The Devil's Concubine Read online

  “We walked so much that we reached Marseille in nine days. We had travelled more than 300 kilometers. I could barely stand, my skin was burned, my stomach too empty, my body exhausted, and my mind absent.

  “However, Geniez was right. Marseille was decked out and impatiently awaited the young crusaders arrival. It was a very old and pleasant city that I thought might be able to awaken my numb senses. Two large streets divided the city into four sections which were lined with wide roads and avenues. Each avenue and road was devoted to only one specific type of merchandise. Merchants and artisans lined the streets and vocally advertised their products. On one avenue, you could find cloth, colored cotton, fine silks and fabrics; on another furniture made from expensive wood. Another avenue offered exquisite wine from all parts of the world and still on others, you could find beautiful jewelry, salt and rich spices, perfume made from the highly valued ambergris, and oriental ornaments. Everything seemed large and spacious, as if the city were waiting to receive an unusually large number of people. It made sense. Marseille was a very important commercial port. The bustle of people made me feel better, less alone.

  “Stephen of Cloyes had not yet arrived. However, there were many young people, who, like us, had travelled directly to Marseille to wait for him. They looked as exhausted as we were. You could see them sprawled and dozing, sometimes in large groups, in any given corner of the streets. It didn’t take long for Geniez to approach a group of five or six very young and ragged boys who sat chatting cheerfully by the docks. Geniez was out-going. I wasn’t in the least bit and didn’t want to initiate a conversation with any one of those religious fanatics. I didn’t have anything to say to them.

  “I stayed a safe distance away so as to avoid being bothered by them and pretended to be interested in the knickknacks on one of the street stands. The sea breeze provided a pleasant reprieve from the heat. I walked along the port aimlessly and watched the immense blue sea burst into white foam upon crashing against the pier. Different little stands sold trinkets for children and other various knickknacks. Other stands sold food and I was starving to death. I hadn’t eaten anything since the day before and I didn’t have a single coin in my pocket. As I walked by the stands, my eyes turned glassy and filled with longing; my legs began to tremble.

  “The port was full of people. A multitude of curious people of varying ages waiting for the big event. I heard someone say he would arrive the next day. Everything would end tomorrow, I thought. From afar, I heard Geniez’s voice shouting for me. I didn’t pay any attention and continued walking, captivated and dazed, feeling how my body made way for the crowd which approached me from the opposite direction, feeling how I was jostled by people’s swift strides as though they were in a hurry to get somewhere. As they hurried along, I felt like they were pushing me toward the place from where they came. I simply let myself be swept along. Deacon walked closely beside me, frightened by the people. I turned toward the least crowded pier so he wouldn’t be bothered by them. There I sat down to think and enjoyed the silence and solitude.

  “From the time I was a young girl, I was always painfully aware of how isolated and alone I felt because of my differences. I was always much too bright, too introspective, and now, too beautiful. None of this earned me any friends but neither did I look for any. I thought people were insincere and hateful, indifferent and ignorant, crude and egotistical. I didn’t understand wars, man’s inability to coexist, the imposition of ideals, servitude, blind obedience, slavery, poverty, envy, hate, crime... Excluding my immediate family and the Saint-Ange family, I was never fond of my own race. Now my moral solitude took on a new meaning. Geniez was the only person I had left and I needed to cling to him in order to endure my existence.

  “My stomach was empty and I began to feel some internal sensations that I’d never felt before: grumbling, pain, discomfort, weakness... I was faint and wasted. Wasted and emotionless like an alcoholic who drinks to forget. Nothing was important; not today nor tomorrow. Not even the hunger I suffered urged me to act or think. The pier seemed like a nice place to die and be buried. But dying isn’t that easy, however pure and constant the desire. I wasn’t going to die. I knew this and that certainty filled me with dread.

  “Suddenly, I realized Deacon was not with me. I couldn’t see him anywhere and given my state of distress, I was terrified. I abruptly stood and yelled for him as I frantically looked around. Right away I saw him running toward me wagging his long tail. I breathed a sigh of relief and felt tears clouding my eyes. He reached me and I fell to my knees to hug him. He seemed very happy, so much so that I looked toward the other side of the pier from where he had ran.

