Free Beasts of the Seventh Crusade (The Crusades Book 4) by Mark Butler Page B

said.
    "How about we just live?" Francois said.
    "That's not always the best choice, either," Raul replied. "We must pass through this area if we are to continue straight south. I have no desire to travel ten or twenty miles east or west, to avoid those Inquisitors. Let's wait, and they'll soon leave."
    Raul sat down. They had a high vantage point, and there was no purpose in moving around if they were merely going to wait for the Inquisitors to leave. Artois, with a shrug of his great shoulders, sat down too. In the basin, the condemned man's screams intensified. The flames had reached his waist.
    "Are you two just going to watch him burn?" Francois asked.
    "Don't look if you don't want to. There's nowhere to go until those Inquisitors leave, so we must watch them," Raul said.
    One of the Inquisitors broke away from the group. He was holding a large book, and he seemed to be reading from it while pointing at the burning man. He cannot hear you, fool, he is dying, Francois stared at the speaking man, trying to transmit his thoughts. Cut him down and bury him like a decent human. You do not know what happens after death, no matter what your book says. Why then, do you prolong suffering? As if in response to Francois' thoughts, a strong breeze started, picking up water from the basin and cooling the flames on the man. The speaker's hand started to tremble, and the condemned man let out an exaggerated groan of relief. The flames slowed, not quite reaching his chest.
    "Lucky bastard," Artois said, smiling.
    The wind died down and the man coughed. Watching from a distance, Francois thought he saw blood come out of the man's mouth. Not that it mattered, his life would soon expire. The Inquisitor stopped reading from his book and went back to the group, a stray bit of evil reconnecting with its foundation.
    "What is the next town we will reach?" Artois asked, uncomfortable with the silence.
    "Béziers," Raul answered.
    "Truly?" Francois asked. "I have heard of Béziers before, its sad history—"
    "The city is still being repaired from that fateful day, the first day of the Albigensian Crusade. Béziers was the first town that was attacked, and none was spared. Even those who took refuge in churches, even priests, were put to the sword. The royal crown did not want Cathar beliefs to spread, and they put everyone in Béziers, 20,000 people, to death," Raul said bitterly.
    "And what about the women, children?" Artois asked.
    "Everyone was killed, son. The French believed that God would know his own. After the city fell, everything was burned to the ground. Even those who sought refuge in churches and cathedrals were slaughtered, whether by sword or fire, it matters not. I knew many who were there that day, and I have never forgotten the church's ideas of forgiveness and love."
    The condemned man finally died. Francois watched him closely, looking for any slight movement, but there was none. The dark Inquisitors sensed the death, too, and they walked away from the scene in a solemn cadence, content that they had seen justice done.
    "Let's go," Francois said.
    The basin was moist, with short grass that couldn't absorb all the moisture, so the water lapped at their boots. The flames had mostly died down from the burning stake, and Francois realized that the flames had never burned very brightly. They had simmered, barely extinguishing the man's life and then dying themselves, leaving a black, charred monument in their wake. The death and evil was almost palpable in the air, teasing at Francois' lips and tongue.
    "Should we cut him down?" he asked, as they neared the site. He looked to his father, whose eyes had taken on the far-off look of one remembering painful memories. Raul was biting his lip, too, a nervous tic Francois recognized as a result of a difficult decision to make.
    "Leave him. If any Cathars come through this area, they should see what their enemy does," Raul said.
    "I could've killed all of them, father. I know I could,"