Cathar.
The Holy Roman Church tried and failed to ban them in 1179. It claimed Cathars practiced unnatural vegetarianism and advocated the extinction of mankind, and that Perfecti were clearly homosexual since they always traveled in pairs. An attempt to overpower them with priests and monks trying to convert the wayward failed in 1203. By July 1209 the Cathar religion had taken firm hold in the Languedoc. Not only with the peasants, but also with the nobility, bourgeoisie, and wealthy burghers. Local Catholics, who were no fan of Rome and all its rules and dogma, supported friends and neighbors in their religious choice. It helped that most of the Catholic clergy were corrupt and that Cathars lived virtuously. To the people of the Languedoc the enemy was anyone who challenged the authority and autonomy of the powerful viscounts of Toulouse, Foix, and Carcassonne. Which the Holy Roman Church did routinely. Catharism cast a simplicity that many found appealing. Love thy neighbor and the peace that goodness and honesty brought. Cathar homes were open and welcoming. Rome tried to label it heretical, but the fact remained that the Cathars were far more than a differing philosophy. They were a full-fledged, open competitor.
Gaining ground.
Which required extermination.
And that explained why an army of twenty thousand men waited outside the walls at B閦iers.
They抎 come from all over. The Papal States in Italy. The Militia of the Faith of Jesus Christ. Hospitallers of the Holy Spirit. The Knights of Saint George. The duchies of Burgundy and Brittany. The counties of Nevers, Auxerre, Aurenja, and Saint-Pol. English volunteers. The duchies of Austria and Berg. The Electorate of Cologne.
They would ultimately stand against the counties of Toulouse, Valentinois, Astarac, Comminges, and Foix. The viscounties of B閦iers, Carcassonne, and Albi. The lordships of S関erac, Men鑢ba, T鑢mes, Cabaret, and Monts間ur. The marquisate of Provence. The crown of Aragon. And a host of exiled knights.
Not a single Cathar participated, as violence was repugnant to them.
To eliminate the need for a bloody fight, an ultimatum was issued. Hand over the 222 heretics and B閦iers would be spared. The offer was considered and rejected, one of the local burghers remarking that they would rather drown in the salt sea抯 brine than betray their friends. The message was clear. The local Catholics planned not to cooperate.
So another way would be utilized.
Warfare then was a matter of siege rather than pitched battles on open fields. But the crusaders could not afford a lengthy stay, one that would deplete resources and allow the enemy time to organize. Many more battles would be required and their knights were bound to only forty days of service, the nobles who commanded them distrustful of one another, the mercenaries that had been employed wholly unpredictable.
But a siege seemed the only way.
Until fate intervened.
A small group of men from B閦iers ventured outside the city walls in an exhibit of force designed to annoy the enemy. They hurled insults and killed one of the crusaders, tossing the body into the river Orb. The mercenaries梘odless, lawless, and fearless, men who never showed a drop of mercy梬ere stirred to action. They charged, barefoot, dressed only in shirts and breeches, brandishing hand weapons. A brawl ensued. The mercenaries advanced and managed to breach the city gates, which had been opened to allow the retreating burghers to reenter.
A fatal mistake.
Within minutes bands of crusaders were inside the city.
The Dominican monk Arnold Amaury, there as the pope抯 legate, in supreme command, was queried. How do we know if someone is Catholic or Cathar? To be spared or executed? Amaury considered the inquiry, then declared that the Lord knoweth them that are his. Kill them all. He will recognize his own.
Which was exactly what happened.
Panic and frenzy reigned. Private homes were breached. Throats cut. Women raped. Plunder taken. Many of the residents sought sanctuary within the churches. But the doors were forced open and all inside slaughtered. Men, women, children, babies, invalids, priests. No matter. All were put to the sword and the town burned.
Ten thousand died.
Within a few hours the grand city of B閦iers was laid to waste with corpses and blood, the streets filled with brigands fighting among themselves over the spoils.
The Albigensian Crusade had begun.
Through the windshield Bernat spied the lights of B閦iers.
Truly, a monument to resilience.
The town had survived the centuries, today a center of French wine production. It still sat on a hilltop with its cathedral, great squares, vast esplanade, and picturesque streets. He was particularly fond of its rugby team, which had twelve championships to its credit. About seventy-eight thousand people lived there. But only one of those residents concerned him at the moment.