'Some think so. Dad did.'
'Another name for Christ.'
'That's right.'
'Why did Sauniere turn the pillar upside down?'
'No one has come up with a good reason.'
Mark stepped away from the garden display and allowed others to surge forward for pictures. He then led the way toward the rear of the church, into one corner of the Calvary garden where a small grotto stood.
'This is a replica, too. For the tourists. World War Two took the original. Sauniere built it with rocks he would bring back from his forays. He and his mistress would travel off for days at a time and return with a hod full of stones. Odd, wouldn't you say?'
'Depends on what else was in that hod.'
Mark smiled. 'Easy way to bring back a little gold without arousing suspicion.'
'But Sauniere seems a strange sort. He could have just been toting rocks.'
'Everybody who comes here is a little strange.'
'That include your father?'
Mark appraised him with a serious countenance. 'No question. He was obsessed. He gave his life to this place, loved every square foot of this village. This was his home, in every way.'
'But not yours?'
'I tried to carry on. But I didn't have his passion. Maybe I realized the whole thing was futile.'
'Then why hide yourself away in an abbey for five years?'
'I needed the solitude. It was good for me. But the master had bigger plans. So here I am. A fugitive from the Templars.'
'So what were you doing in the mountains when that avalanche came?'
Mark did not answer him.
'You were doing the same thing your mother's doing here now. Trying to atone for something. You just didn't know folks were watching.'
'Thank heaven they did.'
'Your mother is hurting.'
'You and she worked together?'
He noticed the dodge. 'For a long time. She's my friend.'
'That's a tough nut to crack.'
'Tell me about it, but it can be done. She's hurting bad. Lots of guilt and regrets. This could be a second chance for her and you.'
'My mother and I parted ways long ago. It was best for both of us.'
'Then what are you doing here?'
'I came to my father's house.'
'And when you arrived you saw that somebody else's bags were there. Both our passports were left with our stuff. Surely you found them? Yet you stayed.'
Mark turned away and Malone thought it an effort to hide a growing confusion. He was more like his mother than he cared to admit.
'I'm thirty-eight years old and still feel like a boy,' Mark said. 'I've lived the past five years within the sheltered cocoon of an abbey governed by strict Rule. A man I considered a father was kind to me, and I rose to a level of importance I've never known before.'
'Yet here you are. Right in the middle of God-knows-what.'
Mark smiled.
'You and your mother need to settle things.'
The younger man stood somber, preoccupied. 'The woman you mentioned last night, Cassiopeia Vitt. I know of her. She and my father sparred for several years. Should she not be found?'
He noticed that Mark liked to avoid answering questions by asking them, much like his mother. 'Depends. She a threat?'
'Hard to say. She seemed to always be around, and Dad didn't like her.'
'Neither does de Roquefort.'
'I'm sure.'
'In the archives, last night, she never identified herself and de Roquefort didn't know her name. So if he has Claridon, then he now knows who she is.'
'Isn't that her problem?' Mark asked.
'She saved my hide twice. So she needs to be warned. Claridon told me she lives nearby, in Givors. Your mother and I were leaving here today. We thought this quest over. But that's changed. I need to pay Cassiopeia Vitt a visit. I think alone would be best, for now.'
'That's fine. We'll wait here. Right now I have a visit of my own to make. It's been five years since I paid respects to my father.'
And Mark walked off toward the cemetery's entrance.
FORTY
11:05 AM
STEPHANIE POURED HERSELF A CUP OF HOT COFFEE AND OFFERED more to Geoffrey, but the younger man refused.
'We're allowed but one cup a day,' he made clear.
She sat at the kitchen table. 'Is your entire life governed by Rule?'
'It's our way.'
'I thought secrecy was important to the brotherhood, too. Why do you speak of it so openly?'
'My master, who now resides with the Lord, told me to be honest with you.'
She was perplexed. 'How did your master know me?'
'He followed your husband's research closely. That was long before my time at the abbey, but the master told me of it. He and your husband spoke on several occasions. The master was your husband's confessor.'
The information shocked her. 'Lars made contact with the Templars?'
'Actually, the Templars contacted him. My master approached your husband, but if your husband knew that he was of the Templars, he never revealed it. Perhaps he thought saying it might end the contact. But surely he knew.'
'Your master sounds like a curious man.'
The younger man's face brightened. 'He was a wise man who tried to do good for our Order.'
She recalled his defense of Mark hours earlier. 'Did my son help with that endeavor?'
'That's why he was chosen seneschal.'
'And the fact that he was Lars Nelle's son had nothing to do with that choice?'
'On that, madame, I cannot speak. I only learned who the seneschal was a few hours ago. Here, in this house. So I don't know.'
'You know nothing of each other?'
'Very little, and some of us struggle with that. Others revel in the privacy. But we spend our lives together, close as in a prison. Too much familiarity could become a problem. So we're barred by Rule from any intimacy with our fellows. We keep to ourselves, our silence enforced through the service of God.'
'Sounds difficult.'
'It's the life we choose. This adventure, though.' He shook his head. 'My master told me I'd discover many new things. He was right.'
She sipped more coffee. 'Your master was sure that you and I would meet?'
'He sent the journal hoping you'd come. He also sent a letter to Ernst Scoville, which included pages from the
