still others
shook their heads in their hands, in lamentation.

‘This monastery is to be closed,’
Rainiero continued. ‘Satan has lived here too long, too patiently, for it to be
restored as a place of worship. Its displaced community of monks may find
harbour in other institutions if any will take them. They will perform a
penance by wearing yellow crosses on their clothing, so that all may know they
have been tainted with heresy. Finally, all properties are to be turned over to
the church and secular powers.’

Now there was a stunned
silence, as the abbot was led off his dais and removed.

They found the bishop in the lavatory
shortly after vespers, in one of the cubicles. It was a gruesome sight.

Because of his size he was still
perched on the seat with his great buttocks wedged tight against either wall,
keeping him from falling into the channel of water beneath. His face was
bloated and running down his chin the familiar substance, which we now knew to
be the thick honey content of the wine. His obscene cross was gone.

‘Just as I thought, our missing wine,’
Andre said to me. ‘The stupid wretch must have run out of it in his own room
and proceeded to the larder where he found the poisoned flask.’ He picked up
the jug with the crooked handle and then he inspected the man’s shoes –
no mud.

The inquisitor, seizing the moment,
ordered an immediate execution of the three men held responsible for the other
crimes, saying that the Devil would not cease his work until his instruments
were purified by fire. At once he ordered the building of three pyres inside
the compound, saying that the service of compline would be carried out as usual
in an effort to stay the hand of the enemies of Christ, but that immediately
after, the abbey would be cleansed of evil.

In the confusion that ensued we crept
away and I followed my master in the direction of the church. Outside the
inquisitor’s men were already making preparations for the terrible event. Monks
gathered around aimlessly, for there was little use returning to any other work
when the future of the monastery lay in ruins. I frowned, pushing my head down
further into my cowl as we made our approach to the church.

‘Will they not notice that we have
gone, master?’

‘Perhaps, but we cannot waste any
more time. Soon there will be three pyres burning two innocent men, and
tomorrow this place will be a carcass whose bones will have been picked by the
pope’s greedy captains. We must get into the catacombs soon!’ he said.

‘So who is responsible for these
crimes? You said two innocent men would die on the pyre, that means one is
guilty.’

‘A fine deduction,’ he mocked me. ‘Perhaps
soon you will see, Christian, why Aristotle was right when he said that
evidence under torture is not trustworthy because under its compulsion men tell
lies quite as often as they tell the truth. I fear there are a number of guilty
persons. Perhaps in one way or another we are all guilty.’

‘Who then, master?’ I pressed. ‘I
know you know something.’

‘One of them it is certain is a monk
with small feet,’ he answered as we entered the church. ‘This morning after the
discovery of Daniel’s body, when you were sleeping off your gluttony in the
larder, I visited his room again. Something bothered me, and I realised it was
the size of the footprint on the floor. Before going there, however, I took the
liberty of procuring a sandal that belonged to Daniel from the infirmary. I
took it to his room and found that its size was inconsistent with the size of
the print whose traces could still be seen – because blood that has
congealed is not always easy to remove in haste. The print was not our departed
brother’s, but belonged rather to someone else, someone with very small feet.
Do you remember how I said that the one who hit me on the head that morning
also had small feet?’

‘Yes . . . That means that we have
finally found the evidence that we need to connect the author of our notes with
the killer!’

‘Yes, but only with Daniel’s killer.’

‘Then whoever it is must have killed
Setubar, too?’

‘That is what we are going to find
out.’

‘I thought we were going to the
church?’

‘Later. Anyone who saw us leave would
naturally think so, and that is precisely what I intend them to think. We are
really going elsewhere . . . to the infirmarian’s cell.’

Once through the church we made our
way up the night stairs and to the dormitorium. Andre led me to a room
identical to all the others, and here he began searching about, inside a small
desk, under the pallet, rummaging in the straw very carefully, until, after a
moment, he exclaimed, ‘Aha!’ He had retrieved a short metal bar that he placed
in the repository within the folds of his vestments.

‘What is it, master?’

‘The murder weapon,’ he answered, and
it was as plain as day Asa was the killer.

He looked at me with a satisfied
look. ‘It is as I suspected. Now we shall return to the church and await the
service. We must not give the inquisitor reason to believe we know more than he
thinks we know, must we?’

‘If Asa is the killer, master, why
did he demand to endure the ordeal?’

‘Asa is a man of science, I believe
he took a chance, he was doomed anyway and he knew it.’

‘But master, come to think of it, Asa
is not small.’

‘No. See this note?’ My master handed
it to me. ‘I found it in my room earlier.’

I read it, and found it was written
in the same identifiable hand and blue ink.

Physician heal thyself
– Basmallah.

‘What is that word?’

‘It is Arabic, a Koranic formula
which translates to:
in the name of God
the compassionate, the merciful
.’

‘But what does it mean?’

‘Numerically it is profoundly
significant, Christian, for it connotes the seven planets and the twelve
zodiacal signs. We are told that he who desires immunity against the nineteen
henchmen of hell needs to recite the Basmallah.’

I gasped, trembling all over, ‘Oh! He
threatens your life, master, he knew you would understand it.’

‘Hush now, Christian, soon all will
be revealed.’

C
hristian,’ the man said, ‘you have come finally. I have been
waiting.’ ‘Who are you?’ I asked, for he looked peculiar, like an Arab in his
dress, and yet not like an Arab at all.

‘My name is not important, only the
words. Listen.’ He looked about him at the nothingness. ‘Listen to the key, for
with it one can open the rings of knowledge.’

‘The rings?’

Suddenly I heard it, like the
duration of eternity, or a moment of liquid purity; pinnacles of resonance,
columns of exuberance, the spinning vibrations of space that is
circumiectus
then
internus.
Oh, raised cusps of praise! Singing, sighing
neptunian notes in aeolian and dorian scales of concordance. Miracle of being,
oh majesty! Oh dissolving, diffusing, dispersing notes of joy, fear, pain,
tears, wails! Limb-limbering, movement-inspiring, howling, weeping, laughing,
telluric and celestial
vocalisms
and
melismas!
And as my heart
was dazzled by the articulate eloquence of an origin indiscernible and
unanimous, multifarious and exposed, I heard myself say in wonderment:

‘What is this I hear?’

‘The spinning of the rings of wisdom
.’

‘But I do not understand.’

‘Do you think that bodies so great do
not produce sound with their motion?’ He pointed to the inky mantle pierced by
light. ‘Even bodies on the earth do so. You must remember that the stars and planets
move about the universe at a tremendous speed and their sound is concordant.’

‘But I have never heard it before.’

‘You have heard it always, and so you
do not hear it, for sound is only perceived when there is silence.’

‘The pause!’ I said.

‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘The psalms
reflect the tones whose rings are pure, the voice resonates forth and brings
about creation. One day man will speak forth man. Even now his breath is filled
with the promise of tomorrow.’

‘And the key?’

‘It has been hidden in the words . .
. hear the words and the rings will sound.’

Then . . .

‘Whosoever discovers the
interpretation of these sayings will not taste death. Those who seek should not
stop seeking until they find. When they find, they will be disturbed. When they
are disturbed, they will marvel, and will reign over all. When you make two
into one, and when you make the inner like the outer and the outer like the
inner and the upper like the lower, and when you make male and female into a
single one, so that the male will not be male nor the female be female, then
you will enter the father’s domain…Remember that is how a god became man, and a
man became a god!

 
‘Who are you?’ I asked.

‘I am the one who doubted. My eye
were crossed but now I see!’

‘Thomas Didymus?’ I gasped.

‘You have heard the message. Now
listen to the rings.’