by John Lyman
“What are your plans?” John asked.
“There are only two options. Stay and fight ... and probably lose, or run and live to fight another day. Personally, I think the second option makes the most sense. I’m glad you came, because I was planning on calling you two up to the house tonight anyway. I’ve spoken to most of the others living on the compound. Half of them want to stay, but the other half want to go.”
Lev rose from his poolside chair and lit his cigar with a match before walking over to the bar. “I’ve ordered the crew to make the Carmela ready for sea. We took a little vote this afternoon while you two were out on the beach. Daniel and Sarah want to remain here with some of the older, more established families, while most of the students and younger families want to come with us on the Carmela. We’re leaving tonight for the Caribbean.”
“Tonight!” John couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You mean just abandon the villa ... the entire compound?”
“It’s only land, John ... land that will most likely have Russian and Iranian tanks rolling over the dunes after the first wave of missiles hit Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. Even Danny Zamir agrees with me. The entire world sees us as a sore spot ... one they want to wash their hands of. Even our allies will be unable to come to our aid, because they too are being absorbed into this so-called one world government. They don’t know it yet, but they’ll soon be asked to join a single worldwide religion in the interest of peace ... a religion formed by none other than Adrian Acerbi himself.”
“But this is your land, Lev. It’s taken you years of your life and millions of dollars to create this little piece of paradise. You can’t just abandon it and run off to the Caribbean.”
“Israel will still be here, John. We’ll return one day.”
“Don’t look now, Lev,” John said, grinning as he looked over the Professor’s shoulder, “but we have company.”
Turning around, Lev saw Anthony Morelli and Francois Leander walking around the side of the villa.
“Morelli ... Francois!” Lev reached out with his arms spread in welcome. “What are you two doing here?”
“We heard the seafood was good,” Morelli grinned as the three men embraced. “It’s good to see you, Professor.”
“How did you two get here?”
“Francois has a pilot friend who makes his living flying cargo jets. No airport hassles or passport checks. We did have to go through customs here in Israel, but when Francois showed them his Swiss Guard ID and told them he didn’t want Acerbi’s people to know we were in Israel they just smiled and cut us loose.”
“They’re not real fond of Acerbi here in Israel,” Lev said. “You don’t know how good it is to have you two here. We were just discussing our options, and from the looks on your faces I take it this isn’t a social visit.”
Morelli glanced over at Francois. “Actually, we thought we might find Leo here.”
“What!” Ariella gasped.
Morelli held up his hands. “Our friend the cardinal has nine lives. He’s quite alive, and we have the pictures to prove it.”
Lev collapsed back onto his seat and ran his hands through his tangled mop of curly gray hair. “Leo’s alive?”
“He never got on that plane,” Morelli said. “We’re pretty sure Acerbi was behind the crash, and we have a feeling Leo is running for his life. We thought maybe he came here.”
“I wish he had.” Lev took in a deep breath. “He must still be back in America.”
Francois walked behind the bar and helped himself to an Israeli beer. “Wherever he is, we need to get to him before Acerbi’s people find him. It’s no coincidence that Pope Michael died suspiciously on the morning of Adrian’s grand speech to the UN, and that Adrian called Leo backstage for a little one-on-one meeting before he addressed the assembly. We think he probably tried to get Leo to cooperate, and when Leo refused Acerbi gave the order to take him out. Thank God Leo missed his plane.”
“I think I’ll join you in a drink.” Lev moved behind the bar next to Francois and set a row of wine glasses on the counter before filling them from a bottle of Spanish sherry.
“I think I’ll have one of those too,” John said. The men looked back and saw that both John and Ariella had tears streaming down their faces.
“Looks like you both could use a drink,” Lev said, placing his arm around his daughter.
“I can’t believe it!” John said. “Leo’s really alive. “You say you have pictures taken of Leo after the crash?”
Francois reached into his coat pocket and handed a couple of digital photos to Lev. “These were taken in the airport departure lounge after the crash and before Leo ditched his cell phone. Acerbi is trying to cut off the heads-of-state of any nation that doesn’t go along with his plan. Evidently the American president was trying to stall him, and we just heard on the radio that he suffered a heart attack this morning. It sounds like he’ll survive, but apparently the vice president is now in charge and is playing ball with Acerbi’s transition team.”
“What are your plans now, Bishop,” Lev asked. “Will you two be returning to Rome?”
Morelli let the wine roll over his tongue before he answered. “No, I’m afraid our tenure there is up. You might say we’re free agents right now. Most of the members of the College of Cardinals have already resigned, and since Cardinal Acone is stacking the deck with new cardinals, it’s a pretty good bet that he’ll be the next pope. Cardinal McCulley has already returned to New York to work behind the scenes to keep the Church there functioning, and no one knows where the camerlengo has gone. Rumor has it he’s in hiding somewhere in Assisi praying for a miracle and trying to stir up the Franciscans.”
“I’m afraid we’re running out of miracles, Bishop,” Lev responded, downing his wine as he snuffed out his cigar. “We’re leaving on the Carmela tonight, and you’re coming with us.”
“Leaving Israel?”
“It’s the smart move for now, Anthony. I was just explaining to John ...
