LESSON 15
MASQUERADE

FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNALS OF MRS ASHLEE DEVERE

The weather could not have been finer for an outdoor wedding.

There had been a few new arrivals in the camp overnight—wedding guests I was told—and among them was a masked man.

He was dressed in black, including the mask that had small slits to see by. It covered the top half of his face and tied at the back of his neck. The ponytail that sprouted from his head cover in one long curl at the nape of his neck was dark blond, and his skin was fairer than that of his gypsy companions. Still, his physique was just as fetching as any of the gypsy men’s and he seemed a carefree soul. He carried a pistol and a sword, as I did, and spoke only Italian, so he was not a Rom. His light-body was very beautiful, although there was a brooding dark mass around his heart. Judging from the extended size of his light-body I had to assume that this man was rather psychic.

‘Hmmm, interesting.’ I attended to my broth and bread. ‘What do you know about him?’ I asked Chavi who was sitting beside me.

‘He is part of the bride’s party,’ Chavi informed me, but then, gazing at the masked man, she said, ‘’Tis seldom you see a man that psychic with a broken heart.’

‘I noticed that, too. I wonder what the mask is for?’

‘He could be disfigured,’ Chavi suggested, ‘or hiding from someone.’ She seemed more disposed toward this theory. ‘Interesting, as you say.’

I’m afraid our curiosity was rather obvious, for Cingar brought the new arrival over to meet us.

‘This is my grandmother, Chavi, the woman responsible for today’s event,’ Cingar was telling the man in black. ‘And this wonderful woman saved me from the Duc de Guise…Miss Winston. Ladies, may I introduce Danior Terkari, a long-time associate of Jessenia’s family.’

‘So, you are the woman who vanquished the best swordsman in Orleans.’ Terkari took up my hand and kissed it; even his leather gloves were black. ‘This is a rare honour.’

I noticed the dark spot on the man’s heart lighten a little. I felt his attraction and it frightened and excited me at once. ‘You know all about me and yet I know nothing about you, sir.’

‘There is little in my past worth telling.’ He let go of my hand and looked at Chavi. ‘But perhaps Chavi would do me the service of telling me something of my future?’ he asked lightheartedly. ‘I have been hearing of your talent as an oracle. I would be happy to pay you, of course.’

The old gypsy’s frown lifted. ‘Would you like a private reading?’ She smiled her toothy grin.

‘I have nothing to hide.’ Terkari took a seat beside Chavi at the campfire and removed one of his gloves.

‘Then why the mask?’ I queried and was sorry that I mentioned it, because Terkari’s joviality lessened considerably.

‘I was speaking metaphorically,’ he replied, managing to regain his smile as he offered his hand to Chavi.

He must be disfigured, I thought, and yet I was sure such a wound would register on his light-body, to some extent at least. I felt awful for raising the subject in any case, damn my curiosity. Still, remorse didn’t stop me from staying to hear what Chavi had to say about the mysterious fellow. Of course, I was tempted to peek inside his thoughts, but after my experience with Devere I decided that people’s thoughts best remained their own. If I had been any other woman, I would still be living in blissful ignorance with a man who made me deeply content and happy.

‘You are very psychic yourself,’ Chavi began, and then raised both eyebrows in surprise. ‘However…this is only a recent development for you.’

Terkari nodded to confirm this.

The old woman closed her eyes briefly, and then gasped, looking at me before her attention darted back to the man she was reading for. She seemed a little hesitant to go on.

‘Please continue,’ Terkari urged.

‘A woman’s love ails you deeply. I’ve never felt such mourning for the love of another.’ Tears filled Chavi’s eyes. ‘She has made you doubt your worthiness, but you are most worthy. She has no idea of the precious gift she has forsaken in you.’ The old gypsy let go of his hand, and sniffled back her emotions to kiss his cheek. ‘So sad, but,’ she held up a finger, ‘you will love again, and soon.’

It was a short reading, but it had me teary and even Cingar was all choked up. It was hard to tell how Terkari felt about the prediction. Was he in tears under that mask?

‘Your reassurance is a great light in my heart.’ He reached for his money pouch, but Chavi wouldn’t have it.

‘That promise comes free of charge.’ She rose and departed to ready herself for the wedding.

‘Well, that’s dampened the mood.’ Terkari attempted to disperse the heavy sentiment of the moment. ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’

‘At least it was good news.’ I encouraged him to look on the bright side and his smile warmed. Damn, now I was even more intrigued, and I felt a kind of electricity passing between us. Oh no, I warned myself, I am sworn off men.

