OF AGED ANGELS M ON T E C O O K

Transcription

1 TM OF AGED ANGELS M ON T E C O O K

2 into arcadia Before now, long after then (in other words, 1917) T he dying priest s housekeeper put another log on the fire when the young girl arrived. Nevertheless, Cendrine still couldn t work the chill from her body. She imagined that the presbytery was a cold place even in the summer. Father Sauniere had by far the nicest and largest house in the village, and it was said that he had used it mostly to entertain mysterious out-of-town guests. Outside the window, January snow blanketed the small village. The Pyrenees mountains surrounding Rennes-le-Château hid behind the heavy white clouds. Stones from Roman roads still comprised portions of the path leading to and from the village, but the Romans were not the first to inhabit the Langudoc region in the south of France. Neolithic graveyards discovered decades earlier proved that humans had occupied this region for three thousand years. It was a sacred place to Celtic tribes and the Romans after them. It was the capital of the Empire of the Visigoths, 1

3 monte coo k who sacked Rome and brought back its treasures. It was a treasury and place of importance to the Merovingian kings, who never cut their hair for fear of losing their divine power. It was home to the Cathars Christian heretics who held onto traditions much older than their religion. The region could claim to be the origin of more Knights Templar than any other place in Europe. Religion and war were central features to this place. The hills were stained with the ancient blood of Arabs, Franks, crusaders, and Cathari. One could almost hear their cries for vengeance in the cold, snowy mountains. Though she and her uncle, Father Riviere, had left their village early that morning, the snow had slowed the mule cart. It was late morning now, and Cendrine s stomach rumbled with hunger. She turned to look at the woman standing by the door. Marie Denarnaud, the housekeeper, listened at the door to the sickroom, where Father Sauniere lay dying and Father Riviere heard his final confession. That was extremely rude, but of course Cendrine said nothing. Marie was ancient to the young girl s eyes, but not as old as either of the priests. She might have even been pretty once. The housekeeper s head turned toward her. Marie backed away from the door, cleared her throat, and looked at the painting over the mantle rather than at Cendrine. Excuse me, madame? Cendrine used her nicest, talkingto-adults voice. Marie s gaze fell upon her like a hammer. I have heard that Father Sauniere is rich, she said, but how can this be so? I have never heard of a rich priest before. Marie would not answer her. Instead, she sat down in a wooden rocking chair. It certainly is true, Cendrine continued, that the parish here is one of the most... she stopped. It really wasn t all that beautiful, though it certainly seemed expensive. She was not sure what the appropriate word was. Finally, it came to her. The parish is quite lavish. And the tower I ve never seen anything like that. The Tour Magdala... 2

4 of a g ed a n ge l s And what do you know of it? Marie s words were weapons, launched as an attack or perhaps more appropriately, a defense. You prattle on, girl, but you don t know anything. No one does. Only Father Sauniere and I know the real truth. Now, be still. Cendrine stared wide-eyed. Only a few times had an adult reacted to her in that way. Sure, her mother had been mad at her in the past, but only rarely had she affected an adult like that. Is there something wrong with the tower? Cendrine asked. Is there something bad about the parish? Why had she made Marie so angry? Wrong? Who are you, child, to assess what is right and wrong? Tell me that. Only the Church can tell us what is right and wrong, madame. Marie laughed, making a soulless, weary sound. The Church tells you only enough to keep you in line. They know much that they won t tell you, and there is much more that they do not know at all. Cendrine was frightened. She had never heard anyone talk this way. It was scary, but it was also emboldening. If Marie could say such unspeakable things, perhaps she herself could press on and say whatever came to her mind. As her mind reeled, she noticed that Marie once again stared above the mantle. Following her gaze, Cendrine saw the painting there. She saw what looked like shepherds staring at a large, rectangular box out in the countryside. The box reminded her of her grandmother s funeral last year like a coffin. What s that painting? The Shepherds of Arcadia. Nicolas Poussin. Her answer seemed to come reflexively. Marie did not look at Cendrine. Father Sauniere bought this print when he traveled to Paris. Why did he buy it? See those hills in the background? That s our own Rennes-le- Château. The painting is set not far from here. So is it real? 3

5 monte coo k That stone tomb lies there, yes. Cendrine looked more closely at the painting. What s that writing on the... It was difficult for her to say it for some reason. The writing on the tomb. Does it say who s buried inside? Marie looked at Cendrine with a harsh gaze, but it seemed at least a little gentler than before. Perhaps the woman was relaxing, or even opening up a little. That s Latin. Et in Arcadia Ego. And no, it does not reveal who is buried there. It means I, too, have lived in Arcadia. Cendrine thought for a moment, then asked, What s Arcadia? Who s buried there? I thought I told you to be still. Marie s countenance closed like a slamming door. Does anybody know what it means? Is it a mystery? No. Father Sauniere knows. I know. Then it s a secret? Yes, my dear. A secret. The fire flickered, but Cendrine could see that it was dying. Father Sauniere certainly has many secrets, doesn t he? Even God has secrets, my dear, Marie replied. At that moment, the door to Sauniere s sickroom opened, the thick stench of medicines and poultices issuing forth. Cendrine s uncle followed quickly behind the odor. Father Riviere s face hung, a pale yellow mask, as though he had lost blood. No strength no conscious command remained in his muscles. A rosary dangled from a grip so weak that Cendrine waited for it to drop to the ground. It did not. He paused by the door, lifting his free hand to the sill to steady himself. Cendrine had seen her mother look like this when Papa died. It was an expression that made it seem as though he was about to weep or about to be very ill. Marie seemed unaffected by his appearance. Did you administer the last rites, Father? After what I heard... what he confessed... I could not. Of course I could not. What? Father Sauniere is dying. You cannot refuse.... 4

6 of a g ed a n ge l s Marie s eyes blazed with shock and burned with outrage. Riviere gathered what little power he seemed to have left in his limbs. He crossed the sitting room and grasped the young girl s hand. Come, Cendrine, we must leave at once. Terribilis est locus iste. This place is terrible. 5