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.The establishment lay near the base of the escarpment where Saint MarieMadeleine had spent her last years.Once, the goddess of the sacred pool had promised Pierrette she would speakwith the saint.Only a child then, she had believed it literally, and hadasked everyone where Mary Magdalene could be found.Her father and the priestOtho had chuckled indulgently.Otho told her of the shrine and the monks whotended it."You're a mason?" His heavy sack was full of tools."I'm Cerdos of Tarascon, a master mason.Perhaps you've heard of me? No? ThenPage 29 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlyou're definitely not a tradesman.I've built bridges and churches from Tolosato Nicaea.I helped build the Frankish king's new palace.""I'm sure the monks will welcome you.Are they expanding their hostel?""Expanding it? They're building it anew.A careless pilgrim's candle set itafire.They're housing travellers in the barns." He stood up."There's no timeto waste.Every hewer and breaker of stone in allProvence is converging on the place, and if they begin without me, there's notelling what mistakes will be made.A good foundation is the key.I won'tbuild a chicken coop on another man's weak courses.Are you coming? Or are youhiding out? You never said.""I'll go with you.It isn't monks I fear."A half-hour's walk brought them near a cluster of barns and sheds."Good,"Cerdos said."They've dug trenches, but have laid no stone."He pointed to a nearby field."There are my children," he said.Pierrette hadthought the white objects were grazing sheep.They were blocks of quarriedstone.Children, indeed, in need of their father's shaping."I wonder who's here?" said Cerdos, eagerly looking around.Monks in darkrobes scurried among lay brothers in workaday clothes and tradesmen dressed ascolorfully as Gypsies."Cerdos!" one fellow shouted."Are you come to carry my tools? I need a huskyapprentice." Cerdos, far from insulted, flung a burly arm around the smallerman, then slapped the back of his head."Ow! Release me, you ox.""This is Ferdiad," Cerdos told Pierrette."He's an Irish sparrow who plays atjoinery.He'd be happier as afile:///K|/eMule/Incoming/Douglas,%20L%20Warren%20-.l%20Of%20Tears%20(chunky%20HTML)/0671319973___5.htm (3 of 11)2-1-2007 14:13:12- Chapter 5monk in a choir, or as a grammarian.""Don't believe the big liar," said Ferdiad in clear, scholarly Latin, not thepatois of Provence."Just because I speak properly, and sing a bit.Butwho are you?""My name is Piers," Pierette said.Cerdos guffawed."The boy has no trade, and doesn't know where he's going, sothe two of you should get on famously." He looked around himself."Who's incharge?"Ferdiad pointed him toward a tall monk who carried a writing-board and acharred stick of vine.Cerdos strode off."Cerdos is a good fellow," Ferdiad told Pierrette."What did he mean aboutyou?""Just that I was going to Aquae Sextiae," she said, matching his classicalaccent."I became frightened when someone something chased me, and I fledhere.Now I'm not sure whether to try another route, or to go home, overyonder scarp.""I've heard tales," said the Irishman."There may be more than brigands outthere.Old ghosts are astir Iknow, because I've felt their like in my own land.""You have? Where is that? I thought such apparitions were new.""My island is a Gaelic land," Ferdiad explained, "never conquered by Latins orGermans thus ourCeltic ghosts are with us always.""Are Gauls and Gaels the same?""The same stock.We Irish descend from the first warriors to harness horse tochariot the tribe of Dana, goddess of the great river of the east.Of coursewe're all good Christians now," he hastened to add."In fact, we wereChristians long before Clovis and his savage Franks professed the Faith."He peered at Pierrette, who had withdrawn into deep thought.Was the Irishland the source of the fantmesPage 30 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm
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