The captain made me promise to take care of his new friend. I think Cingar was trying to play matchmaker, and I didn’t need any persuasion to keep Danior Terkari company.

I had never much enjoyed singing, dancing and parties of a formal nature, but I had never before had the pleasure of attending a celebration so joyous and rowdy as this one. I danced until I was dizzy and was more deeply under the spell of my mysterious companion as every hour passed.

When evening fell the celebration showed no sign of winding up, but I swore I could not dance or laugh any more—surely it was illegal to have so much fun in one day.

The sound of guns firing raised a cry that the caravan was under attack. Panic seized my heart as horsemen began riding through the camp, firing weapons and wielding swords. All I could think was that I didn’t have Albray’s stone on me. It was in my caravan and I immediately ran to fetch it.

Terkari called after me to stay by him, but was forced to draw his sword and engage an oncoming mounted attacker.

Between myself and my caravan a rider reared on his horse to challenge me. Without Albray, my sword was useless, so I pulled my pistol and fired across the front of the horse. The near miss startled the animal, and it threw its rider to the ground. In the commotion I darted past him.

I scampered into my caravan, only to be wrenched off my feet before reaching the stone. I kicked my attacker with my free leg, but he refused to release me and as I was dragged back to the door I held my hand out toward the stone and willed it to me with all the determination I could muster.

The item slapped into my grasp. Albray, Albray, Albray!

I was finally yanked outside, but as my attacker turned me to face him, my being filled with all the strength and stamina of my knight.

‘A woman,’ laughed the man, surprised and delighted.

‘Oui.’ I noted he was French, so I smiled sweetly and belted him right between the eyes.

‘Miss Winston! Behind you!’ cried Terkari as he ran to my aid.

I drew my sword and turned to confront a mounted opponent charging at full speed toward me. To my surprise he did not raise a weapon against me, but was reaching out to grab hold of me. Albray did not hesitate to take his lower arm off as he passed, and he rode from the camp screaming.

‘Are you all right?’ Terkari reached me, looking stunned that a woman could strike such a blow.

No, I was not all right, but, thankfully, I did not have control of my body. ‘Never better,’ replied Albray on my behalf. ‘And you? Duck!’

Terkari had quick reflexes. He dropped to one knee and Albray engaged the sword of the man we had punched earlier. It didn’t take long for Albray to disarm the fellow and with a kick up the behind, Albray sent him running after his handless friend.

Terkari had grabbed the discarded sword and was in the process of fending off two swordsmen at once. Fairly impressive, Albray mused quietly, but I heard him and those were my sentiments exactly. We were hesitant to give Terkari any assistance, as he seemed to be having too much fun.

I heard the hooves too late to turn and I was snatched up into the air by one of the riders. He was surprised to be belted so hard and dropped me on the ground.

‘Come on,’ Albray challenged, sword raised and ready to strike, as the rider turned his horse around. ‘You can be handless, just like your friend.’

Clearly the bandits were losing the battle, and as most of his associates had already withdrawn, the rider wisely decided not to accept Albray’s offer.

A loud cheer sounded from the gypsy camp as the bandits were driven off. Albray departed my form at once, leaving my heart thumping in my throat and my body shaking from the shock.

‘Miss Winston.’ Terkari was at my side at once and caught me up when my knees threatened to buckle beneath me. ‘You need to lie down.’

I nodded to agree and pointed him toward my caravan.

Unwittingly, I had placed myself in a very compromising position.

There I was, laid out on my bed, Terkari seated beside me wiping my head with a damp cloth. I was noting how gentle he was for a man so fearless, noble and forbearing in spirit—all fine qualities that I had never seen in Devere.

‘The day has been rather enjoyable apart from that last adventure,’ he commented.

‘Yes…I haven’t had so much fun in forever.’ I looked away for only a second as I considered how true my statement was and when I glanced back his lips were but a breath away. I wanted to return his kiss and put Devere from my mind forever, but when it came right down to it, I urged Terkari back. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, don’t be,’ he assured me rather oddly, as if he was more relieved than bothered by my rejection.

‘Please don’t be offended…as much as I don’t want to be, I am a married woman.’ I was relieved to get that off my chest. When would I learn to kill these attractions before they started and not wait until they burned out of control? ‘I still love him, you see.’ A tear escaped my eye and I brushed it away, frustrated by how much Devere haunted me.

