Read The Passion of Dolssa Online
Authors: Julie Berry
The Passion of Dolssa (50 page)
For any who may wonder, I do believe her.
ernando Díaz sat in the shade of the village church in Polinyino, Aragón, and dumped his pouch of polished stones into his hand. His father was inside the church, but Fernando, age eleven, had disrupted mass enough times that his father was content to leave him outside.
A stone slipped through his fingers and rolled in the dust. Fernando crawled after it. It stopped near a hole, the size of a brick or two, in the church’s wall.
“Little boy,” called a voice.
Fernando froze. He looked about and saw no one. The voice came from the church. Was it an angel, sent to chasten him for not attending mass?
“Little boy,” called the voice again. It came from below him; a movement through the gap in the wall caught his eye.
“Are you in the dungeon?” Fernando whispered. “They keep you there to burn you.”
“You’re a smart boy,” said the voice. “Do you fear God?”
Fernando’s eyes grew wide. What if this
was
an angel, in disguise, sent to test him? “I do,” he declared. “Of course I do.”
“Then, in God’s name, will you do a good deed for a woman about to die?”
Fernando scuttled back away from the church wall. People about to be burned were wicked, he knew. He shouldn’t talk to the woman. But he couldn’t even see her. And she was, after all, soon to die. Fernando hated the burnings. He pitied the poor sinners.
But this woman didn’t sound forlorn.
“You must keep this a secret. Never tell a living soul. Do you promise me that?”
Fernando had no intention of ever telling anyone he was talking to a convict. “I swear it.”
“Good boy.” The woman poked her fingers out through the hole. “Listen closely. Do you know the little house outside of town, on the winding road heading east, where Pedro and Maria live with their son, Bertran? Sturdy fellow, dark eyebrows? The old man has a limp, and their mean black cat has but one eye?”
“I know it,” said Fernando. “That’s the meanest cat in Polinyino.”
“You speak the truth. Can you go to that house, without anyone knowing, and give Bertran a message?”
That would be easy enough. “I can,” the boy said.
“Blessings on you, bright child,” said the old woman. “Tell him, ‘They’re coming. Go quickly. I gave you an hour, at most. Take good care of Papà. Go with God.’”
“‘Go with God,’” repeated Fernando. He hoped he could remember it all.
“He will be terribly sad to hear your message,” the old woman said. Fernando caught the catch in her voice. “Only that grieves me now. But tell him I said
all shall be well
.” She paused. “Unless he forgot to thin my onions this morning, and then I’ll haunt him when I’m dead, forevermore.”
Fernando felt sorry this friendly voice had to die. Would she really haunt her son over onions?
“Most of all, dear child,” it said, “never, ever tell a living soul I spoke to you, nor you to me. Once you give the message to the young man, he will vanish, and no one else in the wide world ever need know.”
Fernando promised. As a child, he understood secrets. He could run and deliver the message, and be back before the end of mass.
“And remember to never tell lies,” she called after him. “Liars are always found out in the end.”
He shivered. Why had she said that?
Did she know?
Perhaps others also knew about his lying to Mamà, that very morning, about the dropped basket of eggs?
He headed out of town toward the one-eyed cat’s house. The heat of the day bore down upon him. Imagine, building a fire to execute a sinner on
such a day as this! Was he wrong, he considered, to have made a promise to a wicked person? Should he try to forget it, and stay far away from where sinners made their dwelling? But he’d promised. Breaking promises was lying. That must be why she’d given that strange warning. But which was the greater sin? To lie, or to help a heretic?
Somehow, in spite of the heat, a nightingale found the will to sing. Fernando sat down under a shady tree to hear the tune, and wondered what to do next.
Ages given for the year 1241, unless otherwise noted.
P
RINCIPALS
Dolssa de Stigata, eighteen:
a young noblewoman raised in the city of Tolosa
Botille Flasucra, seventeen:
a peasant girl, tavern wench, and matchmaker in the seaside village (
vila
) of Bajas
Friar Lucien de Saint-Honore, twenty-five:
a traveling friar of the newly founded Dominican Order of Friars-Preachers, from the Dominican convent in Tolosa
B
OTILLE’S
F
AMILY
Plazensa Flasucra, twenty-one:
Botille’s older sister, head tavern wench and brewer at the Three Pigeons
Sazia Flasucra, fifteen:
Botille’s younger sister, of a fortune-telling and prognosticating persuasion
Jobau, fifties:
a drunkard, and Sazia’s father, who makes his home with the three sisters
C
HURCHMEN
Prior Pons de Saint-Gilles, middle-aged:
head of the Order of Friars-Preachers in Tolosa, supervising the daily living, preaching, and inquisitorial activities of a group of Dominican brothers
Bishop Raimon de Fauga de Miramont, middle-aged:
Dominican friar and bishop of Tolosa, originally from the city of Miramont
Dominus Bernard, forties:
parish priest of the Church of Sant Martin, Bajas
Friar Arnaut d’Avinhonet, fifty-four at the time of his writing;
a Dominican historian working in the archives of the Convent du Jacobins in Tolosa in 1290
T
OLOSANS OF
R
ANK
Count Raimon VII, forty-four:
the count of Tolosa, with lands extending far throughout the region; the most powerful and influential lord in Provensa, in spite of heavy losses suffered when Pope Innocent III declared a holy crusade against his father, Raimon VI, and excommunicated him for harboring heretics
Senhor Hugo de Miramont, thirty-eight:
a knight from Miramont who makes his home in Tolosa and serves as man-at-arms for Count Raimon VII
V
ILLAGERS OF
R
ANK IN
B
AJAS
Senhor Guilhem de Bajas, late twenties:
Lord of Bajas, and of its
castrum
, or grand fortified house
Na Pieret di Fabri, sixties:
noble in origin, the childless widow of a prosperous vintner, owner of many of the vineyard plots in the countryside surrounding Bajas
