The US Military AcademyWest Point, New YorkMarch 12

Cadet Corps Commander Mathew Dwayne Jameson walked asfast as he could, stepping carefully so as not to slip on the ice and endup unceremoniously on his ass. As he made his way across the campus,his mood matched the leaden sky that was threatening more snow.What could the Man want to see him about? The e-mail said, "See meASAP." Did he want to tell him his thesis and distinguished graduatestatus were in serious trouble? That would not be an acceptable situationand outcome! DJ, as many called him informally, was expected to bea distinguished graduate (known as a DG) just like his father andgrandfather had been.

Entering the building, he hurried down the long hall, and thehorseshoe taps on his heels, allowed by virtue of his rank as cadet corpscommander, echoed off the marble-lined passageway to his destination.He stopped at the last door on the left. The brass plate on the massivewooden door proclaimed it to be the office of Paul Brown, PhD, Col.USA Retired, and History Department Chairman. Just as he raised hisfist to knock on the door, he was startled by Professor Brown's boomingvoice. "Come in, DJ."

DJ entered the large office, which was lined with bookshelves. Thepungent, sweet smell of stale pipe tobacco greeted him as he crossed theroom and stood at attention in front of the big mahogany desk strewnwith opened books and papers.

"Sir, I came as soon as I received your e-mail."

Tossing a manuscript onto his desk, the slightly balding retiredcolonel looked over the glasses perched on the end of his pointed noseand said, "Be at ease, DJ. Pull up a chair and sit." Cracking his knucklesand rubbing his hands together lightly, he placed them palms downon his desk, leaned forward, and said, after a pregnant pause, "I'vefinished reading your thesis—The Albigensian Crusade? That wasn't atrue military force-on-force campaign. You know that. This is nothinglike the abstract you turned in seeking approval to proceed with yourresearch!"

Professor Brown rolled his chair back, stood up, turned his back onDJ, and stared out of the window at the Hudson River below, watchingthe snowflakes falling ever so slowly. DJ remained silent and waited;this was his fourth year at the academy, and he had been in ProfessorBrown's office many times before. He knew the Man had more tosay. He had visions of his DG status melting away like many of thesnowflakes landing on the office windowpane Professor Brown wasstaring through.

Professor Brown sat back down. Picking up the manuscript andturning over a few pages, he said, "Explain! Why is it so differentfrom your proposal? And what in the world do the words 'At the endof seven hundred years, the Laurel will be green once more' sung bya thirteenth-century troubadour in your introduction have to do withthe military orders of battle in the Crusades against the Muslims of theMiddle East?"

DJ squared his shoulders, came to attention in his seat, andreplied, "Sir, nothing, sir. However, more than two hundred maleand female Cathar civilians, given the choice of being burned alive orrenouncing their particular Gnostic understanding of Christianity andits relationship to humanity, do have meaning for me. That's not onlyas a devout Catholic but also as a professional soldier trying to makesense out of the Catholic Christian Church's military actions againsta Christian populace. As for the song of the troubadour, I believe itprobably meant it would take more than seven hundred years to erasethe stain of the pope's actions on the Christian world."

"That's all well and good, DJ, but it adds nothing to a descriptionof the military aspects of this particular crusade. Scrap it! I believe yourgrandfather would concur, don't you?"

DJ's paternal grandfather, retired US Army Lieutenant GeneralMathew Jameson and former history professor at West Point, hadprovided an endless storybook of military history for DJ's formativeyears. Now about to graduate from the academy, hopefully with honorsas a history major, DJ sure as hell didn't want to screw it up.

DJ replied, "Sir, yes, sir. I guess I got caught up in the melodramaof the historical facts. However, the pope ordering the extirpation of aChristian population because of their particular religious beliefs bothersme." DJ stood up. Visibly agitated, he began pacing back and forth infront of the large desk. "I didn't put this in my paper, but according toinquisition records, Montségur was the Cathar bank and last stronghold,containing vast amounts of gold, silver, donated money, and possiblyother, more valuable, undefined treasure, including secret documentsdetrimental to the Catholic Church. Yet there is no record as to whathappened to any of those treasures."

Professor Brown leaned forward, picked up his pipe from theashtray, lit it, and blew a perfect bluish-white smoke ring, which driftedslowly up to the ceiling. Then he said, "Well, even if you had excellentdocumentation on these tidbits of information regarding undefinedtreasure and ancient documents, I wouldn't approve your putting thatinformation in the final version of this paper. Even though it's notstrictly about military tactics and strategy, your paper expounds verywell on the political and ethical aspects of war. I like that slant of it,despite the fact that you strayed from your original abstract."

DJ sat down again, relieved Professor Brown seemed to approve ofhis paper. He was, however, resigned to the fact that the information hehad begun to uncover would have to wait for another day and occasionto be investigated in more detail so he could reveal his results.

