The Quest

By Todd LeRoux

Roderique loved growing up on his father's farm; he would dream of far-off lands like most young men. Roderique's older brother Louis was a Catholic priest, making their Mother so proud. Roderique knew that his brother wanted him gone so he could inherit the farm and land. As brothers, they never got along. Louis was always jealous and would go out of his way to cause trouble for his younger brother. Roderique knew what his brother was like and never trusted Louis. So when Louis came to him about going out into the world looking for treasure the Church had lost or stolen, Roderique was skeptical about the offer. Louis was desperate for his brother to leave, and Roderique knew he would take the offer. The year was 1475 when Roderique, with his old mare, left his father's farm. France was a dangerous land then, and Roderique knew he would have to be careful on this quest. Following clues left in the ruins of the Barberie Cathedral, Roderique finds his way to a dark fortress on top of Mount Bezu. Breaking into the fortress, Roderique makes his camp, knowing he will be in the fortress for days so he can find all he was sent on the quest for. Rene had spent so many centuries waiting for the legend of the young man to come true; when he first heard a horse, Rene thought he was going mad; then he wondered if a spirit could go mad. Rene befriended Roderique, he watched as the young man picked up the golden cross. Rene and his brothers wept as the spike from the cross punctured Roderique's flesh. They knew the pain it would cause. The brothers of the knights of Sionis knew they had a new brother. Their new brother would live for over five hundred years to keep the treasure safe. When Roderique woke up on the third day, he knew the real Quest had started.     

• Language: English
• Publisher: Todd LeRoux
• Release date: Feb 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9781738317523

Todd LeRoux

Todd lives on the banks of the Miramichi river. After years of working away, he now enjoys his time at home with family and friends.

Book preview

The Quest

A Novel By

Todd LeRoux 

Chapter 1

WHY WAS I CHOSEN FOR this quest? This question was something I thought about ever since the day I walked my horse out of the gates of Gisors, at the time a small town in the north of France. Though I have had time to think, truth be told, I've had many years to think about that faithful day I was offered this quest. It was not until presently I have come to this realization. The quest I have been on these many, many years is what my life was meant for. It is not a life for most; when I started this quest, I did not know I had been sent out into the world so another could stand in my place. I was told of this many years later. This I have forgiven. If you want to become what is needed in this world, then this is yours to read; if not, that too is your choice.

THE BEGINNING.

The year was 1475; in that year, I was seventeen; I was little more than a farm boy, big for my age and strong. Hard work will do this for you; though many people try to hide from hard work, I was never one to hide from anything, whether good or bad. My father told me hard work had its own rewards, and as usual, he was right. I loved my country life and thought it might have been easier to come from a wealthy family. I like to think I would have turned out to be the same person I am today. Besides, being rich brings its own problems. If you are of modest means, most people around you are of the same station in life. Most of my days were filled with farm work. It was hard work, work which left you exhausted at the end of the day. It also packed hard, lean muscle on me, and I liked it. Unlike my older brother, who hated hard work, he also loathed getting his hands dirty. I guess that is why he went into the seminary while I spent my days working with my father in the fields, getting dirty. It made my mother so proud to have her eldest son, a priest in the church. My brother would come over every Sunday after the sermon for the Sunday dinner our mother would prepare for the family. One day he told me I had to call him father. We never spoke for a year when I told him I had one father and he could go to hell. As it always had been when we grew up, he ran to mother and told her what I had said. The whole family became involved for a time. It seemed I would be thrown out of the house when my real father stood and raised his voice.

You go to a school, then stand in my house trying to usurp my authority. Then my boy, the door is where you entered. You can leave unless you apologize to your brother and the rest of the family. You are not welcome under my roof. I was looking at my father when I realized he was not talking to me but to my brother. Standing there looking at my father, waiting for him to show me the door, my brother realized he had made a mistake. My mother wept in front of the fire, my father raised his hand and pointed to the door, and my brother left that day and soon after apologized for his actions. He told my mother and father, as well as my grandfather, how sorry he was, and all was forgiven.

