Alice was dozing in the shade under the trees when Audric reappeared a couple of hours later.

“I’ve prepared us a meal,” he said.

He looked better for his sleep. His skin had lost its waxy, tight appearance and his eyes shone bright.

Alice gathered her things and followed him back inside. Goat’s cheese, olives, tomatoes, peaches and a jug of wine were laid out on the table.

“Please. Take what you need.”

As soon as they were seated, Alice launched into the questions she’d been rehearsing in her head. She noticed he ate little, although he drank some of the wine.

“Did Alais try to regain the two books stolen by her sister and husband?”

“To reunite the Labyrinth Trilogy had been Harif’s intention as soon as the threat of war first cast its shadow over the Pays d’Oc,” he said. “Thanks to her sister, Oriane, there was a price on Alais’ head. It made it hard for her to travel. On the rare occasions she came down from the village, she went in disguise. To attempt a journey north would have been madness. Sajhe made several plans to get to Chartres. None of them was successful.”

“For Alais?”

“In part, but also for the sake of his grandmother, Esclarmonde. He felt a responsibility to the Noublesso de los Seres, as Alais did on behalf of her father.”

“What happened to Esclarmonde?”

“Many Bons Homes went to northern Italy. Esclarmonde was not well to travel so far. Instead, she was taken by Gaston and his brother to a small community in Navarre, where she remained until her death a few years later. Sajhe visited her whenever he could.” He paused. “It was a source of great sadness to Alais that they never saw one another again.”

“And what of Oriane?” asked Alice, after a while. “Did Alais receive news of her too?”

“Very little. Of more interest was the labyrinth built in the cathedral church of Notre Dame in Chartres. Nobody knew on whose authority it had been built or what it might mean. It was, in part, why Evreux and Oriane based themselves there, rather than return to his estates further north.”

“And the books themselves had been made in Chartres.”

“In truth, it was constructed to draw attention away from the labyrinth cave in the south.”

“I saw it yesterday,” said Alice.

2›Was it only yesterday? 2›

“I felt nothing. I mean, it was very beautiful, very impressive, but nothing else.”

Audric nodded. “Oriane got what she wanted. Guy d’Evreux took her north as his wife. In exchange, she gave him the Book of Potions and the Book of Numbers and the pledge to keep searching for the Book of Words.”

“His wife?” Alice frowned. “But what of-”

“Jehan Congost? He was a good man. Pedantic, jealous, humourless, perhaps, but a loyal servant. Francois killed him on Oriane’s orders.” He paused. “Francois deserved to die. It was a bad end, but he deserved no better.”

Alice shook her head. “I was going to say Guilhem,” she said.

“He remained in the Midi.”

“But did he not have expectations of Oriane?”

“He was tireless in his efforts to drive the Crusaders out. As the years passed, he built up a large following in the mountains. At first, he offered his sword to Pierre-Roger de Mirepoix. Later, when Viscount Trencavel’s son attempted to regain the lands stolen from his father, Guilhem fought for him.”

“He changed sides?” said Alice, bewildered.

“No, he…” Baillard sighed. “No. Guilhem du Mas never betrayed Viscount Trencavel. He was a fool, certainly, but not, in the end, a traitor. Oriane had used him. He was taken prisoner at the same time as Raymond-Roger Trencavel when Carcassona fell. Unlike the viscount, Guilhem managed to escape.” Audric took a deep breath, as if it pained him to admit it. “He was not a traitor.”

“But Alais believed him to be one,” she said quietly.

“He was the architect of his own misfortune.”

“Yes, I know, but even so… to live with such regret, knowing Alais thought he was as bad as-”

“Guilhem does not deserve sympathy,” Baillard said sharply. “He betrayed Alais, he broke his wedding vows, he humiliated her. Yet even so, she…” He broke off. “Forgive me. It is sometimes hard to be objective.”

2›Why does it upset him so much? 2›

“He never attempted to see Alais?”

“He loved her,” Audric said simply. “He would not have risked leading the French to her.”

“And she, too, made no attempt to see him?”

Audric slowly shook his head. Would you have done, in her position?“ he asked softly.

Alice thought for a moment. “I don’t know. If she loved him, despite what he’d done…”

“News of Guilhem’s campaigns reached the village from time to time. Alais made no comment, but she was proud of the man he had become.”

Alice shifted in her chair. Audric seemed to sense her impatience, for he started to talk more briskly.

“For five years after Sajhe returned to the village,” he continued, “the uneasy peace reigned. He, Alais and Harif lived well. Others from Carcassona lived in the mountains, including Alais’ former servant, Rixende, who settled in the village. It was a simple life, but a good one.” Baillard paused.

“In 1226, everything changed. A new king came to the French throne. Saint-Louis was a zealous man of strong religious conviction. The continuing heresy sickened him. Despite the years of oppression and persecution in the Midi, the Cathar church still rivaled the Catholic Church in authority and influence. The five Cathar bishoprics – Tolosa, Albi, Carcassona, Agen, Razes – were more respected, more influential in many places than their Catholic counterparts.

“At first, none of this affected Alais and Sajhe. They carried on much as before. In the winter, Sajhe travelled to Spain to raise money and arms to fund the resistance. Alais remained behind. She was a skilled rider, quick her bow and sword and had great courage, taking messages to the of the resistance in the Ariege and throughout the Sabarthes Mountains. She provided refuge for parfaits and parfaites, organising food shelter and information about where and when services would take place. The patfaits were itinerant preachers for the most part, living by their own manual labour. Carding, making bread, spinning wool. They travelled in pairs, a more experienced teacher with a younger initiate. Usually two men, of course, but sometimes women.” Audric smiled. “It was much as Esclarmonde, her friend and mentor, had once done in Carcassona.

“Excommunications, indulgences for Crusaders, the new campaign to eradicate the heresy, as they called it, might have continued much as before, were it not for the fact that there was a new Pope. Pope Gregoire IX. He was no longer prepared to wait. In 1233, he set up the Holy Inquisition under his direct control. Its task was to seek out and eradicate heretics, wherever and by whatever means. He chose the Dominicans, the Black Friars, as his agents.”

“I thought the Inquisition came into being in Spain? You always hear of it in that context.”

“A common mistake,” he said. “No, the Inquisition was founded to extirpate the Cathars. The terror began. Inquisitors roamed from town to town as they pleased, accusing, denouncing and condemning. There were spies everywhere. There were exhumations, so corpses buried in holy ground could be burned as heretics. By comparing confessions and half confessions, the Inquisitors began to map the path of Catharism from village, to town, to city. The Pay d’Oc began to sink beneath a vicious tide of judicial murder. Good, honest people were condemned. Neighbour turned, in fear, against neighbour. Every major city had an Inquisitional Court, from Tolosa to Carcassona. Once condemned, the Inquisitors turned their victims over to the secular authorities to be imprisoned, beaten, mutilated or burned. They kept their hands clean. Few were acquitted. Even those who were released were forced to wear a yellow cross on their clothing to brand them as heretics.”