‘Then why do you persist in keeping us apart when it makes us both so miserable?’ Terkari said in English and I recognised his voice.

The shock struck me witless a second. ‘Devere?’

He removed the mask and forced a very sweet smile.

‘Are you testing me?’ I was referring to the kiss and shoved him off my bed.

‘I forgot that I wasn’t myself for an instant,’ he defended.

‘Did you have anything to do with that attack?’ I demanded, getting to my feet. Now that I thought about it, I didn’t see the attackers take anything. They looked more like they were searching for something. ‘Those men seemed awfully keen to cart me off somewhere.’

‘Yes, I noticed,’ Devere impressed on me. ‘They belonged to the Order of Sion, which I have nothing to do with. Perhaps your friend in Paris sent them after you.’

I took offence at his tone and implication. ‘Molier locked me in a room on your behalf,’ I pointed out, glad that he’d raised the subject of Christian Molier. ‘So, whose friend was he again?’

‘Please, Ashlee,’ Devere appealed, weary of fighting. ‘I have pursued you for weeks just to talk to you. Won’t you please hear what I have to say?’

‘And how do I know you are not just feeding me more lies?’ I was angry as I recalled why I had left him. ‘Keep her safe, Devere. Learn about her, learn from her and keep me posted. If you can please this woman, you will become a very powerful man!’

Devere was devastated that I had perceived that particular memory. ‘I know it looks bad, but you were my choice. I was fighting for your hand in marriage long before you ever knew I existed.’

The fire in his eyes struck at my heart and I crumpled. ‘I so want to believe you…’

‘Then take my hand, scan my mind and know it all,’ he offered, ‘just as Chavi did.’

‘I am the woman that she was speaking of.’ Recalling Chavi’s reading, my tears welled again. That was why he’d had Chavi read for him in front of me when they’d first met, so that I would know it had not been prearranged—not that any amount of money would cause Chavi to betray me. Devere had been clever enough to know that there was no better assertion of his love—I would always believe the word of a fellow psychic. I had been touched by Chavi’s description of this man’s deep feelings for his beloved and I forgot my anger, suspicion and pride, and kissed him.

‘I didn’t know that you suspected my Grand Master of killing Hereford,’ he confessed between kisses. ‘I swear to you, I would never have allowed it.’

‘I believe you,’ I assured him, encouraging him to cease talking and free his lips for other pursuits.

In retrospect, it was a great relief that Devere and Terkari were one and the same man, for now I could have the pleasure of loving them both.

I did adore life this morning.

To awake warm and snug in my lover’s arms held a kind of security that I’d never envisaged before. For the first time in my life I understood what home really meant and, instead of feeling trapped as I always imagined I would, I felt a deep sense of belonging and contentment.

It was most fortunate that everyone in the gypsy camp was so inebriated during the wedding celebrations, as we emerged from my caravan to hear talk of objects being spotted floating around my abode late last night.

I’m sure the red flush on our cheeks did not increase people’s faith in our plea of disbelief.

‘You know, I believe you folks need to abstain from the drink for a while,’ I said, to take the heat off us.

‘Yes.’ Devere backed me up. ‘I fear the excitement has gone to your heads.’ He wound a finger around beside his ear, to imply they had all gone a little loopy.

Chavi approached me, looking pleased that Devere was unmasked this morning, and I noticed her son was headed our way too. ‘I told you love would catch up with you,’ the old gypsy ribbed me.

‘Yes, you did,’ I was happy to concede.

‘You both hang on tighter from now on,’ she suggested, and we both assured her that we intended to follow her advice. Chavi wandered off to be about her chores.

‘It fills my heart with joy to see you together,’ Cingar stated, his arms flung wide as he embraced us both, ‘and that you were both unharmed by the raiders last night.’

‘Were there many casualties?’ I pulled back from the group hug.

‘A few scratches and bruises.’ Cingar shrugged and then smiled. ‘We gypsies are not unaccustomed to such raids.’

‘So you think they were thieves?’ Devere noted. ‘Was anything stolen?’

‘No,’ Cingar announced proudly. ‘They must have been counting on the celebrations dulling our senses…even drunk we proved a formidable force.’

Devere was frowning, for he knew that the raiders were no ordinary band of thieves. Then he released an unexpected cry of pain and gripped his head, as if he’d just been struck down with a massive headache.

‘What is the matter?’ I besought him, but Devere stepped away from me, his thoughts focused inward.