Though he never apologized to me, I told him I would never accept it if he did. I almost laughed at the look on his face when I told him I would slap him if he tried. Like I had said, I liked to work. The harder the work, the better I seemed to like it; it seemed to be making me a hard man. When the work was not enough in the winter, I turned to helping men of another sort, not bad men, well, not bad men, really. For the most part, they wanted me to stand there and say nothing or take a package from one house to another, and the pay was good. My brother had found the way of the lord, while I, to the chagrin of my mother and father, found another. The path I chose did not bother my father nearly as much as it did my mother. Not that the way I chose would see me in the King's chains. Though it could get me a whipping from the local landlord. I found the drink and liked it, though I would not go so far as to say I needed it daily. I have known men and some women who needed the wine to start their day and end their days. I watched these people wither and grow old before their time. They reminded me of grapes forgotten on the vine when the frost came. I still had my brother to contend with at the supper my mother held on Sunday evenings. He would make it a point to tell me I was wasting my life and labour. Louis thought I should labour for the church and god. Every time I brought up the subject of fair compensation, he would change the subject so fast it was a wonder he did not get a cramp in his tongue. My father would laugh when my brother would change the subject when the talk of money started. This went on for almost two months, then one night after the supper had been eaten, the dishes cleaned and placed back on the shelves until the next week, Louis came to me. I was wary of my brother; every time he wanted something from me, he would be nice. I know this might sound mean and hard-hearted on my part; however, I don't think I was wrong. I watched as my brother thought of a way to begin what he wanted to say.

I know we have not been getting along like brothers should, and I think part of the blame lies with me, Louis said, holding his hands behind his back and a touch of a smile on his lips.

I have just come back from Paris, where I was charged with a most important task. When given this task, I thought of my brother. Louis said, then waited for me to thank him, when I stood staring at him, not saying a word, he cleared his throat and went on.

The Arch Bishop, with the consent of the Cardinal, has given me the task of finding a young man. This young man is wanted to go out on a quest for the church. Now I can tell you this quest will take some time, and it will take you far from home when you come back if successful. You will be a hero, as well the bishop tells me all your past sins will be forgiven by the church. I stood looking at my brother and his smug smile. I wondered if the church would forgive me if I beat the smugness out of him.

I can give you some time to think it over if you wish, Louis said with a smug smile still on his lips. I had made up my mind; I knew staying here would lead to a life of never seeing the rest of the world, and going on a quest did sound exciting. I just wish the church had sent someone else. I thought of a way to take some of the smugness out of him.

Well, begging the Bishops pardon, if you want me to go out into the world and find something. I will need to know what the hell I'm looking for. I said and watched the smile fall off my brothers' lips.

I can't tell you what you will find because you will be looking for everything of value belonging to the holy church, Louis told me. He never looked me in the eyes as he said this.

I won't do it for the church; I will do it for the quest instead. Will you be coming, brother? I still called him brother because it made him mad; he wanted me to call him father. It really put him off when I pointed out to him that he was not my father.

I'm in the care of your everlasting life, your soul, and the church says that make me your spiritual father. He reminded me with his best smile.

Ha, you could care less about my soul, or the church could care less. It's about the same thing it's always about, money period, end of story. I told him with a smile.

You want me to go and look for these trinkets? I'll be happy to; I will not be doing it for nothing. Go back and tell your master I get a share of it, nothing too big, but something. I'm not greedy. Though he did not say anything, I could see this was the same deal he had made with the church. I wondered, did he plan on me being wise enough to want something for myself. At the next Sunday supper, my brother was all smiles; I could tell he was sitting on the news of what the bishop said about my offer. When the meal ended, and I stood under the stars, he stepped behind me and told me it had been approved. I was given a place to start, and that was it. I was given no information on what I was to look for, nothing.

By the time your quest is over, you will be in possession of a large treasure! Was all my brother would tell me? I do not think he knew any more than I did at the time? I was given a staple of silver to start with, then Louis told me I would have to earn any more money I would need. Basically, the church gave me some meat and threw me to the wolves. In a letter from the bishop I was given one clue, this one clue said I should go to the ruins of the Chateau Barberie.

It was there the church thought I might find something that would steer me on the right path. So that night, I sat with my mother and father, and I told them I was going out into the world on a mission for the church. My mother asked many questions and wondered how long I was to be gone; I explained all I knew. My father stood and shook my hand, he told me he was proud of me. He also told me this was the best thing for me. My mother wept and hugged me; she told me she would miss her baby boy.

The sun greeted me as I walked my old mare out of the barn. My old horse stood quietly as I packed my meagre belongings onto her. Then with one last look around off, I went, thinking this would be a better way to spend my time and life. I remember thinking if I did not like it, I would send notice to my brother telling him I withdrew my services, and that would be that. I couldn't believe how beautiful the countryside was as I rode through other villages. I reached the town of Nevers and spent my first night on my quest in a small inn run by a stout man and his doting wife. When I told them I was going to the Chateau and I was on a quest for the church, the innkeeper turned white as a sheet, and his wife crossed herself.

