The Sixth Key (22 page)

‘From God?’ Rahn asked.

‘What?’

‘Your orders?’

‘Oh no!’ The young priest blushed again and
laughed it off as best he could. ‘No, dear me, no! From the bishop at
Carcassonne. But I could tell you something about the church, and if he comes
into it—’ he lowered his voice, ‘—well, one can’t help that, can
one? A little tour perhaps?’

‘We would be delighted,’ Eva said
ingratiatingly. ‘If you don’t have more pressing matters to attend to, that
is.’

‘Oh, no, not at all.’ A sad expression entered
his cow-like brown eyes. ‘I’m really very free – the people haven’t grown
accustomed to me yet, I’m afraid. They keep very much to themselves. Bitten
once, you see, twice shy.’

‘Surely they come to church on Sundays?’ Rahn
said.

‘Yes, but not all of them, there are some who
have fallen away from the flock. But that’s not your concern, is it? Alright.’
He rubbed his hands together. ‘Let’s see, shall we? What can I tell you…first,
a little history . . . what do you know so far?’

‘Next to nothing,’ Rahn said.

‘Well, where shall we start? This village was
a large Visigoth centre in its day. You wouldn’t know it now but thousands of
people lived here. When the Franks defeated the Visigoths they sold the village
and eventually it came into the hands of the Trencavel family. You may have
heard of Roger Trencavel, the great Cathar.’

‘This town belonged to the Cathars?’

‘Indeed, and they, in turn, were conquered by
the Catholic Crusader, Simon de Montfort. Perhaps the heretics cursed the town
because after that it was bedevilled by the plague and under constant attack
from mercenaries – until it was almost completely destroyed. So, to cut a
long story short, the village eventually came under the governorship of the
Hautpoul-Blancheforts. Marie de Nègre d’Ables Hautpoul-Blanchefort was the last
in their line. Her castle is fallen into ruin as you no doubt have seen.’

‘Blanchefort?’ Rahn said. ‘Isn’t that the name
of one of the Grand Masters of the Templar order?’

‘Indeed. The Blancheforts were Cathars but
they also belonged to the Temple. This place is dotted with Templar castles
because it formed a part of the pilgrim route to Santiago de Compostela.’

‘And what about the church?’ Eva asked.

‘When Saunière came here around 1885 this
church was falling to bits, and he decided to renovate it. That’s how it has
become what it is. Shall we start at the entrance? I suppose you’ve noticed our
devil, Asmodeus?’

‘Yes. What interests me,’ Rahn said, ‘is the
inscription. It reads, “
Par ce signe tu
le vaincras
,” that is, “With this sign you will vanquish him”, instead of “
Par ce signe, tu vaincras
” – “With
this sign, you will vanquish”.’

‘Why, I believe you are right!’ the priest
said, enlightened. ‘Fancy that! Perhaps it was a mistake? Yes.’ The priest
seemed at a loss for words and turned his attention to the church again. ‘You
see there, above the confessional, there is a relief of the Sermon on the Mount
and the inscription “Come to me all those who suffer and I will ease your pain”
. . . And as we walk down the central nave, we see along the walls the Stations
of the Cross. Now, behind us, as you can see, opposite the entrance, is the
baptismal and a statue of Jesus with John the Baptist.’

‘John looks rather large?’ the girl said.

‘Yes, but after the baptism it is well known
that Jesus increases while John the Baptist decreases. Quite a clever man was
our Abbé Saunière. Now, if we move along, on your right we see a statue of
Saint Germaine, the shepherdess who was disfigured and gave away all her
possessions, and to your left Saint Roche, and then Saint Anthony the Hermit,
who was tempted by devils.’

‘The same saints that are found in the
Bugarach church,’ Rahn remarked.

‘Bugarach?’ the priest said, suddenly
attentive.

‘The abbé of Bugarach was my uncle,’ the girl
said.

He looked at her with a questioning
expression, as if he were trying to fit a piece to a puzzle. ‘I didn’t think he
had a niece?’

‘Did you know him?’ Rahn asked.

‘What do you mean, “did”? Has something
happened to him?’ There was a sudden intensity in his voice.