‘James!’ He called out his brother’s name, sounding alarmed for his wellbeing.

I moved to inquire after my husband’s concerns, when I noticed Albray appear beside me. Where have you been? Do you know what is ailing Devere?

Albray nodded, horrified.

‘Lady Devere has been kidnapped!’ My husband emerged from his harrowing vision to impart his news. ‘My brother has been bound, gagged and left somewhere!’ Devere looked at me, with determination and frustration on his face. ‘I have to find him! I must leave at once.’

‘We must leave at once,’ I corrected, as the news of my dear friend’s kidnapping sent shockwaves through my body.

‘I shall have horses prepared.’ Cingar jumped into action, whistling to entreat the aid of some of his men.

It is Molier who has taken your friend, Albray advised, his voice filled with spite.

‘What would Molier want with Susan?’ I asked Albray, and in my rush to obtain answers I completely forgot that my knight was not physically present.

Since he could not take you by force last night, maybe he figured it was easier to have you follow him of your own accord?

‘Our dear sister is also of the blood,’ Devere informed me, curiously eyeing over the spot where my attention was focused.

I gasped. ‘Really?’

He nodded. ‘Although her line is not as strong as yours, she is still a Grail princess.’

‘But why is Molier so interested in the women of my bloodline?’ I looked at Devere who shrugged, and then at Albray.

I suspect Molier has the Fire-Stone vial, my knight announced, giving this information for the first time without so much as blinking an eye.

I gasped, having little idea of what this meant to my own mission. I felt a deep foreboding in my gut.

‘Are you talking about the fabled Star and Fire vials alleged to contain the ambrosia of the gods, and that were mysteriously self-filling?’ Devere inquired of Albray.

I gasped again upon realising that Devere was aware of my knight. I was also stunned that he knew about the vials, and more than I did, obviously. I had not noted that the Star substance in my vial was self-replenishing and I was dying to check my secret treasure to see whether the dose I’d given the Duc de Guise’s son had indeed replaced itself. ‘How do you know about the vials?’

All the brothers know of them, Albray answered for him. Though there is much more to these vials than lowly initiates like us are ever told. For example, I could tell you that the temple complex from which the vials originate can only be opened by a daughter of the blood.

I was speechless. Why had Albray not told me this before?

‘That does seem to explain Molier’s interest in my wife and Lady Susan,’ Devere conceded.

‘But I thought Molier was going to Italy?’

‘It is just as easy, if not easier, to reach Rome by sea,’ Devere pointed out.

‘I realise that, but why kidnap Susan? Unless Molier plans on going to the temple complex in the Sinai.’

Exactly, Albray said.

‘He only has one of the vials, you said,’ Devere pointed out. ‘Without the other vial, what good would the journey do him? Unless he believes the other vial is still hidden within the complex?’

‘Hmmm.’ I saw Devere’s point all too clearly, but I was not ready to confess my little secret…which had damn near been uncovered during our flight of passion last night! Fortunately, I’d managed to remove the vial from my person and hide it before my husband could discover it.

‘Does Molier suspect where the other vial is hidden?’ I sought Albray’s opinion, and he nodded without saying more, lest Devere discover my secret.

‘Perhaps we can get to it first?’ Devere suggested.

‘Perhaps.’ To avoid the subject I decided I should introduce my two favourite men to each other. ‘Albray, meet Mr Devere, who fought alongside us last night as the masked bandit, Danior Terkari. Mr Devere, I’d like you to meet my skill with a sword, Albray.’

The two men became rather uncomfortable with each other after my introduction. It seemed to make them uneasy that they liked each other better than either would have expected.

‘I thank you for taking such good care of my wife during our misunderstanding,’ Devere ventured.

Albray waved off the gratitude. That is my job.

Devere was slightly disturbed by the claim. I knew he felt that it was his job to protect me.

‘I called Albray to my service before we ever became involved,’ I advised my husband, hoping to avoid any unpleasantness, but the look on Devere’s face told me that I’d just made matters worse.

‘You’ve been advising my wife all along,’ Devere said, sounding a little hurt and annoyed.

Only insofar as her psychic skills are concerned, Albray corrected my husband’s misunderstanding. In matters of the heart I have always pleaded ignorance.

I smiled, amused by his comeback. ‘That is very true.’

I can aid you to find your brother, Albray added, as further comfort. It seems that we now have a common cause.

‘To protect my wife?’ Devere presumed.