Though yours is a noble reason for going to such a terrible place as the château. We beg you to think twice before setting foot in the ruins at Barberie. It is said the father who ran the church lost his mind. He was infested by a demon, causing him to do all manners of ungodly acts. The innkeeper's wife said. I told the couple I would only be there during daylight and I would not be staying any later than mid-afternoon. For the rest of the night, I sat with my back to the fire and kept my own counsel while the other inn patrons would try to steal glances when they thought I was looking the other way. I left the inn before the sun came up the following day. I was not told where I was to look in the ruins. I spent the time I had on the trip from Nevers to the ruins trying to figure out the best place to start looking. I thought the Chateau was nothing but an old church. When I came into view of the ruins I knew I was going to be there longer than one afternoon. Up to that point in my short life, I had never seen anything like the Barberie ruins before.

The innkeeper told me some of what had taken place here in the past. He told me the story of the demons was a wives' tale. What really happened in Barberie was worse by far. About seventy years before the Cardinal burnt the Chateau down.   There had been a civil war in France, not one consisting of the people rising up against a cruel king. No, this war was for religion, the right to worship as one saw fit. The Catholic Church and its followers killed twenty-five thousand Huguenots in France. This kind of religious extermination brought the end of Chateau Barberie. The ruins of the Chateau, although long since destroyed, still held an immense scale. I stood in front of what I thought might be the main entrance and looked at my feet, the entrance of the Chateau now was just a stone arch standing over twenty feet in height. I knelt and brushed at the dirt and vines, trying to cover the marble floor. The first thing I noted was a cross. It had been carved into the floor, and this cross had equal sides which flared out, so each side looked like a triangle. At the bottom of the cross was a dove; standing, I looked at the cross, swept more dirt away with my boot, and found the words. 'Entrez et être accordée le chemin d’accès pour lequel vous recherchez.' Translated it read. 'Enter and be granted the path for which you search.' I looked at the words and wondered if they were for any traveller or one on a quest such as me.

Thinking I would be in the ruins long after the sunset, though I started in the morning and wished to be out of this place before mid-afternoon. I looked for a clue to my next move well past noon. I was about to give up when in frustration, I bowed my head and closed my eyes; I knew I had to slow down. I don't know how long I stood with my head bowed when I opened my eyes, I could see one of the stones making up the floor did not quite fit the pattern of the biblical chapter depicted. It was as if whoever placed this stone tried to hide it in the mosaic tiles of the floor. I wouldn't have seen it if the building had not been destroyed, without the roof and most of the walls to protect the floor. Time and nature did their best to take the rest of the Château. Using my knife, I tried to pry out this one stone. I feared breaking the blade before this one stone came loose. Though with a bit more effort, some more leverage, and some words I will not repeat in this retelling, the stone relented and came loose.

Standing in the falling sun of the evening, I turned the stone over in my hands, looking for the clue I knew had to be on it. I wanted to ride away from the château then and there, then thought twice about riding in the countryside of France in the waning light of the day. The church and the King would tell you France, at that point in history, was a place of law and free of the dangers plaguing England and their roads at the time. I was not about to trust in the nobility and the church, not yet anyway. I made a small camp behind some trees that stood a reasonable distance from the château.

The light of my small fire danced in the trees. I can't say for sure how long I looked the stone over before I felt my eyes closing. Frustrated, I dropped the stone and lay down to sleep. I want to say things became better during the night but that would be a lie. Instead, the clouds opened up, and a cold hard rain started to fall. The rain did not help my foul mood any, to be honest, it made my outlook on the day worse. When the grey of the new day found me, I was gathering up my things. As I walked to my horse to load my things, I stepped on the rock I had worked so hard to retrieve from the floor of the Chateau and almost fell.

Picking the stone up I intended to hurl it as far as I could manage. When something on the rock caught my attention. Something I had not seen the night before caught my eye. Standing there with the rain pattering on my head and shoulders, I stared down at the stone. I could see a pattern starting to form on the flat side when the rain fell on it. When the entire flat side of the stone was wet, the clue was revealed. I read this clue, and for the first time, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Looking at the stone, the clue read.

