Page 391 - Revelation

Svetlana de Rohan-Levashova. Revelation

convince the young man to leave the room, but he negatively shook his head and again
turned to the young woman in the bed.

The illumination in the hall was very poor – just a few smoking torches hung on
the walls on both sides, casting long swaying shadows. Once, this hall had been very
beautiful. Skilfully embroidered beautiful tapestries proudly hung on its walls. Merry
multicoloured stained-glass protected high windows, enlivening the last dim evening
light. Something truly bad must have happened to the owners so that the once wealthy
looking room now appeared so neglected and uncomfortable.
I could not understand why this strange story entirely captivated me?! What was
the most important in it: the event itself? A person or persons who were there, or that
tiny unborn man? Unable to tear myself away from the vision, I thirsted to know the
end of this strange and certainly unhappy story!

Suddenly the air in the papal library began to thicken. It was Sever.
– Oh! I felt something familiar and decided to come back to you. But I did not
think that you would look at that. You should not read this sad story, Isidora. It’ll just
bring more pain to you.
– Do you know it? Then tell me Sever, who are these people? Why does my heart
ache for them? – I asked, being surprised by his advice.

– They are the Cathars, Isidora... Your beloved Cathars the night before their
execution. – Sever pronounced sadly. – The place you see is their last and dearest
fortress which held out longer than others. It’s Montsegur, Isidora... The Temple of the
Sun... It is the Home of Magdalena and her descendants..., one of which is just about
to be born.
– ?!.

– Don’t be surprised. The child’s father is Bieloyar’s descendant and
correspondingly, Radomir’s. His name was Svetozar or the Light of Dawn, if you like
it more. It is a very sorrowful and cruel story (just as all their stories). I don’t advise
you to look at it, my friend.
Sever was concentrated and deeply sad. I understood that he did not find any
pleasure whatsoever in the vision I was seeing at that moment, nevertheless, he was
patient, warm and quiet as usual.
– When did it happen, Sever? You are not saying that we will see the real end of
the Cathars?

Sever gave me a long look, as if he pitied me... as if he did not wish to wound me
more. But I persistently continued to wait for an answer, giving him no opportunity to
avoid it.
– Regrettably, I am, Isidora; although I would like very much to tell you about
something more joyful. What you are looking at now happened in 1244 in March, in
the night when the last Cathars’ refuge – Montsegur – fell. They held out ten long
months, freezing and starving, driving the army of the "santissimo" Pope and His
Majesty king of France mad. There were just one hundred real knight-warriors and
four hundred persons including women and children, and more than two hundred of
the Perfect ones. They were besieged by several thousand professional knight-

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