Book 6. The Power of Baphomet. The Mysteries of the Ancient Castles. The Escape from the Craig Fadrig Castle E-BOOK

...I'm returning from Scotland. In general, I come from Languedoc, its eastern part, from the Cavallon Castle."
"So, you have returned from foreign lands, apparently it's not sweet there either," suggested the shepherd.
"Yes, shepherd, you are right: it's good everywhere where we are not," Auguste tried to joke.
Auguste took a copper coin out of his purse.
"Here, this is a payment for milk."
"Thank you, your grace! I forgot what coins look like. Poverty all around, royal taxes are simply exorbitant! His Majesty Philip probably thinks we are collecting coins from trees here!"
Auguste decided to rest a little.
"Tell me, shepherd, what do you know about Montsegur."
The shepherd cleared his throat, looked at the mountain with the ruins of the castle.
"Yes, Your Grace, what can I say, the castle was majestic. My parents told me about it. I myself was born when Montsegur was already destroyed."
The shepherd sat down on the ground, spreading the skin of a goat that hung from his shoulders instead of a cloak and slowly began his story:
"Many years ago, the inhabitants of Languedoc, oppressed by the French and the inquisitors, left their homes, abandoned their last possessions and scattered through the forests and mountains. The only safe place was Montsegur Castle. Its owner, Count Raymond VII, died in absolute poverty, leaving no heirs.
After his death, the valiant knight Baron Roger Mirpoix settled in the castle. He rebelled against the Inquisitors, defended the Cathars and gave them shelter and food. Signor Roger, by right a descendant of an old and noble family, bowed his head neither before the king nor before the Pope.
The Dominican monks, faithful dogs of Pope Honorius III, called Montsegur a fortress of heretics and hated the baron. But no one could take the castle by storm, it was impregnable. One day, Señor Roger, with a small detachment, made a sortie to the town of Latuers, where eleven inquisitors stopped in transit. Not a single one remained alive, all eleven members of the tribunal were found hacked to death.
In retaliation, the Seneschal of Carcassonne, with detachments of Provençal and French barons, laid siege to Montsegur. The castle held out for a very long time, food was brought along the mountain paths. It was possible to seize them only with the help of betrayal. The Seneschal of Carcassonne destroyed the castle, and Señor Roger and his associates were burned at the stake. Here is such a story. I was born fifteen years after these events, my parents told me about them."
"Yes, a sad story... I had already heard something similar, but I knew nothing about Baron Mirepoix. Tell me, shepherd, what has happened in recent years to the castle of Blanchefort?"
"Blanchefort is all right," said the shepherd. "I heard that old Comte Louis is alive, although he can barely walk, and he is completely ruined."
"Here, take this," Auguste took a silver coin from his purse and handed it to the shepherd.
The shepherd was embarrassed, not expecting such kindness from an unfamiliar gentleman.
"Take it, don't be embarrassed. All these lands and the castle once belonged to my Toulouse ancestors. It hurts to look at all this!"
"So the illustrious Count Raymond VII is your ancestor?!" The shepherd was simply dumbfounded with surprise.
The shepherd fell to his knees and tried to kiss Auguste's hand.
"Oh, young master, God bless you!"
"Stop it, I don't need such honors!" Auguste withdrew his hand and handed the shepherd a coin.
They said goodbye, Auguste set off on his journey, he had little time left. As he walked towards the Chateau de Blanchefort, he imagined how Uncle Louis would meet him.
"I'll tell Uncle Louis that I'm making my way through the Pyrenees from Aragon to the castle of Cavallon," he thought. "I'll tell my uncle that I haven't received news from home for a long time. And I decided to visit him on the way. In words...