On the Mount of Bezu, in the fortress of black, the man with a flame for hair waits to help you to what you seek. I hadn't realized as I read the clue I had sat down. I was sitting in the wet dirt of my camp, looking at the stone and the words on it, wondering what I had found. Then I wondered what I had agreed to, fortresses of black, and men with flaming heads this did not sound good. Sitting in the rain soon became tedious. I looked around and decided it would be best for me to get going. Setting out, I walked my horse for the first part of the day. When I found a thick stand of cedar trees, I was ready to give up. I looked at my drenched horse and my belongings, and I decided this would be an excellent place to dry my things. I soon had a fire going and had hung my bed roll up to dry in the branches along with my clothes. Sitting by my fire, I watched as the stone dried and the words upon it disappeared.

Sitting under a cedar tree to keep dry gave me time to think if I would keep going on this quest. Or if it would be wise to start writing the letter to my brother telling him, I withdrew my service. I was going to tell him he could go on the quest for the church if it pleased him. Whether it pleased him or not, I could care less. I spent the rest of the night sitting under the bows of a large cedar tree while my fire hissed and popped as the rain fell. I could hardly believe it when I woke to the sun rising over the branches of the forest I had slept in.

The true beginning

Chapter 2

THE TRIP FROM THE CHÂTEAU Barberie south took the better part of a fortnight. The route I took went through Massif Central in the southeast of France. In that area, I could hunt without worrying about getting caught poaching the kings' fields. I had hunted and used my fires to cook and smoke the meat, and I had taken my time to make sure it was done right. I didn't want to get into any situation where I could run out of food, causing me to stop. On the last day, I found myself standing on the edge of a plateau. I looked out over a valley. I could see the fortress spoken of on the stone from the Château Barberie, and it indeed was a fortress of black.

My poor old horse stood behind me, not wanting to get too close to the edge of the plateau. I knew there had to be a path that would lead to the bottom and across the valley. Finding that path was more difficult than I wanted to admit. It had taken some time before the narrow path revealed itself to my eyes. It seemed to take more time for my horse to let herself be led down it; she was a smart horse, maybe smarter than I. Standing looking over the valley at the black walls and turrets of the fortress. I could see my search of the fortress for anything to lead me to another place would take some time.

Before I left to start my mission, the Bishop thought I should know I would be looking for a treasure. This treasure had been stolen by an outlaw order of monks. The Bishop said the Church charged me, and God almighty himself charged me with the return of what was taken. The Bishop told me to find and return this treasure to him, so he could take it to Rome. I stood still as the Bishop walked around his desk. He told me of the knights of Sionis, the Bishop told me that these men were at one time the trusted warriors of Christ. Then these knights fell from grace, that the knight's allowed satan to gain control over them.

It is these heretics you will be trying to find so you can bring back what they dare to take. The Bishop fumed. 

Knights of Sionis, it was these knights who had stolen a great treasure. In addition, these same knights hid it from the rightful owner, the Holy Church. At the time, the Bishop didn't tell me this order of knights had foreseen the growth of evil men in the Catholic Church. It was for this reason they chose to fight those who lusted for power. The knights of that time fought for the Church and loved what had been started. It was, for them, an act of faith they dedicated their lives to. However, when men of greed came into the Church and used their position for their own gains. At this time, these knights decided to start the Church of Sion. These knights tried to end the corruption in the Holy Roman Church. To fight back, the Church started the Knights Templar, though what the Church thought they started was actually the child of others. We know about the attempt by pope Clement V to wipe out the knights' Templar on October 13, 1307. It was not anything as holy as punishment for defiling the cross, or acts of blasphemy or any of the other crimes the Templars were accused of. No, it was for nothing more than money, truly the root of all evil. The heart knows no end to its greed.

It took some time before I eventually found the path that led from the top of the plateau down to the floor of the valley. Now standing in the valley, I looked west at the mountain called Bezu. Though, one couldn't see it on the top of this mountain from the valley floor. I knew the fortress sat up there like a dark crown, this last bastion of Sion. I would like to say I was not awestruck; that would be a lie. I had no knowledge of this place. Being from the north, it is no wonder all I knew was what I had been told. This was one of the homes of the Knights of Sion.

Though it didn't look like a home, it had more of the look of an army garrison. Just looking at the fortress was enough to bring back the doubts I had earlier. Walking across the valley, I could keep watch to see if anyone was following me. Though I couldn't see any farms, this valley looked as if the straw and grasses had been cut off for feed. I thought of some farmer trying to keep his cows and sheep from starving in the winter if they got any kind of winter down here. To tell the truth, I wasn't looking forward to spending a lot of time on the top of the mountain. A good breeze had been blowing in the valley ever since I started down the path from the top of the plateau. I couldn't say for sure, though I thought the breeze would be a howling wind on top of the mountain where the fortress stood.