Professor Brown got up from his chair and walked to the corner ofhis office, where, DJ remembered, cadet legend had it he manufacturedcannon barrel cleaner and passed it off as—

"Would you like a cup of coffee, DJ? It's fresh. I just made itabout—um, let me see," he said, looking at his pocket watch. "Aboutsix hours ago."

"No, thank you, sir. I had a cup just before I left to come here. Iwould like a Coke if you have one."

"In the small fridge over there in the corner under the window.Help yourself."

DJ hated lying; however, he had sampled the professor's coffee oncebefore during his plebe year and swore he could still taste it.

DJ sensed Professor Brown was about to drop the other shoe, andhe was right. Professor Brown sat upright, stirred his coffee very slowly,and said, "You do intend to present your work at the academy's projectsday, don't you?"

"Sir, yes, sir! Don't you think I should? Sir, I know my thesis, asyou pointed out, delves into the Albigensian Crusade, which was not amilitary crusade in the strictest sense, but I believe the true importanceof this particular crusade involves the reasons why the Catholic Churchchose this course of action against a civilian Christian populace. I'vedone my research, and I believe I can hold my own in the competition."

Taking a sip of coffee, Professor Brown said, "Well, this yearmembers of Georgetown University, a Jesuit institution, will compete,and some of its faculty will act as judges. Your work will certainly beunder the microscope!"

Popping the top off his Coke, DJ replied, "It doesn't matter to me,sir. I'm confident that my research has been thorough, and I wouldn'tcare if the pope himself led the judging team. As a matter of fact, I'dlove to know if he would have endorsed the actions of Pope ClementIII in dealing with the Cathari."

Professor Brown smiled and replied, "Well, I believe I can prettymuch guarantee His Holiness won't be here. However, you may get theopportunity to ask him in person when you arrive at your first dutystation after graduate school."

DJ reacted as the impact of those words hit him. "Sir?"

"Congratulations, DJ. Cadet assignments came from headquartersthis morning. After graduation, a Rhodes Scholarship in history atOxford University awaits you; following that, you will report to the USmilitary attaché's office at the US embassy in Rome."

DJ sat there grinning from ear to ear like the Cheshire cat in Alice'sAdventures in Wonderland. His senior thesis and his DG status wereboth still on track, and the icing on the cake—a plum assignment onthe horizon.

"Thank you, sir. That's great news. With your permission, sir, I'dlike to go back to my room and call my family."

"Of course, DJ, go. Make your call, and then get to work revisingyour thesis as we discussed and prepare for projects day. Give my regardsto your mother."

DJ hurried back to his room. About to graduate from the academywith honors as a history major, DJ could see for miles from his cloud-nineperch. He dialed the number he had dialed so many times before.It rang twice before his mother answered.

"Mama, are you sitting down?"

There was a long pause. "Yes, why?"

DJ replied, "I have something to tell you."

* * *

Professor Brown picked up the phone as soon as DJ had left anddialed a familiar number—the number of Father Thomas Russo (SJ).Father Russo was a priest of The Society of Jesus (Latin: Societas Iesu,S.J., SJ or SI), a Christian male religious order of the Roman CatholicChurch. The members are called Jesuits. "Father Russo, Paul Brownhere. Cadet Jameson, the student we've been discussing, just left myoffice. We talked about his thesis, and I let him know some of thejudges for the competition would be coming from your institution.I succeeded in getting him to modify his thesis and in getting himassigned to Rome, as we discussed. He will, however, be spending timeat Oxford University on a Rhodes Scholarship before his assignmentto Rome."

The voice on the other end said, "Thank you, Paul. Two of myagents in Oxford will be able to shadow him there. I have great faith intheir abilities. I leave for my new post at the Vatican in August, but I'llattend the academy's projects day as one of the judges. Did his researchuncover anything definitive about the documents?"

Professor Paul Brown, US Military Academy faculty memberand secret Knight of Malta, replied, "No, but I'll be monitoring hispaper revisions closely prior to projects day. I can monitor him untilgraduation. After that he's yours. I'll call you if I have anything new."

The voice on the other end of the phone replied, "Thank you,brother. I know I can rely on you. You have not disappointed me inthe past."

The US Military AcademyWest Point, New YorkMay 15—Projects Day

"Room, ten-hut!" The auditorium full of cadets responded andstood up at attention as the auditorium door opened and a generalofficer entered.

"Please be seated, ladies and gentlemen," said Brigadier GeneralSamuel Prescott as he approached the lectern in the corps auditorium."Remember, butterflies are natural. Everybody gets them, even me, still.Use that nervous energy to your advantage. Use it to get the butterfliesin your gut flying in formation. Keep this advice in mind when youare about to give a command briefing to one or more senior officers. Itwill work wonders for that situation too. You've spent many hours onyour individual projects; no one knows your project better than you.Remember that and you'll do great in the competition. Good luck!"

