Page 415 - Revelation

Svetlana de Rohan-Levashova. Revelation

– Corba! Corba, forgive me!!! – Her father let out a cry.

Suddenly Esclarmonde felt a tender touch. She knew it was her Light of Dawn,
her Svetozar. He stretched his hand from far away to say the last farewell... to say that
he was with her... that he knew how scared she was ... how painful it would be... He
asked her to be brave...
Wild sharp pain slashed her body. Here it was! It finally came!!! Burning roaring
flame touched her face. Her hair blazed up... In a second her whole body was seized
with fire... A sweet, light girl, almost a child, accepted her death in silence. Sometimes
she heard her father fiercely crying her name. Then everything disappeared... Her pure
soul went into the kind and right world, without giving up or breaking, exactly the way
she wanted to go.

Suddenly, and absolutely out of place, singing was heard... It was clergymen who
sang to muffle the screams of the burning "convicts". Their voices, hoarse from the
cold, sang psalms about God’s all-forgiving kindness...
At last, the evening sun set on the walls of Montsegur.
The terrible fire burnt out, here and there flashing with dying red embers. Over
the day the wind increased and now raged, spreading all over the valley black clouds
of soot and cinder, seasoned by the sweetish smell of burnt human flesh...

A queer apathetic man rambled lost at the funeral fire, stumbling through the
people... From time to time he cried out somebody's name, grasped his head and began
to sob loudly and heart- rendingly. The crowd parted, respecting his grief. The man
plodded slowly, seeing or hearing nothing... He was grey-haired, hunched and tired.
Sharp gusts of wind blew about his long grey hair and tore his worn dark clothes... For
an instant the man turned around and – oh, Gods! – He was a young man!!! His
emaciated thin face breathed pain... His wide open grey eyes looked with surprise. It
seemed that he did not understand where he was and why. Suddenly he gave a wild cry
and... Jumped straight into the fire! Or rather what was left of it... People tried to
grasp his hand but failed. The man tumbled face downwards onto burning out red
cinders, clasping to his bosom something coloured.
And then he stopped breathing.

Finally they dragged him out of the fire and saw what he held firmly clutched in
his thin hardening fist... It was a bright hair ribbon which young Occitan fiancees wore
before the wedding... which meant that several hours ago he was a happy young
groom...
The wind still ruffled his long hair which had became grey over a day, softly
playing with scorched strands... but the man already felt or heard nothing.
He again found his sweetheart and went with her, hand in hand, along the shining
star road of the Cathars to meet their new star future... He again was very happy.

People, with their faces hardened in grief, still roamed around the almost
extinguished fire... They did not feel the piercing wind and cold. They searched for the
remains of their nearest and dearest, here and there rolling out from the ash the burnt
bones of their sons, daughters, sisters and brothers, wives and husbands... or friends...
Weeping was heard from time to time when somebody picked up a ring darkened in the

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