Standing at the foot of the mountain where the black fortress stood like a dark unseen crown. I thought about turning back and going home. I knew if I did, my brother would never let me live it down. Worse still, I could never let myself live it down. My grandfather told me once the hardest thing to do was to start; 'once you've started, all you have to do is keep going,' he told me once. So I started, and he was right. Once I started, I found I could keep going.

Finding the path leading to the fortress was more straightforward than it was on the plateau; of course, this wasn't exactly a path. It was wide enough for a large wagon and was paved with interlocking cobblestones. Over the years, seeds had been blown into the cracks between the cobbles, and field grasses grew unchecked. It looked like no one had been over the road in hundreds of years. In some places, trees had pushed their way up through the cracks causing the stones to tilt up and out. As I climbed, more and more moss started to cover the rocks causing the cobblestones to become slippery.

I wasn't too worried about myself; it was my old mare who worried me. She could break a leg if she slipped on the stones, or scared she could thrash around and break one of my legs. Considering where we were, this would mean death. To tell the truth, I didn't want to die. I wanted to see more of the world. When I left home, I had thoughts of seeing fields and deserts. I wanted to see the mountains of the Far East and the girls of those lands, so dying on an unused roadway in the south of France was not what I had planned. I was forced to stop more than once to calm my horse down; she never slipped. However, once in a while, I would see her nostrils flare like she had caught the smell of a bear, and she would stop while her ears twitched. It would take a few minutes, then she would be all right, and we would set off again. I would look around, trying to see what she was worried about, but I couldn't see or smell anything. I was happy when we reached the top of the mount. The stone roadway ended at a flat-level grass field.

Standing in front of the main entrance to the fortress, I was awestruck by the size of the two doors fitted into the enormous archway. On the top of the arch were slots cut into the joints of the wall for archers to fire out of. The front of the fortress had been constructed to withstand a siege. There were spouts below the archers firing ports; what they were used for, I couldn't guess. Looking at the ports,   I didn't want to find out the hard way. I decided to tie my old mare to a ring embedded in the wall; I gave her enough rope to feed on the grass growing along the base of the wall. Walking around the whole of the fort, I could not see any other way of getting in other than the front door.

I would have made quite a site standing in front of the fort, trying to think of how to get in. Finally, I gave up trying to think my way in and put my back on the problem. Looking up at the doors, I realized one opened by pushing in on it, and the other had to be pulled outward to open it. Whoever had thought of this did it so that when the doors were locked together, you would have to push and pull at the same time to get them open. Well, I didn't need both of them open just one would do fine, and I thought the door that swung in would do. I set to work and, after three hours, managed to get the door open. Not the one which opened inward, somehow I managed to get the other open. Looking at the opened door, I told myself there was nothing to be afraid of, and I told my horse the same. I don't think she believed me, and looking back through the years, she was right not to.

It took some time to get her to follow my lead. Still, after some frayed nerves and a halter, she relented and entered the small courtyard. Standing in this small courtyard, I could see nothing of the outside world except the small expanse of the cold blue sky. To me, it felt like that small part of the sky was going to fall and crush this place. I have never been afraid of enclosed areas before. However, in this place, the claustrophobia was almost more than I could stand. I could smell the dampness of the moss growing in the shaded places where the sun of the day didn't reach. The second set of doors stood slightly ajar; it was an invitation I couldn't refuse. I hoped wherever they led was a larger enclosed area than the small courtyard I stood in.

When I tried to open the second set of doors, the hinges cried in protest. Putting my back to the door and pushing with all my strength, the doors relented with what seemed like a cry of pain. These doors were smaller than the outer ones and were made from oak logs. A craftsman had squared the logs and then banded them together with iron bands. The bands were decorated with pitchers from books of the bible. When the door was fully open, I looked around the large courtyard. In the centre of the yard stood a round structure that reminded me of a well. To my left stood a building. I could see where the stables were. I did not want to leave my mare alone, so I forced the other door and brought her into the large yard.