Albray nodded. ‘And defeat Molier.’

My husband appeared a little confused by the conviction underlying Albray’s statement.

‘Albray and Molier have a history,’ I explained. In truth, I had yet to learn the story behind the dispute.

Devere looked at Cingar and his men, and was surprised to find that they’d readied several more horses than we needed. The port of Marseilles was but a short ride away. Devere was even more surprised to spy Nanny Beat approaching with bags in hand.

‘Mrs Winston.’ He acknowledged my maidservant and drew my attention to her approach.

The three gypsy girls she’d been caring for were begging her not to go, and she seemed torn between her duty to me and her affection for them. ‘Nanny, you are as psychic as me sometimes, I swear.’

She nodded astutely. ‘I am ready, when you are.’

How the woman could ignore the three weeping girls hanging from her skirts was beyond me. ‘Dear Nanny.’ I touched her cheek, and in that moment she knew that I was releasing her from her duty to me, and her face filled with both sadness and relief.

‘No, mistress.’ She urged me to reconsider. ‘I so wanted to be Nanny to your children.’

I smiled at her sentiment, thinking she’d be waiting a while to fulfil that wish, if I had any say in the matter. ‘If I find myself in need, I shall track you down. Will you return to England, or stay with the Chorons?’

The way the three girls cheered and danced about I figured I had the answer and Nanny’s smile confirmed it. ‘May your spirits keep you safe from ill, just as they always have.’ Nanny hugged me tight.

‘You are the best friend, adviser and mother that anyone could ask for. Thank you for getting me this far.’ I kissed her cheek, and the three girls began dragging Nanny and her possessions back to their caravan.

Cingar, Jessenia and several of the gypsy men rode toward us, towing our mounts along behind them. ‘We should make haste,’ Cingar advised.

‘We should make haste?’ I queried why Cingar, and several of his people, were including themselves in this mission.

‘I owe you my life,’ Cingar informed me, ‘and I vowed to see you safely to the sea. I have connections at the docks and abroad who will prove most useful.’

‘You cannot leave your people without a captain.’ I insisted that he was going beyond the call of duty.

‘They are under Beval’s protection and will journey to Italy with him. I know where I can rejoin them at any given time,’ Cingar said. ‘We Chorons pay our debts.’

‘You owe no debt—’ I attempted to release him.

‘Not only are you wasting your breath,’ Cingar cut me off, ‘but we are wasting precious time.’

‘Wait.’ I remembered Hereford’s journal and ran quickly back to my lodgings to grab it, among other things.

I pulled the Star vial from its hiding place beneath my bedcovers and, to my great amazement, it was indeed filled to the stopper again with the mysterious white glowing substance. ‘Well, I’ll be.’ Still, there was no time to ponder the mystery. I placed the vial in its usual hiding place, then grabbed Hereford’s book and the bottle of foul-smelling insect repellent that I’d found in the back of the hollow red book. I tossed these in a bag with a few other personal effects and bade farewell to my comfortable little caravan.

Perhaps the hasty goodbye was for the best. I had grown so fond of my gypsy friends that parting from them would have been far more difficult had my best friend and her husband not been in great peril. I had no time to think of my own feelings and, before the sorrow of departing had come upon me, I was halfway to the port of Marseilles.

The sound of choppers overhead compelled me to place aside Ashlee’s journal.

Outside my tent I found Akbar and his two charges staring up into the vast blue sky.

‘Is Andre back already?’ I queried, shielding my eyes to get a look at the incoming craft. To my surprise I saw two large helicopters airlifting a huge freight container our way. ‘Surely that is not the shipment of white powder I ordered?’ If it was, the amount I’d been sent was rather excessive.

‘It is Molier,’ Akbar said surely and then looked my way. ‘I told you he would come.’

I stared back at him, praying to god that Akbar was wrong, when Kadar and Kamali yelled a warning to us to get out of the way.

The choppers had bypassed the helipad and were positioning themselves right over where we were standing. We retreated to watch the large container lower to the ground in front of us with a thud. The choppers then detached their towlines and returned to whence they’d come. In the wake of the commotion, a deathly silence ensued, or it certainly felt so by comparison.

The container had a door, which seemed to indicate that it was for habitation, but there was not a single window.

You should return to your tent, Mia, Albray advised as he appeared beside me. Molier won’t be able to exit the container until after sundown.

And then what will I do? I felt so unprepared. I still didn’t know half of what I felt I needed to know to confront Molier. I had to get back to Ashlee’s story and finish it.

