Chapter 3: The Wheel of Fortune
I arrived quietly in France. When I crossed the frontier, it was desert... Luck... And sometime later I arrived in a village. With the help of the noise and the ensign I located the blacksmith.
"Good morning, Monsieur," I said by trying to hide my Spanish accent.
"Good morning, young man," the craftsman retorted without looking up and continuing his shoeing work.
"Could you indicate to me where I can buy a horse? I have a long road awaiting me."
The man stopped his work and, as he raised his head, he observed me. I was wearing black from my coat to my boots.
"You won't find any horse sellers here, young man. On the other side a carriage must leave tomorrow for Perpignan if it interests you. But if you are in such a hurry, know that we don't like strangers and still less the Spanish," the blacksmith argued by gazing at me with a black look.
"I didn't want to bother you, please excuse me," I said, hiding my irritation before turning back.
I followed my path and crossed the entire village while the snow began to fall again.
Just my luck, I thought.
Far away, I remarked another village thanks to the church tower which stood out clearly.
"I should be able to find refuge over there, for want of horse."
I quickened my pace after having tried to find where the sun was. According to the brightness in spite of the cloudy sky, it must still be early; nonetheless, I didn't slow down... An uneasy feeling had beset me.
When I heard howling close and far, I understood.
"Lobos, that's all I needed," I grumbled.
...
And the village remained in the distance.
...
On the lookout, I neatly heard the pack's approach. First with the cries, then to the crunching of their paws on the snow and above all to their panting... Their growls. I didn't begin to run; I knew it was useless and even more dangerous. I tightened my grip on the pilgrim's staff offered by the monk in Llivia, focusing on the surrounding noises.
The pack was feeling my calm and was waiting for a moment of wavering from me, a mistake of inattention.
One of the wolves, more nervous and less patient, attacked me. I pushed him back with a hit of the pilgrim's staff.
Like a breach had opened up, other wolves imitated their congener but were pushed back in the same way. Suddenly three wolves jumped on me at the same time. I only saw one of them that I pushed back vividly as the two others clung to my coat. One at the level of my left arm, the other on my right leg.
Unbalanced, I fell backward and struggled violently to get free from the animals' grips. There was a clanking noise on my left while I rolled on my right side. Panicked, the wolf which was gripping my left arm let me go and flew away. Free, I could hit the wolf which persecuted the bottom of my coat.
After another wolf's cry, I stood up while a black wolf with a piercing look threw himself on me.
"That's enough!" I yelled by striking more brutally.
The wolf hit a tree trunk and fell down, creating panic in the pack, which flew away. It was probably the leader of the pack.
I gasped for breath, the fight had been harsh. I was lucky to avoid the animals' claw marks and bites thanks to the good quality and thickness of my coat. Certainly, this last was now wearing marks of struggles, but I was safe.
The wolf against the tree whined, getting my attention. I looked around me; hesitant... I sighed while the animal cried again and I decided to get closer.
"I'm sorry, amigo. Permit me to look if I have hurt you a lot... However, be careful, I won't let you bite me," I said while I leant over the animal, which slightly grumbled.
I inspected him gently, looking for any apparent wound. The animal didn't let himself be touched and he tried to escape my hands. Finally, he stopped struggling, feeling my warmness.
"That's good, amigo, you understand that I don't wish you harm," I asserted with a calming and tranquil voice.
I made him cry when I slightly touched his rear left leg. The snow had stopped falling. I looked around and noticed a carriage on halt not very far from me.
"Well, amigo, you will survive. Your paw is not broken, only sprained. It will certainly bother you during some days. Now, go away, old friend. I know you can do it. One last advice... Don't get close to humans anymore," I explained by straightening him up.
The wolf hesitated and then made a first step by limping and stopped. He turned toward me and emitted a thankful howl before going back to the wood as his paw permitted him. I smiled while looking at him going away and returned on my own path.
"Lobo? Do you think it was a sign, honey?"
"No. This lobo didn't try to get rid of me afterward. I crossed paths with him another time. I knew it was him thanks to his look. I will come back on this later," Diego smiled.
As soon as I made some steps, I was called by the cart's coach driver who was a clergyman.
"Is everything alright, my son?" the monk asked.
"Yes," I asserted as I arrived next to him.
"Where are you going like that?"
"I have to go to Perpignan."
"On foot? You risk meeting other wolves on your path. Come with me, I will lead you to Mont-Louis. I know someone there who could provide you a mount."
"Gracias, Padre," I said by realizing my mistake in front of the monk's smile.
"You're welcome, my son. However, be careful when you're talking... Spaniards aren't welcome in the area."
"That's what the blacksmith let me understand in the last village I went through," I affirmed as I climbed next to the monk who noticed some blood on my left hand.
"You're injured," he exclaimed.
I looked at my hand, puzzled.
"Oh, I don't think it is very important," I said quietly by observing my hand.
I was feeling no pain, yet my sleeve was slightly cut next to my cuff. Lower than the wolf bite. The monk started his cart while I rolled up my sleeve, looking for any wound. I noticed a very slight cut that the monk had also seen.
"Wolves didn't miss you."
"It isn't the wolves, Father. It's from, I think, a jaw trap closing," I explained while remembering the clanking noise.