I spent the first day getting set to spend a fortnight in the old fortress.  Clearing a corner of the debris, the winds blew into it over the years. I built a strong shelter from the timber that lay all around the courtyard. I chose this corner because the storms in this region of France come down the valley. Blowing east to the west and this corner gave me the most protection and still allowed me to have a clear sight of the whole courtyard. After I made sure my mare had plenty of wild grass, along with what oats I had left. I decided I would need to gather firewood, and at the same time, I could explore the fortress, hoping I didn't wake any ghosts.   Tying my mare outside, I walked into the stables to clean out one of the stales for her. I was thankful I did not find any horses or what would have been left if the horses had been left to starve. Most of the stables were in good shape. I brought my mare in and laid out her grass and oats. She would need more, though I didn't think her feed would be a problem.

There was more than enough on the outside of the fort. I left my mare and decided to try a smaller door at the end of the stables. This door wasn't locked and gave passage to a long hall. The stone of the fort seemed to weigh in on me. The mortar holding the stones together drank in what little light there was. Turning, I found a large torch still sitting in its heavy sconce mounted on the wall beside where the door stood. Whoever held this torch in the past must have been a giant. I could carry it around using two arms even then. The torch was so heavy my arms felt like they were on fire after a short time. The first of my exploring had not been fruitful; it seemed like coming to this old fort would be a waste of time, but then again, it was a quest, and they have been known to take years. I was young, I remember thinking, let the years come, and let them pass, and be dammed to all those who fear what will be. If only I could have known how close to the truth of my destiny I was when I thought those words.

The hall led to a small room holding a bed and a small table, and that was all. It looked like a room for the stable boy. Returning to the stable, I found my mare happily eating the grass. She lifted her head and blew dust from her nose, then went back to munching on her grass. I was glad to be out in the sunshine; I decided to gather more of the grass growing on either side of the main entrance.     The light breeze I had felt when in the valley did indeed blow as a strong wind high on mount Bezu. I hoped it would not blow any rain to the valley before I could get the rest of my shelter built. I also needed to store firewood where it would be dry.

The sunset was on my first day, and I was ready to spend my first night in the courtyard of the fortress. The wind that blew all day had calmed to a light breeze; it could not be felt inside the walls. I had closed and barred the main door I managed open, though I didn't think anyone would be coming up the old road behind me; I didn't want to take any chances. I started to have a feeling my brother might have sent someone to follow me, though I had no reason to think this. It is not that I didn't trust the Church; it is the fact that I never trusted my brother. I know that sounds bad, growing up with him and seeing how he would try to twist things to benefit himself. For the most part, he didn't care if another person was hurt by his actions as long as they didn't come back on him. Now I know Louis was a priest, and he was supposed to be a changed man. I could still see the spoiled boy in him, though I am the younger of us brothers. The first night passed by with me in my shelter enjoying a good night's sleep and my mare in her stall doing the same. 

The sun found me sitting at my fire eating bread I toasted with roasted lamb. I could hear my mare making noises. She was getting impatient to get out of her stall and move about. I had enough rope, and there were rings mounted in all the fort's outer walls. I could tie her outside and let her eat grass. My only concern was, what if she managed to break the rope? Would she wander around the fort eating, or would she go down to the valley below? She seemed to be happy when I brought her out into the courtyard and placed her feed in the manger and a bucket of water in a small trough for her. I didn't hobble her; with the door closed, she couldn't wander far. Standing brushing her coat, I looked around the courtyard then my eyes stopped on the doors to the main hall of the fortress.

The doors barring the way into the main hall were not locked. Their hinges were in the same condition as the inner courtyard door hinges. It took me some time and a lot of effort to get them open. Once I did, though, I stood amazed at the size of the hall. It seemed to be longer than the fort walls would allow. It was ringed with large oak tables, and on the tables were shields. These shields had been placed four to a table; I did not know what this was for, as there were no swords on the tables or the floor. The benches belonging to the tables were lined in rows down the centre of the hall. It reminded me of the Church I went to with my mother and father, except our Church didn't have tables filled with battle shields.   Standing in the middle of the hall, I could see a pulpit at the front. The shadows did their best, conspiring to hide any other features from my eyes. Lighting a battered torch, I found I was looking at some kind of inscription. It surrounded the doors and consisted of eight letters, well at the time. I thought they were letters. 'O.U.O.S.V.A.V.V' started at the top of the door and went to the floor on both sides. At the foot of the doorway was the same type of cross I had seen at the Chateau Barberie. Standing in the hall with a torch-lit made me feel better than standing in the dark. I was back behind the pulpit, looking out at the daylight beyond the doors. From here, I was sure this was a meeting place for the men who lived here. It was where they ate as well as worshipped. Standing looking out into the daylight beyond the doors, I hoped