I had no sooner turned toward the tent when the sound of the container door opening behind me scared me to a standstill—I was almost too afraid to turn.

‘Dr Montrose?’

Surprised to hear a female voice, my apprehension lessened and I turned to see a young woman walking toward me who was French judging by her accent. She was petite and dressed for an office in a suit, French bun, makeup and sensible boots.

‘Hello, I am Tusca Resi, Mr Molier’s private secretary.’ She held a hand out and I shook it, then she kissed me on both my cheeks. ‘Mr Molier has been greatly looking forward to meeting you.’

I am certain about that. Albray voiced what Akbar and I were both thinking.

‘My employer suggests that you might like to join him for dinner this evening, which will give you time to read this.’ Tusca pulled an old double-ended scroll from under her arm and held it out to me.

The wooden handles on the rods of the ancient text were ornately carved. The parchment was bound tight around one rod of the scroll and then secured to the matching rod at the top of the document. These were then bound to each other by a piece of red leather.

‘What is this?’ I accepted it, curious, and glancing to Albray to see what he made of this development I was alarmed to see his shocked expression.

‘I could not tell you,’ Tusca informed me, ‘but Mr Molier assured me that it would be of particular interest to you.’

‘I see. Well, thank Mr Molier for me.’

‘Would six o’clock this evening suit you for dinner?’ Tusca inquired and when I nodded she retreated to inform her employer.

‘You should not have agreed,’ Akbar said once Molier’s secretary was out of earshot.

‘He’s my employer, Akbar.’ I looked at the Arab in appeal. ‘What would you have had me say?’ When he gave no further comment, I headed for my tent. ‘If I am not prepared to hear everyone’s view regarding this excavation, then how am I to know I am getting the whole truth?’

‘That creature twists the truth.’ Akbar followed me and, gently grabbing hold of one of my shoulders, he brought me to a standstill to heed his words face to face. ‘Whatever he tells you, you may rest assured that just the opposite is true.’

‘Later, Akbar.’ I decided I wasn’t having this debate right now. I had way too much reading to do.

Inside my tent, Albray was just as discouraging. Please, Mia, do not read that document, Molier is trying to discredit me in your eyes.

My knight seemed overly dramatic, but in his thought conveyance I could hear and feel his distress. Do you recognise this? I held the scroll toward him and he nodded.

It is the journal of Lillet du Lac. He seemed almost nauseated when telling me this.

‘But I—’ I pulled myself up before speaking out loud. I thought you were in love with her?

I was…He seemed at a loss to explain for a second. But that does not mean that the feeling was mutual, for as I have already informed you, it was not. Albray was frustrated. You must understand Cathar belief to understand the woman who wrote this account, for I did not understand her for a long time and in the interim we had…a few clashes.

Have you read this document, Albray? I asked, feeling that he might be getting worked up over nothing.

I don’t have to read it, Albray barked, walking off his frustration for a few paces to collect himself. I was there.

Albray, my employer has asked me to read this and is probably going to test me on it over dinner. This was a joke, but Albray was not amused. Nothing could ever taint my high opinion of you. If this account is scathing, then I must concede this woman did not know you as well as I do.

Clearly, Albray knew that nothing he could say was going to stop me reading the homework I’d been given. Then please dismiss me, he requested, but you must promise to call me to you before you go anywhere near Molier.

Of course I shall call you. The idea of going alone was laughable.

Promise.

His insistence had me worried; what the hell did he expect me to find in this manuscript? I promise.

I dismissed Albray before untying the red leather that bound the scroll closed.

It unfolded to reveal a large emblem, crowned by the title of the House of du Lac. The stamped emblem was scarlet red in colour and portrayed a dragon emerging from a lake with a lily in its mouth, which was contained inside the emblem of a five-pointed star. It was highly detailed and very impressive. The parchment had obviously been reinforced by some modern backing paper, which had prevented the old document from crumbling to pieces.

The text itself was in an old dialect, D’oc, that had been employed in the south of France around the time of the Crusades. D’oc was related to the provinces of Languedoc. I had a couple of computer programs that I could refer to if I found it difficult to follow the language. The penmanship was beautiful from the outset, and a pleasure to read.

‘So, tell me your story, Lillet du Lac.’ I settled at my desk with a cup of tea and some nibbles. I switched on my computer in case I needed to research a word, or anything else, and then began to devour the story of the Cathar priestess and my Knight of Sion.