The body of a man lies in Souarcy Forest. It appears to have been burnt and yet there is no trace of any fire in the vicinity. An emissary of the Pope delivers a message to the Abbess of Clairets, Éleusie de Beaufort. The message contains a reference to the divine blood that washes away all sins. More corpses are discovered, as well as a series of clues pointing to Manoir de Souarcy and Agnès.
On her estate, Agnès, Dame de Souarcy, must also cope with the incestuous desires of her half-brother Eudes de Larnay, who dreams of forcing her to submit to him and is quick to throw her into the clutches of the Inquisition and the bloodthirsty Nicolas Florin. The only person who might save Agnès is Artus, Comte d’Authon, who has fallen in love with her.
The Breath of the Rose
September 1304. Accused of heresy by her half-brother Eudes de Larnay, Agnès de Souarcy finds herself at the mercy of the wicked Nicolas Florin, Grand Inquisitor at Alençon. Florin is ecstatic: this beautiful woman, whom a mysterious shadowy figure has ordered him to kill, drives him to distraction, and he relishes torturing her and watching her suffering. And yet the source of Agnès’s greatest pain is her daughter Mathilde, who was ready to betray her, to accuse her of dealings with the devil in exchange for a few trinkets.
October 1304, the Templar commandery at Arville. The Knight Hospitaller Francesco de Leone continues his secret quest. He is searching for a scroll of papyrus – one of mankind’s most sacred texts, whose existence he learnt of through his godfather, Eustache de Rioux. The manuscript was hidden by a Knight Templar at one of his order’s commanderies.
November 1304, the Vatican Palace. Honorius Benedetti is determined at all costs to retrieve the famous Vallombroso treatise, whose contents must on no account become known. The treatise, which Clément has discovered in the secret library at Clairets Abbey, also contains a reference to Agnès de Souarcy’s birth chart.
1304, Clairets Abbey. One by one the nuns are dying by poisoning. The culprit is among them. Éleusie de Beaufort – Abbess of Clairets and Francesco de Leone’s aunt – is convinced that the killer’s motive is the manuscripts in the secret library …
What is this extraordinary intrigue in which Agnès appears to play the pivotal role? Why is she so crucial to the mysterious quest of the Knight Hospitaller Francesco de Leone that, in a bid to free her, he does not hesitate to slay her jailer, Nicolas Florin? How will Clément, her young protégé, and Comte Artus d’Authon, who has fallen in love with her, protect her from an overwhelming danger? And what is the true meaning of the reference to the Dame de Souarcy’s date of birth and astrological sign in the precious manuscripts at Clairets?
Agnès, illegitimate recognised child of Baron de Larnay, widow, Dame de Souarcy.
Clément, posthumous ‘son’ of Sybille, the lady’s maid to whom Agnès gave refuge, unaware that she was a heretic.
Mathilde, Agnès’s only daughter, shallow and capricious, frustrated by the harsh life at Souarcy.
Eudes de Larnay, Agnès’s half-brother and overlord.
Francesco de Leone, member of the order of the Knights Hospitaller, which has retreated to Cyprus.
Artus, Comte d’Authon, Eudes de Larnay’s overlord. Agnès is his under-vassal.
Éleusie de Beaufort, Abbess of Clairets and Francesco de Leone’s aunt.
Annelette Beaupré, apothecary nun at Clairets Abbey.
Honorius Benedetti, the Pope’s camerlingo (treasurer and secretary).
Aude de Neyrat, Benedetti’s beautiful but redoubtable right-hand woman.
Nicolas Florin, Dominican, Grand Inquisitor for the Alençon region.
Esquive d’Estouville, a young girl who crosses Francesco de Leone’s path without his suspecting that she is his protector.
Agnan, young clerk at the Inquisition headquarters of Alençon, former secretary of Nicolas Florin. He has joined Agnès’s cause.
Words marked with an asterisk (*) are explained in the Historical References starting on page 601; those marked with a plus sign (+) are explained in the Glossary starting on page 611.
To Janine A. H.,
Tenderness, laughter, reading.
Then such sweet insistent sorrow when you departed.
Rest, our Janine.
Your Ganesh smiles over my work table.
Vatican Palace, Rome, December 1304
The camerlingo Honorius Benedetti’s thin lips were white with rage. He had the repulsive feeling that his flesh was gradually being eaten away, that his skin was sticking to his cheekbones. He raised his hand to his nose and smelt it to see whether the odour he had suddenly perceived was really that of his decaying body or simply a distressing illusion. All he could smell was the faint scent of rosewater from his morning ablutions.
They had the upper hand. Once again they had the upper hand. The others. A sudden feeling of dizziness made him close his eyes. How could it be? Benedetti was not afraid of facing the terrible possibility that he had been mistaken all along. That God was protecting his enemies in order to show him how wrong he had been all these years. On the contrary, the camerlingo had only himself to blame for hiring such incompetent henchmen. Any spiritual doubts he might have had were quashed by his absolute conviction that man could not be left to his own devices; that the evil in him would triumph if he were not compelled to be good, because sinning is easier and above all more pleasurable. What a fool he had been to have employed the services of that spectre! As for the Grand Inquisitor, that Nicolas Florin, whom he had learnt had been murdered at Alençon, Aude de Neyrat had been absolutely right. It was madness to have entrusted the execution of such a plan to resentment, envy and bloodthirstiness.
Agnès de Souarcy had escaped from the ruthless clutches of the Inquisition* against all the odds.
Benedetti plunged the tip of the stiletto knife he used as a letter opener into his magnificent hardwood desk. He would pray for the eternal damnation of Nicolas Florin’s soul. Although, in reality, the man had no need of his help in order to be condemned to the eternal torments of the damned.
He tugged hard on the braided bell rope that connected his study to an usher’s tiny bureau. The man appeared almost instantly in the tall doorway.
‘Your Eminence,’ he burbled submissively, lowering his head.
‘Has my lady visitor arrived yet?’
‘This very instant, Your Eminence.’
‘Well! Don’t just stand there, show her in!’ shouted the camerlingo.
The other man stifled a look of dismay. He didn’t recall ever having seen the prelate display even a hint of annoyance. Indeed, his