[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.He s concentrating very hard, his face solemn anddevout, his voice clear and strong.194 A peste, fame et bello. Libera nos, Domine. A morte perpetua. Libera nos, Domine.Boom!A distant noise.The floor shakes.What is it? Everyoneexchanges looks; some of the canons begin to mutter. What was that? God help us! The walls! Per mysterium sanctae incarnationis tuae, the Archdeaconcontinues, firmly.He s glaring at some of the louder canons,but they ignore him; they re too busy asking questions.It sLord Roland who chants the response, his tranquil voicerising over the squeaks and whispers. Libera nos, Domine, he sings, and the Archdeaconsmiles at him gratefully. Per adventum tuum. Libera nos, Domine.Boom! Another violent noise, like a clap of thunder.What is it? Is it the wall? Make haste, O God, to deliver me;make haste to help me, O Lord.A babble of voices fills thechurch: high, fearful voices.But the Archdeacon doesn tlook scared.He looks pensive.He glances at Lord Roland,whose face is completely expressionless.Somewhere in the crowd, a woman shrieks.Oh God.Oh God, what s happening? It s like a signal like an alarm.There s a roar of voices.Some of the canonsfall to their knees.The Archdeacon scowls, and movesforward: he descends the three steps from the high altar,passes through the choir, and reaches the stairs to the nave.195Below him stretches a sea of milling heads. Silence! he bawls. You are in a house of God! Be silentat once! She s a heretic! somebody cries. She shouldn t even bein here! That s not true! (A female voice.) I m a goodCatholic! We should throw her to the crusaders! We shouldthrow them all to the crusaders! If it wasn t for them, we dbe safe! Silence! The Archdeacon stamps his foot. Let go ofthat woman! Let go of her!Woman? What woman? Oh I see.There, beside thatpillar: someone s got her by the hair.She s fat and flushedand sweaty, and her veil s come off. The Archdeacon turns.Behind him the deacons andacolytes are gathering, too scared (and too curious) to remainby the altar.Some hold candles; one is clutching a hand-bell.The Archdeacon snatches it from him, and rings it as loudlyas he can. Quiet! he bellows. Be quiet!People falter.The din subsides.Even the canons stoptalking.And the bell is muffled, as the Archdeacon seizes itsclapper. Brothers and sisters! What madness is this? heexclaims. We are allies, united against a common enemy!We shouldn t be fighting among ourselves!Angry muttering from somewhere to the left.A man svoice says: Our enemies are the enemies of God.The Catharsare our enemies, not the crusaders.196 Oh really? the Archdeacon sneers. Perhaps the goodCatholics of Béziers should have pointed that out, beforethey were slaughtered like dogs in their own cathedral. Helifts a hand, and points. Your enemy is outside the walls, myfriends.Your enemy will make no distinction between you.To them you are all sheep to be shorn, whether or notyou are fellow believers.He takes a deep breath, and raises his voice. Myfriends, he continues, there is an old, old saying: Onlywhen brothers fall out is the sword driven home. Dissensionwill always lead to defeat.It is a sign of weakness.Themightiest of Nature s creatures, the wolves and the lions,turn their ferocity only against beasts of other kinds.Myfriends, would you sin against your fellow citizens? SaintAugustine himself has told us that war between allies is a great crime.The Preacher has told us: Woe to him that isalone when he falleth, for he hath not another to help himup. Be wise, and stand united.I wish I could see his face.Once again, I m in the worstpossible position: all I can see is the back of his head, andthe heels of his shoes, and Christ the Universal Creatorhanging from his shoulders.I wonder what he s thinking?I wonder if he s afraid? He looks very lonely, standingout there in front of that huge crowd.But the crowd has fallen silent.The crowd has yielded,drinking down the honey of his rhetoric
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]