“Daddy?” Ariella’s eyebrows arched with a look of sudden realization. “I think I might know where Leo is.”
The four men stared.
“I mean, just think about it for a moment. Where is Leo’s most favorite place in the world ... a place that’s isolated and far from prying eyes?” Ariella shrugged her shoulders in exasperation. “He’s in France ... in the cabins in the Pyrenees.”
“I’ve already thought of that,” Lev said, “but there’s just one problem. He can’t use his passport, so how would he get to France from America?”
“I don’t know, Daddy, but I do know that once Cardinal Leo puts his mind to it he usually gets what he wants.”
“Maybe he went to Pennsylvania,” Morelli chimed in. “He still has family there.”
“That’s the first place Acerbi’s people would look,” John shot back. “He wouldn’t put his family in danger like that. Ariella’s right. I know Leo, and so do you, Bishop. He always seeks solitude when he needs to think. He’s got to be there!”
Lev studied his daughter’s eyes. “You could be right, but it’s a long shot.”
Ariella’s expression never wavered. “It’s a long shot worth taking.”
“What do you two think?” Lev asked, looking across the bar at Morelli and Francois.
“Like your daughter said, it’s a long shot worth taking.” Francois said.
Watching Lev stare out over the vineyards next to the villa, everyone knew a decision was in the making. “OK then,” he said suddenly, “forget the Caribbean. We’re going to Spain.”
Francois set his glass on the bar. “You mean France, don’t you Lev?”
“No, I mean Spain. We’re going to El Port De La Selva, the same harbor we dropped anchor in last year. It’s closer to the cabins than any harbor in France. I don’t know why I didn’t think about that area sooner. It’s a much better area for us to hide out in. Come on, we need to get moving. I’ll send word to Danny Zamir so he’ll know where to find us.
CHAPTER 57
Walking beneath the massive squared doorway, Leo gazed over his head at the intricately carved stonework that framed the main entrance to the castle. Inside, people dressed in vibrant colors made from homespun cloth scurried back and forth with the urgency of industry. Whether it was a workman carrying tools or a child following along behind their mother with a basket full of laundry, everyone seemed to be living with a purpose and barely took notice of the new arrivals.
“Who are all of these people?” Leo asked, following along behind Evita as they climbed a wide set of stone stairs that led to the floor above.
“Cathars,” she replied. “Except for you, everyone here is a Cathar. For years Julian kept an extensive list of every Cathar living in this part of the world. When he saw the computers being taken over he saw the handwriting on the wall and began gathering up those who wanted to come so he could move us all here out of harm’s way.”
“And Julian is?”
“Our leader. He sits at the head of the twelve Perfecti who guide our faith. In Catholic terms, I guess you could say he’s kind of like our pope.”
“I never heard you mention him before,” Leo said, running his hand along the carved stone banister as they continued to climb toward the second floor landing.
“I met him after I left Turkey. You might say I’m a wayward Cathar, Leo. I haven’t stayed connected with my faith the way I should have. We’ve always been a loose-knit community with ties to the past, and like most Cathars I was born into my faith. I received my spiritual education from my grandmother, and after she died I kind of drifted away until I began working with Mendoza and Diaz who began introducing me to other Cathars. I discovered it was a very secretive world. We don’t have churches in the traditional sense, so most of the time we would just meet for dinner and sit around talking. It was kind of nice to know that I was part of something bigger than myself and that I could count on them for help if I needed it.”
“And this Julian fellow just turned up at your apartment one day and told you to come here?”
“Actually he showed up at my office. To tell you the truth, I was a little frightened when I first met him, but after I got to know him I really liked him. He’s not the pushy type, and he seemed to know a lot about what was coming. He gave me a map telling me where to go if things really got bad, and when Javier and I left Madrid and crossed the mountains, Albert found us in the valley below and brought us here.”
“That Albert really seems to gets around.”
“He’s a great guy, Leo. He used to teach philosophy at Cambridge. That’s where he and Julian met. You might say he’s in charge of finding people.”
“I liked him from the moment we first met,” Leo said. “I could tell right away that there was a powerful mind lurking behind that smiling facade. I still wonder about the so-called coincidence of him driving by just after I landed.”
“He wanted to see who was landing a private jet out at the old airstrip. He thought it might be some of Acerbi’s people. Finding you by the side of the road really was a coincidence, but he would have run across you eventually because I asked him to check on the cabins every few days. I don’t know why, but I just had a feeling. When he told me that you were alive, they had to physically restrain me from taking one of the cars and racing up to the cabins. I was afraid you would leave before I got there.”
Leo reached out and took her by the hand as they topped the stairs and headed down a long corridor to a nondescript wooden door in the east wing of the castle. After knocking only once, the door opened to reveal a smiling Julian Wehling.
“I think I’ll let you two get acquainted,” Evita said, winking at the two men. “I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour, Leo.”
Feeling lost in a strange land, Leo hesitated at the doorway as he watched her walk away.
“Please, Cardinal,” Julian opened the door wider. “Won’t you come in?”