‘My uncle had an accident,’ Eva said.

‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask, what
sort of accident?’ He leant in.

‘He drowned,’ she said in a matter-of-fact
voice.

‘Drowned? I thought he’d had a stroke.
Strangely enough, I had a choice of coming here or going to Bugarach—’

‘Really?’ Rahn said. ‘What made you choose
Rennes-le-Château?’

Abbé Lucien looked at Rahn. His blond
eyelashes shivered like wings and he smiled a nervous smile, wrinkling that
young face. ‘I don’t like volcanoes.’ He nodded his head and touched the tip of
his black cap again. ‘My condolences, mademoiselle.’

Eva had charmed him!

The young priest continued with an awkward,
self-conscious tone that made Rahn feel like a third wheel: ‘Well . . . here on
the right we have Mary Magdalene, for whom this church is dedicated. Further
along on the left we have the pulpit and opposite that, Saint Anthony of Padua,
the patron saint of lost items. Behind the altar, one sees the Holy Virgin
holding her child on the right, and on the left, Joseph is also holding Jesus.’

Eva turned to the priest with a frown. ‘Two
Jesus babies in one church, how remarkable!’

‘I did say he was an interesting man!’ He
laughed a little, embarrassed and delighted.

The altar drew Rahn’s attention. He pointed to
it. ‘Can we get closer?’

‘Well . . .’ The abbé seemed uncertain. ‘I
suppose that would be permissible . . .’ He took a step and opened the gate
leading to the enclosure.

Rahn paused on the threshold to quell the
anxiety he was feeling, before following the other two. He wiped his brow and
tried to look calm but he glimpsed something that immediately took his eye. It
was a slab of engraved stone sitting against the wall. ‘What is that, Abbé?’ he
said, going down on one knee to look at it.

‘Oh, that is the knight’s flagstone. I don’t
know where to put it.’

‘It reminds me of a Templar Seal,’ Rahn said
as he looked closely, ‘two knights on one horse . . .’

‘It was placed here by the Blancheforts, I
believe.’

‘I see.’ But Rahn’s mind was now on the altar.
‘This looks quite modern.’

‘Yes, the entire renovation began when
Saunière replaced the old altar, which was really just one great slab of stone
sitting on two ancient pillars of the Visigoth period.’

They drew closer to look at the painted relief
of Mary Magdalene praying in a grotto some distance from a township; she was
depicted with a book by her side and a skull nearby.

‘What is that book?’ Eva asked.

‘Some say, mademoiselle, it’s the original
Apocalypse of John – the Book of Revelation in the New Testament. There
is a Cathar legend that Mary Magdalene was the sister of Saint John and that
she was the guardian of his book. The Cathars called it the Book of the Seven
Seals.’

Rahn’s mind was running through the
connections. ‘What’s that town behind Magdalene?’

‘Ah! Well, that is purported to be the New
Jerusalem, but some believe it looks like Rennes-le-Château. Have you seen the
Tour Magdala? It looks like the tower in the relief. Saunière painted the
entire thing himself, with the help of another priest.’

‘And this inscription is not correct either.’
Rahn read it out, ‘
Jesu Medela Vulnerum
Spes Una Poenitentium. Per Magdalenae Lacrymas Peccata Nostra Diluas
– Jesus you remedy against our pains and only hope for our repentance. It
is by way of Magdalene’s tears that you wash our sins away. The word
“paenitentium” is not only spelt incorrectly, he has also added
the word
“per” unnecessarily.’

The abbé nodded. ‘Once again, yes, I see your
point.’

By way of . . .
per . . . tenet
. . . Rahn set this aside for later digestion and
looked around, feeling hot under the collar. He concentrated, swallowing down
his fear. The wallpaper around the altar drew his attention. Something looked
familiar . . . and then he was struck suddenly and he saw it, and it was all he
could do to keep himself from crying out. There were hundreds of small
upside-down anchors entwined with snakes. His head pounded the significance into
him. That was the symbol tattooed on the dead man’s wrist!

‘Now, over here, there was once an entrance to
the tomb of Sigebert IV,’ the abbé continued.