  “That’s when I saw him for the first time. I was paralyzed, speechless and fascinated. His face invaded my senses and expelled all other thoughts. The entire world disappeared, there was no sorrow, no pain, no abandonment. I was no longer alone. Not now.

  “He was looking at me. From the distance, I saw his gorgeous dark hair that fell a little below his shoulders and which was slightly swaying in the soft, humid breeze. He had masculine but delicate features and was tall, very tall in comparison with men of that era. He wore lavish but simple clothes: a white shirt made from fine fabric covered by a long and ample fustian coat. His green silk pants fell to his knees and his gray tights fit his claves perfectly. But it wasn’t his elegance that instantly captivated me after the sudden impact of his unexpected appearance. It was something different. Something deep, abstract, and metaphysical. A spiritual awakening which, in some way, I instantly understood.

  “Facing each other, we both stood still. I could see his puzzled expression clearly. He seemed somber, guarded, and at the same time, profoundly tormented, as if he suffered from some internal conflict he would never be able to resolve. I felt an intense sadness. I ached to go to him, to tell him I knew him, I loved him, and I needed him. However, those were my last thoughts before, worn-out by hunger and fatigue, I fainted and fell beneath the blazing Mediterranean sun.”

  –II–

  “When I woke up I was not at the harbor, but rather, in a warm and comfortable bed. A bed that I hadn’t enjoyed in so many days. Even before I opened my eyes or regained full consciousness, the sight of that splendid creature returned to my mind. My heart pounded with excitement. I asked myself, ‘Where could he be? Did he bring me here?’ I heard the sound of a chair scrapping heavily against the wooden floor. I was still dizzy and exhausted. My head hurt when I moved, even when I moved ever so slowly. Suddenly, I felt a cold wet cloth against my forehead so quickly opened my eyes. Some dark tendrils of hair covered my eyes and as I nervously brushed them aside, the person holding the cloth stepped back.

  “It was Celine, a young girl in the group which Geniez had befriended. She explained we were in an inn and that Geniez was downstairs eating with her brothers.

  “I immediately asked her if she had seen my gentlemen. She was surprised by my description and seemed to think the sun had affected me; she simply shook her head no. Seconds later, Geniez and Celine’s three young brothers walked through the door. Geniez carried a tray containing bread and fish for me to eat.

  “Having ate, a couple of hours later I felt much better and wanted to go look for him. I was dying to see him again. It was as if everything had suddenly changed. I felt it would be worthwhile to stay alive just for the chance to meet him. However, in my fantasies, I didn’t limit myself to so little.

  “I left Geniez enthusiastically telling Celine and her brothers all the facts, places, and characters related to past crusades and ventured into the streets of Marseille. I searched the port from top to bottom. I went into shops and taverns. When night fell and I hadn’t seen a trace of him, I returned to the inn exhausted and disappointed. Maybe he set sail on one of the boats I had seen that afternoon. He might be a rich Venetian merchant, or maybe a prince...

  “That night Celine and I slept in the same room. She told me that she and her brothers had embarked on the crusade with their
parent’s full consent. They believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Stephen was the new Moses and that he would lead them on an unforgettable and historic adventure through the dry lands of the Mediterranean.

  “At noon the next day, Stephen of Cloyes arrived leading around fifteen or twenty thousand young followers. Almost all of them were in a terrible state. The other thirty thousand who had met in Vendome, weren’t able to withstand the rigors of that scorching summer. Hunger, thirst, and exhaustion had made many of them give up and go home halfway through the trip. How intelligent and fortunate they were.