Still feeling hesitant, Leo stepped into the room as Julian closed the door behind them. Right away he was struck by the elegant simplicity of the space. To his left, cream-colored pillars supported a row of arches that served to separate the interior of the room from an outdoor terrace that ran the entire length of the eastern wall of the castle, and a cool breeze pushed thin, floor-to-ceiling curtains against a small wooden desk surrounded by stacks of books on the floor next to the dripping remains of candles. Obviously electricity wasn’t a part of this mountaintop world.
In the center of the space, a large, unmade canopy bed sat draped in blue fabric, and to his right, next to a plain stone fireplace, he saw a blue and gold shield hanging above a carved wooden case that held several bows and a leather quiver stuffed with multi-colored arrows. Suffice it to say the room had a definite medieval feel to it.
“Welcome to our little community, Cardinal.” Wehling extended his hand. “My name is Julian Wehling.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wehling. It looks like you’ve created quite a community up here.”
“We like it, and we hope you do too. Why don’t we go out onto the terrace and have some tea ... or would you prefer coffee?”
“Coffee would be great.” Leo studied the intricate carving on the stone pillars as they walked out onto a long terrace that overlooked the manicured grounds. “This is one of the most beautiful medieval castles I’ve ever seen ... and one of the best preserved.”
Wehling smiled as he poured Leo’s coffee from a simple clay pot. “Actually, Cardinal, this castle is only fifty years old.”
Leo’s stunned expression revealed his surprise. “Fifty years! You’ve got to be kidding. I mean ... the stonework ... the carving. I didn’t think people did this kind of work anymore.”
“The Cathar masons who built this place took great pride in their work.”
“So it was Cathars who built this castle and the complex surrounding it?”
“Yes, Cardinal.” Julian threw on a dark blue windbreaker and donned his Scottish tweed rain hat. “Why don’t you bring your coffee and I’ll take you on a little tour.”
“I’d like that, and please, call me Leo. I’m not sure the title cardinal even applies to me anymore.”
Julian’s gray eyes bored in on him. “What makes you say that?”
“Let’s just say that the Church is now in the hands of those who no longer have need of my services.”
“You may not be in Rome, Leo, but you’ll always be a cardinal. Those who inhabit the Holy City now can never take that away from you.”
Leo smiled back at Julian as the two men descended the stairs in silence before walking out onto the towering granite wall that surrounded the complex.
“We were deeply grieved when we learned of Pope Michael’s death,” Julian said. “He was truly a man of the people, unlike the one who now pretends to come to their aid.”
“Then you believe Adrian Acerbi is the Antichrist?”
“There’s no doubt in my mind. We’ve also been studying the signs. The recent movement of the dark star was especially revealing, as was Adrian’s sudden rise to power. It’s an old trick, actually ... used since Roman times. When Octavian took on the role of Tribune following the death of Caesar, he became the iconic defender ... the protector and champion of the interests of the people. It’s a strategy that’s been shared by dictators down through history. He stealthily jumped over the heads of the political elite and aligned himself directly with the hearts and minds of the people. Backed by the army, he completed his transition by changing his name to Augustus and became the first true emperor of the Roman Empire. Apparently Adrian has studied his history well.”
The two men stopped and looked out over the blue haze covering the valley floor five thousand feet below. From their position atop the thick walls, they could see mountain tops that lay almost a hundred miles away. It was a magnificent sight that matched the surreal vision of the castle behind them.
Sipping his coffee, Leo turned his back to the view and looked back insid
e the walled complex. “Are you the force behind the creation of this place, Julian?”
“Let’s just say I inherited it. Much like your pope, I was elected to my current position as the leader of my faith. Although I am their leader there are eleven other Perfecti scattered about the world, and they’re in charge of their own little enclaves of safety that have been built over the years. But I’m especially proud of this one.”
“I can see why. You’re sitting at the top of the world, so to speak. Does this place have a name?”
“Yes. We call it the Village of the Sun. Some wanted to name it Montségur II ... an historical reference to the last Cathar castle that surrendered in 1244. But after what happened to the Cathars who surrendered back in the 13th century we decided to give this place a new name.”
“From what I could tell on our drive here we must be very close to Montségur.”
“Yes ... very. It’s one of the reasons my predecessor chose this location, not to mention the inaccessibility provided by the sheer cliffs and the extensive network of natural caves that honeycomb the area below us.”
“I once offered a course on the Crusade against the Cathars to my college history class,” Leo said. “The subject of your faith has always fascinated me and I learned quite a bit doing research for the course, but unfortunately we had to cancel the project for lack of interest.”
“Then I guess we’re kindred spirits, Leo. I was a professor of Medieval European history at Cambridge. I’ve also been forced to cancel my share of courses due to the lack of interest shown by some of my students. It’s a shame, really, especially when you consider the fact that those who refuse to study the past are doomed to repeat history’s mistakes.”
Leo turned back to look down on the valley below. “I seem to remember something about the peaceful meadow that sat below Montségur. What was it called?”
Julian’s expression darkened. “They call it the field of the burned, Cardinal. It’s a reference to the 205 Cathars who were burned alive there after they surrendered. Below the ruins of the old castle, there’s a marker in the field to remind us of what happened to them ... another reason to study history.”