But Rahn had to take a moment to digest his
insight and only managed to say, ‘That’s very interesting.’ He could feel his
hands shaking and put them in his pockets.

‘Yes, he was Dagobert II’s son,’ the priest
said.

‘A Visigoth tomb – is it possible to see
it?’ Eva said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

‘I’m afraid no one knows where the entrance is
since the renovations.’

‘What a shame,’ Eva said, looking at him with
her brown-gold eyes.

‘Oh, but Saunière’s housekeeper is still
alive!’ he said brightly, completely under her spell. ‘She might know
something. She doesn’t usually talk to anyone but it won’t hurt to ask. In the
afternoons she is usually in the conservatory. I will see if she’s available.
In the meantime you can have a look in the cemetery – you might find
something to interest you there.’

The graveyard lay on the south side of the church
and was sequestered behind a wall. To reach it they had to traverse the garden
with the Cavalry cross they had seen on their arrival. Rahn breathed in a sigh
of relief to be out of that church and welcomed going into the cemetery with a
lustful enthusiasm.

‘Did Saunière build this garden too?’ Rahn
asked.

‘Oh yes, to commemorate the end of his
building works. Bishop Billard himself came to bless the church. In fact, his
name is engraved on that plaque below the crucifix.’ The priest led them to an
arched portal dominated by a relief of a skull and bones, and unlocked the gate
covered in verdigris. Rahn noted that there was a rounded protrusion on this
side of the church with a little window high above. It looked like a recent
addition. ‘Is that a storeroom?’ he asked the priest.

‘Oh, that’s just the sacristy,’ he said,
fumbling for his keys.

Eva frowned. ‘Do you always keep the cemetery
locked? What about those who want to visit their relatives?’

‘There are not many who want to, but I’m glad
to open the gate for anyone who asks.’

‘But why lock it at all?’

‘To prevent people from . . . digging up the
graves.’

She laughed, incredulous. ‘What?’

The abbé gave a sigh. ‘Yes, unbelievable,
isn’t it? The lengths to which we must go to prevent the desecration of graves!
When it comes to treasure, nothing is sacred.’

‘What treasure are they looking for?’ Rahn
asked.

‘Visigoth treasure . . . not far from here, a
shepherd fell into a hole in the ground and found a casket of coins dating to
the time of the Visigoths. Since then it’s been rather difficult to keep people
out of this cemetery because beneath it lies the crypt of the dames.’

‘So, beneath the church were buried the males
and beneath this cemetery the females?’ Eva said.

‘That is what the church records say.’

They stood a moment inside the gates, looking
over graves that were less than well cared for. Above, the sky was as hard as
enamel and below, the weeds grew everywhere, headstones looked to be crumbling
and some had even toppled over.

‘The cemetery needs some work, as you can see,
but I can’t get anyone to do it.’

‘Why not?’ Rahn said.

‘We can’t keep tourists and riffraff from
tearing the gates down and yet the residents of the town won’t venture beyond
them!’

‘Really?’ Eva remarked.

‘They are afraid.’

Eva looked about her. ‘Of what? Their dead?’

‘So it seems.’

Rahn listened to this while he glanced down a
long avenue of graves. Towering above it, beyond the wall of stone, he could
see what looked like a glass conservatory.

‘Abbé Saunière is buried there, at the end of
this avenue,’ the priest said, noticing his interest. ‘I’ll go and see if the
madame will speak to you.’

He excused himself with a tip of his hat and a
bat of his eyelashes and left with his long black cassock rustling between his
legs.

It was eerily quiet now and Eva took Rahn’s
arm again, sending an electric shock to his abused head. ‘I agree with you, I
don’t like it here,’ she confided.

‘That’s why I think it is exactly the right
place,’ he said to her as they walked to Saunière’s grave. He had not had a
woman’s arm in his since Etienne, and it felt disconcerting.

The grave was nothing special, almost
conspicuously so, just a simple horizontal stone slab with the usual
inscriptions. They turned around again and walked back looking at other graves.
Rahn noticed an ossuary on the far left and Eva went to a place set apart for
the burial of unbaptised children.