Carcassona

JULHET I2O9

Alais rose early, awoken by the sounds of sawing and banging in the courtyard below. She looked out of the window at the wooden galleries and brattices being constructed over the walls of the Chateau Comtal.

The impressive wooden skeleton was taking shape quickly. Like a covered walkway in the sky, it provided the perfect vantage point from which the archers could rain down a hail of arrows on the enemy in the unlikely event that the walls of the Cite itself were breached.

She dressed quickly and ran down to the courtyard. In the smithy the fires were roaring. Hammers and anvils rang out as weapons were sharpened and shaped; sappers yelled to one another in short, sharp bursts as the axles, ropes and counterweights of the peireras, the ballistas, were prepared.

Standing outside the stable, Alais saw Guilhem. Her heart turned over. Notice me. He did not turn and he did not look up. Alais raised her hand to call out, but then cowardice overcame her and she let her arm drop back to her side. She would not humiliate herself by begging for his affection when he was unwilling to give it.

The scenes of industry within the Chateau Comtal were reproduced in the Cite. Stone from the Corbieres was being piled high in the central square, ready for the ballistas and the catapults. There was an acrid stench of urine from the tannery where animal hides were being prepared to protect the galleries from fire. A steady procession of carts was coming in through the Porte Narbonnaise bringing food to support the Cite: salted meat from La Piege and the Lauragais, wine from the Carcasses, barley and wheat from the plains, beans and lentils from the market gardens of Sant-Miquel and SantVicens.

There was a sense of pride and purpose behind the activity. Only the clouds of noxious black smoke over the river and marshes to the north where Viscount Trencavel had ordered the mills to be burned and the crops destroyed – served as a reminder of how imminent and real was the threat.

Alais waited for Sajhe at the agreed meeting place. Her mind was full of questions she wished to ask Esclarmonde, that swooped in and out of her head, first one, then another, like birds at a river. By the time Sajhe arrived, she was tongue-tied with anticipation.

She followed him through unnamed streets into the suburb of SantMiquel, until they arrived at a low doorway set hard by the outer walls.

The sound of men digging trenches to prevent the enemy getting close enough to mine the walls was very loud. Sajhe had to shout to make himself heard.

“Menina is waiting inside,” he said, his face suddenly solemn.

“Are you not coming in?”

“She told me to bring you, then go back to the Chateau to find Intendant Pelletier.”

“Seek him in the Cour d’Honneur,” she said.

“Okay,” he said, his grin back in place. “See you later.”

Alais pushed open the door and called out, looking forward to seeing Esclarmonde, then checked her step. In the shadows, she could see a second figure sitting on a chair in the corner of the room.

“Come in, come in,” said Esclarmonde, the smile showing in her voice.

“I believe you already know Simeon.”

Alais was astonished. “Simeon? Already?” she cried with delight, rushing to him and taking his hands. “What news? When did you arrive in Carcassona? Where are you lodging?”

Simeon gave a deep, rich laugh. “So many questions! Such haste to know everything and so quickly! Bertrand said that, as a child, you never stopped asking questions!”

Alais acknowledged the truth of this with a smile. She slid along the bench at the table and accepted the cup of wine Esclarmonde offered, listening as Simeon continued to talk to Esclarmonde. Already there seemed to be a bond, an ease between them.

He was a skilful storyteller, weaving tales of his life in Chartres and Beziers with memories of his life in the Holy Land. The time passed quickly as he talked of the hills of Judea in springtime, told them of the plains of Sephal covered with lilies, yellow and purple irises and pink almond trees, which stretched like a carpet to the ends of the earth. Alais was captivated.

The shadows lengthened. As it did so, the atmosphere changed, without Alais being aware it was happening. She was conscious of a nervous fluttering in her stomach, an anticipation of what was to come. She wondered if this was how Guilhem or her father felt on the eve of a battle. This sense of time hanging in the balance.

She glanced across at Esclarmonde, her hands folded in her lap and her face serene. She looked composed and poised.

“I’m sure my father will be here soon,” she said, feeling responsible for his continued absence. “He gave me his word.”

“We know,” said Simeon, patting her hand. His skin was as dry as parchment.

We may not be able to wait much longer,“ said Esclarmonde, looking to the door that remained firmly shut. ”The owners of this house will soon return.“

Alais intercepted a look between them. Unable to bear the tension any longer, she leaned forward.

“Yesterday, you did not answer my question, Esclarmonde.” She was amazed at how steady she sounded. “Are you also a guardian? Is the book my father seeks in your safekeeping?”

For a moment, her words seemed to hang in the air between them, claimed by no one. Then, to Alais’s surprise, Simeon chuckled.

“How much did your father tell you about the Noublesso?” he said, his black eyes twinkling.

“That there were always five guardians, pledged to protect the books of the Labyrinth Trilogy.”

“And did he explain why there were five?”

Alais shook her head.

“Always, the Navigataire, the leader, is supported by four initiates.

Together, they represent the five points of the human body and the power of the number five. Each guardian is chosen for their fortitude, their determination and their loyalty. Christian, Saracen, Jew, it is our soul, our courage that matters, not blood or birth or race. It also reflects the nature of the secret we are pledged to protect, which belongs to every faith and to none.“ He smiled. ”For more than two thousand years, the Noublesso de los Seres has existed – although not always under that name to watch over and protect the secret. Sometimes our presence has been hidden, other times we have lived openly.“

Alais turned to Esclarmonde. “My father is unwilling to accept your identity. He cannot believe it.”

“It flies in the face of his expectation.”

“It was ever thus with Bertrand,” chuckled Simeon.

“He would not have anticipated the fifth guardian being a woman,” Alais said, coming to her father’s defence.

“It was less remarkable in times gone past,” said Simeon. “Egypt, Assyria, Rome, Babylon, these ancient cultures of which you have heard tell, accorded more respect to the female state than these dark times of ours.”

Alais thought a moment. “Do you think Harif is right to believe the books will be safer in the mountains?” she asked.

Simeon raised his hands. “It is not for us to seek the truth or to question what will or will not be. Our task is simply to guard the books and to protect them from harm. To make sure that they are ready when they are needed.”

Which is why Harif chose your father to carry the books, rather than either of us,“ continued Esclarmonde. ”His position makes him the most suitable envoi. He has access to men and horses, he can travel more freely than either of us.“

Alais hesitated, not wishing to be disloyal to her father. “He is reluctant to leave the Viscount. He is torn between his old and his new loyalties.”

We all feel such conflicts,“ said Simeon. We all have found ourselves struggling to choose what path to take for the best. Bertrand is fortunate to have lived so long without having to make his choice.” He took her hands between his. “Bertrand cannot delay, Alais. You must encourage him to fulfill his responsibilities. That Carcassona has not fallen before does not mean that it cannot.”