揝he is right,?Fuentes said. 揟his does not concern you. But you will not be leaving. Not just yet. Now, sister梬hat is your name??
揅laire.?
揝ister Claire, please take me to the chapel.?
Chapter 67
Vilamur opened his eyes and immediately felt a throbbing in his head. He brushed away the cobwebs sticking to his brain and remembered. He抎 taken a punch in the face. Out of nowhere. The blow had knocked him out. He抎 been on the road, heading back down to ground level.
But now he was somewhere else.
An unrelenting breeze chafed his face and helped revive him. He was lying supine facing blue sky overhead. He brought a hand to his jaw and slowly worked the bone and muscle.
Nothing seemed broken.
He pushed himself up and saw he was lying about two meters away from the edge of a cliff. Beyond was open air with a commanding view of far-off peaks in sharp relief against the clear sky, a colorful valley of trees and meadows in between. The drop down was a hundred meters or more to rushing water. He shook off the dizziness in his head and managed to rise, turning to see a younger man standing a few meters away.
A face he recognized.
揧ou were at Monts間ur yesterday,?he said in English.
揥here is Bernat de Foix??
揑 know nothing.?
揧ou will tell me where he is, or I will shove you off that cliff.?
The threat was concerning, considering the younger man had a clear advantage of age, muscle, and bulk. Maybe forty years separated them. And though the arthritis in his hands was not so bad, his knees were much worse. He doubted he could take him. And he was far too close to the cliff edge. But he could not tell his captor anything even remotely close to the truth. So he decided to divert the conversation. 揧ou were there, yesterday, when I met with de Foix. Are you part of what he抯 doing to me??
揑f that means exposing your lies and deceit then, yes, I am part of that.?
Not good. But he had to maintain the fa鏰de he抎 so carefully crafted.
揋od抯 holy word teaches us to reject all fleshly desire and all uncleanness,?the young man said. 揥e are to do the will of God by rejecting the desires of the flesh and doing good, despite the unworthy servants that we are.?
Now he understood. 揧ou抮e Cathar too??
揑 am.?
A clammy, tight band of anxiety nearly suffocated him. The danger here had just multiplied. So he summoned up his best pastoral voice and asked, 揥hat is your name??
揂ndre Labelle.?
He knew that name. From last night. The person who抎 videoed him leaving Father Tallard抯 house.
Surely de Foix抯 accomplice.
Careful. Careful.
揗ight I step away from this cliff??he asked. 揟hen we can talk more.?
Labelle pointed at him. 揧ou抣l stay right there.?
He raised both hands in surrender. 揙kay.?
揥here is Bernat de Foix??
揧ou speak as if something has happened to him. Why do you think that??
揌e disappeared during the night. Where is he??
He started to step forward, away from the edge, but Labelle quickly blocked his way.
揑抣l shove you right over the side, if you try to get around me,?Labelle said.
And he believed every word.
So he stood still.
The wind kept whipping, drying his lips.
揑 was one of those Father Tallard abused,?Labelle said. 揌e touched me. Hugged me. Kissed me. He. Violated. Me.?
揑 am so sorry. Truly I am.?
揘o, you抮e not. You抮e only sorry that it was all revealed.?
揂ndre棓
揇on抰 call me that.?
揗onsieur Labelle, Father Tallard was a bad man. He was in the process of being prosecuted when he died. A death that Bernat de Foix was definitely involved with.?
揂s was I.?
揧ou and de Foix are both Cathar. Yet you killed??
揥e killed no one.?
揃ut others did, who are not Cathar.?
揊or many are our sins wherein we offend every day, night and day, in word, in deed, and by thought, voluntarily and involuntarily, and more by our will which evil spirits arouse in us, in the flesh in which we are clothed.?
揑s that a prayer??
揟he Apareilamentum. A general confession that all Perfecti recite every month when we profess our sins. Whereas the holy word of God teaches us we should put aside every desire of the flesh and every impurity and we should do the will of God by accomplishing perfect good. That man dying, going to your hell, was the perfect good.?
揑 could not agree more. He would have been convicted and spent the rest of his life in jail.?
揘ot good enough,?Labelle yelled. 揘ot even close.?
揅alm down. Nothing positive ever comes from anger.?Something occurred to him. 揌ow did you find me here??
揑 followed you from Toulouse.?