'He's right,' Malone said. 'Bigou could have built in a safeguard so that just solving the sequence would not be enough.'
Stephanie looked puzzled. 'I wouldn't say this has been easy.'
'Only because the pieces are so scattered, some lost forever,' Malone said. 'But in Bigou's time, everything existed, and he erected the tombstone for all to see.'
'But Bigou hedged his bet,' Mark said. 'The marshal's report specifically notes that Gelis found a cryptogram identical to Sauniere's in his church. During the eighteenth century Bigou served that church, as well as Rennes, so he hid a marker in each.'
'Hoping that a person of curiosity would find one of them,' Henrik said. 'Which is precisely what happened.'
'Gelis actually solved the puzzle,' Mark said. 'We know that. He told the marshal. He also said he was suspicious of Sauniere. Then a few days later he was murdered.'
'By Sauniere?' Stephanie asked.
Mark shrugged. 'No one knows. I always thought the marshal might be suspect. He disappeared from the abbey within weeks of Gelis's murder and specifically didn't note in his report the solution to the cryptogram.'
Malone pointed to the pad. 'Now we have it. But we need to find out what lagustous is.'
'It's an anagram,' Cassiopeia said.
Mark nodded. 'Just like on the gravestone where Bigou used Et in arcadia ego as an anagram for I tego arcana dei. He could have done the same thing here.'
Cassiopeia was studying the pad and her gaze beamed with recognition.
'You know, don't you?' Malone asked.
'I think I do.'
They all waited.
'In the tenth century a wealthy baron named Hildemar came to know a man named Agulous. Hildemar's relatives resented Agulous's influence over him, and, in direct opposition to his family, Hildemar turned over all his lands to Agulous, who converted his castle into an abbey that Hildemar himself joined. While kneeling in prayer inside the abbey's chapel, Agulous and Hildemar were slain by Saracens. Both were eventually made Catholic saints. There's a town there still. About ninety miles from here. St. Agulous.' She reached for the pen and converted lagustous into St. Agulous.
'There were Templar sites there,' Mark said. 'A large commandery, but it's gone.'
'That castle, which became an abbey, is still there,' Cassiopeia made clear.
'We need to go,' Henrik said.
'That could be a problem.' And Malone cut a glance to Cassiopeia. They'd not told the others about the men outside, so he did now.
'De Roquefort will act,' Mark said. 'Our hostess, here, allowed him to have Dad's journal. Once he learns the thing is worthless, his attitude will change.'
'We need to leave here unnoticed,' Malone said.
'There's a lot of us,' Henrik said. 'Such an exit would be a challenge.'
Cassiopeia smiled. 'I like challenges.'
FIFTY-FIVE
7:30 AM
DE ROQUEFORT THREADED HIS WAY THROUGH THE FOREST OF tall pines, the ground beneath him silvered with white heather. A honey scent hung in the morning air. The rocky clefts of red limestone surrounding him were shrouded by a wispy fog. An eagle soared in and out of the haze, on the prowl for breakfast. He'd eaten his with the brothers, the meal taken in the traditional silence as Scripture was read to them.
He had to give Claridon credit. He'd deciphered the cryptogram with the seven, nine combination and unlocked the secret. Unfortunately, the message was useless. Claridon told him that Lars Nelle had found a cryptogram within an unpublished manuscript by Noel Corbu, the man who'd promulgated much of the fiction about Rennes in the mid-twentieth century. But had Nelle changed the puzzle or had Sauniere? Was the frustrating solution what drove Lars Nelle to suicide? All that effort and when he finally deciphered what Sauniere left, he was told nothing. Was that what Nelle meant when he'd declared There's absolutely nothing to find?
Hard to know.
But he was damn well going to find out.
A horn blared in the distance from the direction of the castle. The workday was probably about to begin. Ahead, he spied one of his sentries. He'd communicated with the man by cell phone on the trip north from the abbey and learned that all was quiet. Through the trees he caught sight of the chateau, a couple of hundred meters away, bathed in a filtered morning glow.
He approached the brother who reported that an hour ago a group of eleven men and women had arrived on foot from the construction site. All period-dressed. They'd been inside ever since. The second sentinel had reported that the rear of the building remained quiet. No one had entered or left. Plenty of inside movement came two hours ago-lights on in rooms, servant activity. Cassiopeia Vitt herself emerged at one point and walked to the stables, then back.
'There also was activity around one AM, ' the brother said to him. 'Bedroom lights came on, then a downstairs room was lit. About an hour later the lights went off. Seems they all woke up for a while, then went back to sleep.'
Perhaps their night had been as revealing as his own. 'But no one left the house?'
The man shook his head.
He reached for the radio in his pocket and communicated with the team leader for the ten knights he'd brought with him. They'd parked their vehicles half a mile away and were hiking through the forest toward the chateau. He'd ordered that they quietly ring the building, then await his instruction. He was now informed that all ten were in place. Counting the two already here and himself, thirteen armed men-more than enough to accomplish the task.
Ironic, he thought. The brothers were once again at war with a Saracen. Seven hundred years ago, Muslims defeated the Christians and retook the Holy Land. Now another Muslim, Cassiopeia Vitt, had involved herself in Order business.
'Master.'
His attention was diverted to the chateau and the front entrance, where people were exiting, all dressed in the colorful peasant garb of the Middle Ages. The men in plain brown cottes with cords tied about their waists, legs sheathed in dark hose, feet covered by thin shoes. A few sported cockers tied about their ankles. The women wore long gray gowns and heuks tied around their hips with apron strings. Straw hats, broad-brimmed caps, headrails, and hoods covered the heads. Yesterday, he'd noticed how all of the workers at the Givors site wore authentic clothing, part of the anachronistic atmosphere the place was surely designed to evoke. A couple of the workers started jostling with one another in good humor as the group turned and slowly headed for the lane leading back to the castle site.
'Perhaps some sort of meeting,' the brother standing next to him said. 'They came and are returning to the construction site.'
He agreed. Cassiopeia Vitt personally oversaw the Givors project, so it was reasonable to assume workers would meet with her.
'How many went in?'
'Eleven.'
He counted. The same had exited. Fine. Time to act. He raised the radio to his lips and said, 'Move in.'
'What are our orders?' the voice on the other end of the radio asked.
He was tired of toying with his opponent.
'Do what is necessary to contain them until I get inside.'
