A King's Ransom

 

ONCE MARIAM WAS ABLE to travel, they departed Narbonne for Carcassonne. Cardinal Melior was very unhappy about stopping there, for the Trencavel viscount was even more closely associated with the Cathars than Count Raimond and had been excommunicated twice, once for imprisoning the Bishop of Albi and once for failing to root out heresy in his lands. Viscount Roger’s health had been deteriorating in recent years and although he rose from his sickbed to greet his illustrious guests, he soon retreated back to his bedchamber, leaving it to his wife, Adelais, and his eight-year-old son, Raimond-Roger, to entertain them. Adelais was Raimond’s elder sister, a stunning, statuesque woman in her late thirties, and, like him, a patron of troubadours. Her son, a handsome, precocious child, obviously enjoyed playing host, and even the papal legate found himself smiling at the sight of the boy in his father’s seat at the high table, proudly presiding over the welcoming feast.

 

Carcassonne was much smaller than Narbonne, but with a formidable castle and equally formidable stone walls encircling the town. Its markets could not compare with those of Narbonne, but the women still enjoyed strolling its narrow streets, taking in the sights and marveling at the surprising number of cats sauntering about—sleek, well-fed creatures that, unlike felines elsewhere, seemed to be doted upon as pets, not just as mousers. They were having a pleasant outing until they noticed an elderly man garbed in black surrounded by an admiring crowd. He seemed to be blessing them, and the women exchanged curious glances. But when Anna and Alicia would have approached, they were stopped by Raimond, who said wryly, “The cardinal would have an apoplectic fit if I let you greet one of the Cathars’ ‘good men.’”

 

The girls came to an abrupt halt, staring in fearful fascination at the first heretic they’d ever seen; it was something of a letdown, for the Cathar priest looked more like a benevolent grandfather than a great enemy of the Church. They giggled when Raimond assured them that his cloven hooves were hidden by his long robe, but even Anna kept her distance. Berengaria asked, horrified, if all of those people were heretics, and was relieved when Raimond said that some of them were Believers, but others were simply showing respect to a man well regarded in the community. Her relief soon dissipated, though, as she realized how easily good Christians could be led astray, and she asked Raimond to escort them to a church so she could pray for their imperiled souls.

 

“Will you be praying for my soul, too, my lady?” he teased, but his smile vanished when she said she was already praying to the Almighty on his behalf, for she believed him to be a good man, albeit a very misguided one. Joanna, close enough to have caught this exchange, noted with amusement that for once, Raimond seemed at a loss for words. But he did as Berengaria requested and took them to the beautiful cathedral of St Nazaire, where they were welcomed by the bishop himself and Berengaria lit candles for her husband in Germany, her family in Navarre, Count Raimond, and those in danger of being seduced by the Cathar heresies.

 

 

 

THAT NIGHT THE TROUBADOURS were to perform, but the castle was not yet astir with preparations for the evening’s entertainment. Joanna assumed the Lady Adelais was abovestairs with her ailing husband, and Raimond was not in the hall, either. Cardinal Melior was dictating a letter to the archdeacon, who also served as his scribe. Anna and Alicia were listening raptly as Mariam read aloud the story of the tragic lovers Tristan and Iseult. Sir Stephen de Turnham and the knights of Joanna and Berengaria’s household were passing the time with a dice game and Berengaria was playing chess with Raimond-Roger. He’d won the first game, much to his delight; it was obvious to Joanna that her sister-in-law was strongly drawn to Raimond’s young nephew, and as she watched them, she found herself thinking that Berengaria would be a good mother. She quickly added God willing, for they were all in His hands, and because the thought of children too often made her sad, she rose and left the hall, her dogs at her heels.

 

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