"You were lucky not to be trapped... In all case, we will have a break at Hermitage Notre Dame where I could take care of it. We're not very far from it now."
The journey was effectively quick and I could observe the hermitage becoming bigger and bigger while we went closer.
"How old is the building?" I asked.
"It has grown as years gone by," the monk answered.
I admired the high church built on the slope of the small valley. The chevet was at the height of the high altar niche, shaping so a second chapel. Next to the church was a huge building. The construction was baroque. The roof was covered with a thick sheet of snow which rendered the build more dazzling than it was normally. Once in the inside court, I could observe the presence of numerous arches. Monks were marching in procession toward the church, with people at work. A small forge had been improvised close to a part of the building transformed in stable.
"It's a great place of passage for pilgrims and voyagers, my son," the monk explained in front of my look. "I have to take on a little freight before joining Mont-Louis."
"I may help you if you wish."
"It would be a pleasure, but first we will take care of your arm."
...
Sometime after, the cart went away with some more boxes and barrels. The cut was very, very slight, and didn't need any stitches at all. When the monk had looked at it, it had already stopped bleeding.
When we arrived close to Mont-Louis, I could observe that the access was sunken and absolutely prevented any surprise attacks from outside. The city was fortified; the broad ramparts commanded carefulness and respect. All passengers were watched and all carts were inspected. The carrying of weapons was allowed but duels were forbidden. I remained silent and let Padre François converse with the guards. Once the formalities were fulfilled, the cart could enter in the city by crossing a tunnel as long at the ramparts' width and passing through a total of five doors.
"That's an impressive fortification," I remarked by whistling of admiration and noticing the smile of the clergyman.
Inside, Padre François went to downtown. Close to the ramparts was a little building greatly aside from the others and from the crowd. The front showed a tumultuous past. A small court was delimited by a little low wall buried under snow.
"Wait here, young man," the monk ordered as he went down off of the cart before heading to the building.
Once in front of the door, he pulled down a little chain which made a small bell chime.
Sometime after, the door opened up on a man strongly built and endowed with a beard which could have made Blackbeard blanch of envy.
"Father François," the man exclaimed before squeezing his hand vigorously. At my great surprise, the monk didn't seem to be offended.
"Come in," the man went on.
Turning toward me, Father François then said:
"A young pilgrim accompanies me. He needs a lodge for the night and..."
"Don't say more, my friend," he interrupted him. "He is welcome here... I suppose that the young man is from the border," he whispered not so low.
"Indeed," Father François smiled before coming back to the cart with the owner of the place.
"Young man, Father François explained that you're looking for lodging for the night. Know that you're welcome in my home."
"I thank you for your hospitality," I said by shaking the held out hand of the man.
The exchange was so vigorous that I shook my hurting hand discreetly.
After a brief presentation, I helped Father François and Alphonse, from his old name Alfonso, unload the cart. Alphonse was far older than me. His stout build and his gruff look inspired fear to whoever didn't know him. But under this shell of Pyrenean bear hid a man with a great heart who struggled to win respect from the citizens of the city and to become integrated to the community.
During the dinner, Alphonse advised me to adopt a French-sounding identity in order to avoid troubles during my adventure. Although reluctant, I considered the man's advice.
On early morning, and after a great breakfast, Alphonse proposed me a young stallion, named Jericho. As soon as I wanted to give him some money to compensate it, I knew I made it wrong. I quickly put away my money and excused myself for this tactlessness. The man began to laugh in front of my crestfallen face and gave me such a pat that I fell down in the snow, head first.
"Sorry," he said by leaning over me to help me to stand up.
As soon as I took his given hand, Alphonse found himself in the snow without understanding how under the amused look of Father François. It was my turn to laugh about the situation... As the calm came back, I thanked again my host and accompanied the clergyman to the exit of the town.
Once far from guards and at a junction, Father François asked me if I had thought about Alphonse's advice.
"I have a vague idea for the family name. I'm always thinking about the first name."
"Can I know your pseudonym?"
"Monsieur Goupil."
"Monsieur Goupil?"
"Yes."
"I hope you will be as cunning as Renart and less cruel than he is."
"Don't be afraid, I have from Renart only his cunning side and his agility to get out from delicate situations. Thank you for all, Father. God be with you."
"God be with you," Father François repeated.
I felt the clergyman look on me while I was galloping away. He didn't know what the purpose of my quest was, but like any other clergyman he probably asked God to give me his grace and to accompany me along my journey before signing himself before leaving on his side.
The weather was sunny, a slight wind was blowing, Jericho was impetuous and the snow didn't seem to slow his crazy pace. The main road was cleared. According to Alphonse, Perpignan was now at a distance of twenty-two French leagues from Mont-Louis; but it was preferable to rest Jericho at mid-road at better.
Nonetheless, he advised me against having a break at Villefranche de Conflent or Prades. Both cities were closely watched; even more Villefranche, which was fortified by Sébastien Vauban like the city of Mont-Louis.
I went south to join the road which was running along a part in the foothills of Mount Canigou. The road became tight, suitable for ambushes and highwaymen attacks. Fortunately in this season, no one dared to step outside for a long time. I went through several villages, slowing down Jericho in order not to tire him more than necessary.
Some hours after my departure, I remarked ramparts at far sight. On the height of the city, there was a fortification.