As dean of the West Point Academic Board, one of General Prescott'stasks was to provide inspiration to cadets in situations such as theprojects day competition. He always made an appearance just prior tothe start of the competition before any of the outside contestants arrivedin the auditorium.

DJ knew the advice about butterflies and nervous energy was sound.He also knew a first place finish in this competition would assurehis DG attainment; however, sitting in the auditorium, waiting andwatching the intense grilling the competitors were getting from thejudges, he sensed his own butterflies trying to break formation. Now itwas his turn in the barrel. DJ stood up, and in perfect military fashion,squaring all his corners, he made his way to the lectern as the contestmoderator started to announce him as the next and last contestant. DJhad practiced the timing of this move so that he arrived at the lecternat the exact moment the moderator announced his name. He took adeep breath and began his presentation.

"General Prescott, Father Russo, distinguished members of thejudging panel, my fellow contestants, and fellow cadets, good afternoon.Why would the Roman Catholic Church mount a full-scale militarycrusade against the Christian Cathar populace in France?"

As soon as DJ finished and before the applause subsided, FatherTomas Russo, a priest of the Society of Jesus (SJ) and chief competitionjudge from Georgetown University, fired the first volley of questionsat DJ.

"Cadet Jameson, Montségur was the last Albigensian stronghold tofall to the forces of Simon de Montfort. It supposedly was the repositoryof Cathar treasure. Did your research reveal anything about this?"

DJ could feel his butterflies getting ready to fly off in all directions.He took a big breath and, in his mind, answered, Sir, that's an interestingquestion—especially since my research paper did not even touch on thatsubject.

However, realizing the question posed by Father Russo was one hewould have to answer very diplomatically, he replied aloud, "The shortanswer, sir, is yes. However, I can only tell you I opine the subjects ofCathar treasure and the fall of Montségur are worthy of a researchproject of their own, and I hope to concentrate my graduate studieson that subject. However, my primary and only interest with theAlbigensian Crusade for my senior project was the conflict and itscauses. It was the only crusade wherein Christian military forces foughtnon-Muslim Gnostic Christian civilians. I believe the question of whythe pope would mount a crusade to extirpate such a populace is a mostgermane and compelling question deserving an answer."

Father Russo, seemingly annoyed by these remarks, repliedbrusquely with another question. "Regarding your short answer tomy original question, Mr. Jameson, can you tell us exactly what yourresearch did reveal regarding Cathar treasure?"

"Nothing of any substance, sir. My research project was only anacademic investigation and reportage of what occurred during thatparticular crusade. Was there Cathar treasure? If yes, what was thetreasure? These are good questions—however, for me, sir, thesequestions are moot at this juncture."

"Well, eh—thank you for your presentation, Cadet Jameson. Sinceyou were our last contestant, the judges will retire to tally the scores forthe presentations."

* * *

Light rain pelted the windows of the cadet exchange cafeteria'scoffee shop. The sullen gray sky outside matched DJ's mood perfectly.Facing the window, and silently staring out onto the academy paradeground, he mulled over in his mind the just ended competition. Ashe thought about the questioning from Father Russo, he noticed areflection in the window. He could see Father Russo and ProfessorBrown talking together at the entrance to the cafeteria. DJ thought hedetected anger in the gestures of the men. He then became aware ofsomeone walking up behind him. He turned slowly just as Father Russoasked, "May I join you, Cadet Jameson?"

Astonished, DJ stood up and replied, "Sir, yes, sir, Father, pleasesit down."

Father Russo replied, "Thank you. I saw you sitting here alone, so Ithought I'd come over and congratulate you on your first-place finish.The results have not yet been made public, but congratulations are inorder."

"Thank you, Father. That is the ray of sunshine I needed tobrighten this gloomy day. It is very satisfying news!" DJ couldn't helpbut wonder about this surprise cafeteria visit from Father Russo and theconversation between Father Russo and Professor Brown. He had aneerie feeling the visit would have taken place even if he had placed lastin the competition. Especially curious about the significance of FatherRusso's questions during the competition, DJ decided to ask, "FatherRusso, forgive me for being so blunt, but I omitted any reference toCathar treasure in my paper or presentation, as suggested by ProfessorBrown, yet you pressed me fairly hard on that issue. Is the Cathartreasure aspect of the Albigensian Crusade truly important? Were youand Professor Brown just now discussing this issue? I noticed you andhim discussing something just a few moments ago."

Father Russo stood up from the table, visibly annoyed by DJ'squestions. "No, no, I just met your Professor Brown at the start ofthe competition and was just briefly letting him know the results ofthe judging, and—ah ... look, Mr. Jameson, I must get to a meeting.Congratulations again, and good luck in your upcoming assignments.Perhaps we'll meet again in Rome."