Symo, twenty-two:
Na Pieret’s nephew, originally from San Cucufati
Gui, twenty-one:
Symo’s brother and Na Pieret’s nephew, also from San Cucufati
Lop, forties:
the
bayle
(bailiff), an officer to Senhor Guilhem
P
EASANT
V
ILLAGERS
Martin de Boroc, thirty:
a fisherman, husband to Lisette, and father to Ava
Lisette, twenty-five:
daughter of the goat-cheese man, wife to Martin de Boroc, and mother to Ava
Ava, two:
Martin and Lisette’s daughter
Paul Crestian, fifties:
Lisette’s
papà
, the goat-cheese man
Joan de Prato, thirty-one:
farmer, husband to Felipa, and father
Felipa de Prato, twenty-eight:
wife to Joan and mother to two young children
Astruga, nineteen:
an unmarried young woman in search of a husband, known for her beauty
Sapdalina, twenty-two:
another unmarried young woman in search of a husband, a skilled seamstress
Focho de Capa, fifties:
a musician, jack-of-all-trades, and master of revels at village celebrations
Azimar de Carlipac, forty-six:
a shipbuilder
Amielh Vidal, thirty-three:
raises and sells, among other things, ducks
Litgier, twenty-seven:
a fisherman
Plastolf de Condomio, seventies:
the oldest man in the village
Jacme, Andrio, and Itier, twenties:
unmarried peasant farmhands to Na Pieret di Fabri
Garcia the elder, fifty:
a trusted and experienced servant on Na Pieret di Fabri’s farm
Garcia the younger, fourteen:
Garcia the elder’s only son
Saura, forty:
Garcia the elder’s wife, the mother of Garcia the younger
Peire, thirty-three:
a fisherman, Rixenda’s husband
Rixenda, twenty-nine:
a fishwife, Peire’s wife
The Passion of Dolssa
is fiction, but the historical setting is real. Some characters are borrowed from history: Count Raimon VII, Bishop Raimon de Fauga, and Prior Pons de Saint-Gilles (I took some liberty with the dates of his tenure). Dolssa de Stigata’s story is based on the lives of several medieval female mystics, set against one of medieval Europe’s most violent and disturbing conflicts.
Faith, Femininity, and Mysticism in the Middle Ages
In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, a movement emerged within Roman Catholic Christendom to imtitate Christ by living in simple poverty as Jesus and his apostles did. Monasteries reformed, and new orders of monks and friars formed, most notably, the Franciscans, founded by St. Francis of Assisi, and the Dominican Order of Friars-Preachers, or the Dominicans, founded by St. Dominic de Guzmán. Both orders rejected life in wealthy monasteries and devoted themselves to traveling and preaching.
Christian writers including Bernard of Clairvaux began to describe Jesus in terms of his compassion, empathy, humility, and suffering, as opposed to, say, his role as Judge, or Captain of the Hosts (armies) of Heaven. This was a Jesus anyone could admire and imitate—especially women. Bernard also wrote extensively in praise of the Virgin Mary. This was new. Mary as Christ’s pure and loving mother made a much more hopeful feminine role model for women to embrace than sinful Eve, Delilah, or Jezebel.
These changes, coupled with increased literacy and Bible reading, brought women flocking to religious lives, taking vows in convents or forming private religious houses. Many sought to know Jesus through prayer and meditation, seeking visions and visitations. Some claimed to receive them. Complete union with the divine was their goal, and it involved a path of sacrifice and self-denial. Such seekers, male or female, are called
mystics
.
Clare of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, Theresa of Avila, Mechthild of Magdeburg, Marguerite Porete, and Julian of Norwich are among the medieval women mystics upon whom Dolssa is based. These women lived startling lives, attracting followers and reportedly performing miracles. They practiced seclusion or acts of charity. Most insisted on lives of chastity, wanting no husband but Jesus. This was a bold, defiant choice in a society that offered women few prospects other than marriage. They took the idea of Jesus as their husband or lover quite seriously; in fact, many spoke of Jesus in passionate, sexual terms that would make modern readers blush.
Those mystics who could write seemed compelled to record their experiences, but for a woman to claim divine inspiration and publish her visions could be seen as usurping authority belonging to the Church. Some were embraced by the Church and sainted after their deaths. Others were executed.
Names and Places
Specific local religious controversies plagued the lands between the Garonne and Rhône Rivers during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Now present-day southern France, the region was called
Provincia
(“the countryside”) by Latin churchmen, and stretched well beyond what we now call “Provence.” The region’s famous troubadour poets called it
Provensa
, which I use in the novel, though most people thought of themselves more as belonging to their town or city (or its lord) than to a broader region.
After these lands became part of the kingdom of France in 1271, they were known as Languedoc, after
langue d’Oc
—the language (tongue) of Oc. (“Oc” was their word for “yes.”) The region was ruled by counts and lords, large and small; the most powerful were the counts of Toulouse.
Cortezia, the Friends of God, and Heresy
In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, Church intellectuals became alarmed about heresy, and the dangerous influence of false beliefs on the faithful.
Any unorthodox, unsanctioned religious idea or practice is a
heresy
; a person professing such beliefs is labeled a
heretic
. Heretics exist within their own faith; for example, Muslims and Jews can’t be considered Christian heretics. Wherever religious innovators appear, some are embraced as welcome new voices, but others are seen as dangerous to the faithful, particularly ones that challenge the authority or conduct of the leaders. Francis of Assisi’s humble poverty and charity earned him sainthood; Peter Valdez’s earned him excommunication. Peter’s followers vocally criticized the clergy; Francis’s did not.