The Omega Factor(104)
How could that be?
“In 1431 the remains of a second maiden were added, the one who came to be known as Joan of Arc. We now call it the Chapel of the Maidens.”
“You have Joan’s ashes?”
The older woman nodded. “The church has no idea of that.”
“Why is Rome concerned about the Virgin Mary?”
“Fear and arrogance fuel that quest.”
A curious statement, said loud enough that the Dominican, Friar Dwight, could easily hear.
“It’s a story that began long ago,” the abbess said. “Christ came and died. Then men created a religion to worship him. They formed it. Molded it. Adapted it. So, understandably, they fashioned it in their thoughts and images. Eventually, they needed a woman, someone to counter the masculinity that they’d gone out of their way to infuse, so they invented Mary.”
“She was real.”
The older woman nodded. “Absolutely. The Bible tells us that she lived. But, beyond that, it says little more. It was up to the men of the church, in the second, third, and fourth centuries, to make her more. And they did. She was deemed born of an Immaculate Conception, free of original sin. The only human being ever afforded such status. Later, the Archangel Gabriel appeared and told her she would be the mother of God, though remaining a virgin for her entire life. And finally, she was assumed into heaven, body and soul.” The abbess paused. “That story has survived sixteen hundred years, intact, never shrinking, only growing. Finally, in modern times, popes declared it all official dogma, worthy to be believed by every Catholic as absolutely true.”
Which she herself fervently believed with all her heart.
“Imagine for a moment if the last part of that legend was false,” the abbess said. “There was no assumption into heaven of the Virgin’s body. She died like every other human being. Her flesh and bones remained here, on earth, like everyone else. If that was true, then the grievous error of the modern popes, who stamped her Assumption with papal infallibility, would be shown clearly.”
That it would.
“The church has survived for two thousand years by being strong, defiant, and consistent,” the abbess said. “It overcame the Reformation and so much other adversity. But the one thing it cannot endure, or survive, is the faithful believers questioning everything it says. Our religion, as every other, relies on unequivocal faith. Without that, there is no church.”
Kelsey understood. “So they want to destroy Mary’s tomb?”
“That is correct.”
“So what the maidens just did, rebelling against your authority, that jeopardizes everything this order has worked for?”
The abbess nodded. “Without a doubt.”
Kelsey now understood the gravity of the situation.
“Look at him,” the abbess said.
And she turned her head to face Friar Dwight.
The man stared at them with a smug grin on his lips.
“The look of victory,” the abbess muttered.
Chapter 69
Vilamur had to regain control of the situation.
Labelle stood three meters away, mumbling a prayer.
“Thou hast sworn unto Thy servants, for Thou alone art He who changest not. Thou alone art the Infinite and Boundless One. Thou only art ungendered, born of Thyself, Self-Father.”
Had to be some sort of Cathar incantation.
“Thou only art immaterial and hast no stain, ineffable in Thy generation and inconceivable in Thy manifestation.”
Definitely Cathar.
“Hear us, then, O Father Incorruptible, Father Immortal, God of Hidden Beings, sole Light and Life, Alone beyond Vision, only Unspeakable, only Unstainable, sole Primal Being, for before Thee was nothing.”
“Why are you praying?” he asked.
Labelle pointed. “Why aren’t you?”
“Do I need to pray?”
“We all need the God of Light. You particularly could benefit from him.”
Keep the man talking. “Why is that?”
“For your sins against us all.”
“Father Tallard is dead. Is that not enough?”
“Your sins are different from his. Where is Bernat de Foix?”
He decided to tell the truth. “Rome came for him.”
That grabbed the young man’s attention. “Who came?”
“Hector Cardinal Fuentes. The man who traveled with me from Toulouse today.” He thought diverting this man’s anger elsewhere a good idea. “He and some Dominican friars took de Foix last night.”
“Where did they take him?”
“I do not know.”
“You’re a liar,” Labelle yelled.
Stay calm. “I truly don’t know.”
Labelle began pacing back and forth in short steps, head down, muttering to himself.
“It was out of my hands,” Vilamur said. “You need to be confronting them. Not me.”
Labelle stopped pacing and pointed at him. “You’re from the Church of Wolves, just as that cardinal is. A church that allows its priests to molest children. Its priests to sleep with married women. The last thing you wanted was for Tallard to be prosecuted or for de Foix to be heard. Both would only have brought attention to you. A disgusting adulterous bishop.”