  “Marseille joyfully received the extremely young crusaders that had managed to arrive. They were a mixed group and had one thing in common: age. Many of them weren’t over ten years-old and the oldest, of which there weren’t many, were eighteen years-old. Some were of noble birth, others were the sons and daughters of merchants, lawyers, and doctors and some were simple peasants. Many of them had their parent’s blessing to embark on such an important mission, and those less fortunate, had opted to leave without it. The oldest crusaders wanted glory and the youngest wanted adventure. The children of noble birth led the march on horseback and carried the crusade’s insignia, the oriflamme. Jovial, proud, and dressed for the occasion, they flanked the outrageously lavish carriage from where Stephen, the experienced twelve-year-old leader, waved to the enthusiastic crowd. His intentness and exaggerated stateliness with which he carried himself, like Cesar returning from a victorious campaign, aroused much laughter and comments.

  “As I watched the show in all of its historical importance, I poked my head over the balcony in our room at the inn and never stopped looking down upon the heads in the crowd searching for the man who I couldn’t, not even for one second, stop thinking about. From that high up, I was almost able to see the entire port. With his good looks making him stand out in the crowd, I was certain I would’ve seen if he had been there. My search was futile.

  “I didn’t let myself get discouraged and continued looking around among the boys and girls who, in spite of their exhaustion, cheerfully poured into the port. All activity had stopped in the city. Merchants, visitors, churchgoers, or mere busybodies from nearby towns or distant cities came just to witness the grand event. A great number or priests, reporters from Rome and young boys from any given place in France, that had run away from home at the last minute, gathered in the harbor to cheer and applaud the crusaders and presented them with bread, cheese, cured meat, salted fish and water. All was quickly distributed and consumed.

  “Stephen of Cloyes spoke with Cicero’s eloquence. It’s no surprise he had been able to dazzle so many children and adults during his moving speeches across the country. I had the opportunity to hear his eloquence when the carriage stopped approximately in the center of the port. He stood up without exiting the carriage and with the tranquil serenity of a seasoned general and with all the strength in his already strong, deep voice, he gave thanks for the warm welcome and for their faith, which, he promised, would soon be rewarded. The cheering and applauding drowned out his voice so he stopped speaking until a new and respectful silence was imposed. Stephen was a firm believer. He never questioned his sanity or if he had been deceived by some unscrupulous trickster, or if heaven would forget its prophecy or simply wanted to make fun of him and his followers. There wasn’t a hint of doubt in his face, nor a lack of conviction in his persuasive speech. He said the miracle was about to happen and that we should get ready for the trip. The word of God would be his sword and shield. Food? Don’t worry, God will provide throughout the voyage.

  “The silence and anticipation became intense when Stephen descended from the carriage. He must have thought a staff was a vital element in such a biblical scene that he was about to undertake. He had a staff that was almost taller than he was and with it, he struck the ground forcefully with each step he took. He walked quickly, intently, and confidently along the pier toward a dike. He walked along the pier until he became a distant blond head. He was followed by the advance party of noble children on horseback and behind them, those who during those times were called the commoners, in short, the poor.

  “It was impossible not to be carried away by the excitement of the moment. I grabbed the handrail with such strength that I suddenly realized my hands hurt and had turned purple. I had to loosen my grip. I was astounded. ‘What if it really happened?’, I thought and for the first time got carried away by the crowd’s excitement. If it happened, perhaps life would have meaning. So many people were gathered there, so many excited people... If God existed, he must make it happen, he must not disappoint them. Even if Stephen was nothing more than a nutcase.

  “And what a nutcase he was! He got to the end of the dike and then lifted his face and his arms, including his shepherds’ staff, toward the sky. The silence and stillness were absolute, only the ocean dared to stay in motion, insolent and indifferent to the divine miracle that would never occur.

  “Prayers erupted from the crowd and broke the silence. Thousands upon thousands of people joined in a soft harmonic prayer, sure they had been chosen to witness the miracle. But minutes passed and nature didn’t make any unnatural movements. The prayers became louder as if the faithful, surprised by the lack of an answer, were trying to get the attention of a God who was too far away or too busy to hear them. It’s impossible to know how much time passed but it must have been more than an hour. There were many Hail Marys and Our Fathers. The more impatient people abandoned the collective prayer and strained their eyes to see above people’s heads. They wanted to see Stephen’s movements, or rather, his stillness and any changes in the water that would suggest they were ready to part.

  “The sun, reflecting on the impassive ocean’s steel blue waters, fell fully upon them and turned the wait into an inferno. You began hearing impatient, weary remarks above the unanswered prayers, which ended up becoming a dissonant murmur abandoned by the majority. Sometime later, even the most persistent and loyal believers quieted their prayers in favor of a painful and somber silence. Then, angry voices erupted, scattered here and there along the harbor. They called Stephen a phony, a liar, an infidel, a heretic, and other worse insults. He was now kneeling in the same spot, with his head bowed and hands crossed as though he would continue praying. I remember that after a few minutes of enduring the insults, he suddenly stood, turned around, and began screaming with a broken expression on his face. He seemed to be verbally attacking the rebellious crowd but had raised his voice to such a frantic uproar, I doubt he could even hear his own words. The nobles who had ridden with him were the only ones that remained utterly silent but their faces showed their disappointment. However, it seemed they were unwilling to admit defeat and give up.

  “The children, disheartened due to their disappointment and exhaustion, slowly began to leave. It was a sad and unfortunate, albeit expected sight. Celine was with me on the balcony and seemed extremely devastated so I tried to console her. Even I was disappointed and in the end had wished the miracle had taken place. The sad scene was unsettling.

  “Little by little, children and adults began leaving the port. Like ghosts, they walked into the city. It didn’t take long for Celine and her brothers to come to our room. They acted as if they were returning from a funeral. I could imagine their frustration, the pain of unfulfilled dreams. They sat down on the chairs and the bed without saying a word. I thought they were acting silly but I also thought God was unjust. If I were God, it would have been easier to perform the miracle than bear the pain of disappointing my children.

  “We would all leave the next day. Our friends would take us on horseback to Montpellier and then they would go on to Paris. This is what we had decided before we set out that night to say good-bye to Marseille.

  “As we walked the streets, we heard Stephen start to perform again. We heard his voice roaring in the port, tirelessly calling for his followers to return. He told us God had changed his plans so that we wouldn’t have to walk such a great distance
as exhausted as we were. ‘Praise the Lord! Even in these circumstances he had thought of his children’s well-being. How great is God and his helpers who have provided seven sail boats so that his servants could travel safely to Sacred Ground! God wills it!’, the crusaders leader shouted, ‘God wills it!’

  “The mere mention of those “divine helper’s” names immediately provoked fear. One was named Hugo, or rather, “The Iron” for reasons I’ll leave to your imagination and the other was Guillaume, whose nickname was “The Pig”. These two generous merchants unselfishly offered to charter seven boats that the visionary and his followers would take to Jerusalem.

  “The overall excitement terrified me. Without a miracle of such magnitude, like the parting of the Mediterranean for our passage, what would stop the merchants from killing us? The boats would set sail the following morning carrying as many young people as they could hold. I became frightened when I noticed Geniez’s happiness and knew that once again I would be dragged along behind him.

  “So it was and, sure enough, the next morning the sail boats started to depart with me on one of them. And then, when it was already too late, and as the ship set sail while I said good-bye to the inn’s owners and to Deacon who I had left in their care, I saw him again.

  “My heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t some sort of illusion. He was staring right at me. I saw him take a few steps toward the edge of the pier and then he held his hand out to me. He was asking me to jump, to go to him. I was certain of it and there was no time for doubt. I raised my right foot, placed it on the side of the ship and got ready to jump. But then I heard screams behind me and suddenly felt hands pulling me back, stopping me from jumping into the water. Helpless, I screamed with all my might. I was completely frantic as I watched the sudden swiftness with which the boat set sail and how, with each second that passed, it separated me further from him. I begged for them to let me go, that I must jump or I would die. But they didn’t understand. ‘What’s wrong with you?’, they asked. ‘Do you want to kill yourself?’ And just like that, the port became distant and, once again, I lost him.