Julia Navarro - The Brotherhood Of The Holy Shroud

"-had it because years earlier the other Geoffroy brought it back from the Holy Land and kept it in the family home. That's well within the realm of possibility."

'Actually, it isn't. The precept of Normandy was a Templar. If he had possessed the relic, it would have belonged to the Temple, not to him or his family. We have a great deal of documentation on that Geoffroy, because he remained faithful to de Molay and the Temple. Let's not let our imagination run away with us."

"But there may have been some reason he didn't turn the shroud over to the Temple."

"I doubt it. I'm sorry to have confused you; in my opinion it's not a problem of spelling, it's that the two Geoffroys belonged to different families. And even if they were related, that would not account for the family's possession of the shroud, as I've just explained to you."

"I'm going to Lirey."

"Well, that's fine. Anything else?"

"Professor Marchais, thank you-you may not agree, but I think you've just unveiled part of an enigma."

By the time Elianne Marchais saw Ana Jimenez to the door she had once again confirmed her opinion of reporters: shallow, for the most part uneducated, and given to the most idiotic fantasies. It was no wonder there was so much rubbish printed in the newspapers.

Ana arrived in Troyes the day after her meeting with Professor Marchais. She rented a car to drive from there to Lirey and was surprised to find just a tiny village, with no more than fifty people living in it.

She wandered through what remained of the old seigneurial manor, her hands stroking the ancient stones, vaguely hoping the contact with them might inspire her. Lately she'd been letting herself be carried along partly by intuition, without planning things beforehand.

She approached a nicely dressed older woman walking her dog along the side of the road.

"Bonjour."

The old lady looked her over from head to toe. "Bonjour."

"This is a lovely place."

"It is, but the young people don't think so-they prefer the city."

"Well, there is more work in the city."

"Work is where one wants to find it. Here in Lirey the land is good. Where are you from?"

"I'm from Spain."

'Ah! So I thought, from the accent. But you speak French very well."

"Thank you."

"And what are you doing here? Are you lost?"

"Oh, no, not at all." Ana smiled. "I came specifically to see this place. I'm a reporter, and I'm writing a story on the Shroud of Turin, and since it appeared here, in Lirey-"

"Hmmph! That was hundreds and hundreds of years ago! Now they say the shroud is not authentic, that it is a forgery, that it was painted here."

'And what do you think?"

"I frankly could not care less-I am an atheist, and I've never been interested in the stories of saints or relics."

"No, neither have I, but I was sent out to do this story, and work is work."

"But here you will find nothing. The fortress-what remains of it-well, you see it there."

'And there are no archives or documents on the de Charny family?"

"In Troyes perhaps, although the descendants of the family live in Paris."

"Live?"

"Well, there are many branches of the family."

"How could I find them?"

"I don't know. They don't have much to do with the village now. Once in a while one of them will come around, but not often. Three or four years ago a young man was here. Such a handsome boy! We all came out to see him."

"Is there anyone here who could tell me more?"

The woman gestured down the way. "Ask in that house at the end of the valley. Monsieur Didier lives there-he oversees the de Charny lands."

Ana thanked her and began walking briskly toward the house the woman had indicated, her anticipation mounting with every step. She was certain that in this unassuming little place she would find the nexus between past and present-and concrete evidence to support her suspicions.

Monsieur Didier was a man of about sixty. Tall and strong-looking, with gray hair and a stern face, he looked at Ana mistrustfully.

"Monsieur Didier, I'm a reporter and I'm writing a story on the Holy Shroud," Ana began. "I've come to Lirey because it was here that the Shroud of Turin first appeared in Europe. I know this land belonged to the de Charny family, and I'm told you work for them."

"Your business is of no concern to me, miss," he said, clearly annoyed. "What do I care what you're doing? You think I'm going to talk about the de Charnys because you're a reporter?"

"I don't think I'm asking you to do anything wrong, sir. I know you must be proud that the shroud was discovered here in Lirey."

"We don't give a fig about the shroud, young lady- none of us. If you want to find out about the family, go talk to them in Paris. We're not gossips."

"Monsieur Didier, you've misunderstood me. I'm not looking for gossip at all, I just want to write a story in which this town and the de Charny family played an important part. They owned the shroud, it was displayed here, and… well, I should think you'd all feel proud of that."

"Some of us are." Tall and robust, the woman who had just joined Didier in the doorway looked a bit younger than he, and a good deal friendlier.

"I'm afraid you've awakened my husband from his nap, and that makes him grumpy," she said to Ana with a warm smile. "Come in, come in. Would you like some tea, coffee?"

Ana stepped into the house before the invitation could be overruled by the old grump, who finally retreated to the parlor with a parting glare as his wife led the reporter to the kitchen.

There, Ana repeated the purpose of her visit while Madame Didier poured coffee for them both.

"The de Charnys have been the lords of this land for as long as anyone can remember," Madame Didier told Ana as they sat down. "You should go to the church- that's where you'll find information on them, and of course in the historical archives in Troyes."

For a good while she went on to talk about life in Lirey, bemoaning the flight of the younger generation. Her two sons lived in Troyes; one was a doctor, the other worked in a bank. She proceeded to detail the affairs of her entire family while Ana listened patiently letting her babble on. Finally she managed to steer the conversation back on track.

"What are the de Charnys like?" she asked her hostess. "It must be exciting when they come to visit."

"Oh, there are so many different branches now. We don't know many of them, and they don't come around much, but we watch after their land and their interests here. They're a bit stuffy, you know, like all aristocrats. A few years ago a distant relative came- what a handsome young man! And so charming, so kind. Not at all like the others. He came with the superior of the church. He sees more of them than we do- the superior, I mean. We deal with an administrator who lives in Troyes, Monsieur CapeU. I'll give you his address so you can call him."

Two hours later, Ana left the Didiers' house with little more information than she'd come with. She decided to try her luck at the parish church, hoping the superior would see her. The birth records there might tell her what she needed to know.

The parish priest Pere Salvaing turned out to be a cheery septuagenarian who seemed more than happy to have a visitor.

"The de Charnys have always been linked to this place," he told Ana. "They have continued to own the land, although it's been centuries since they lived here."

"Do you know the current family?"

"Some of them. One of the branches, the one that's most closely linked to Lirey, has some important people. They live in Paris."

"Do they come here often?"

"No, really they don't. It's been years since any of them have been here."

"Madame Didier, in Lirey, told me that three or four years ago a very handsome, nice young man was here, a member of that family."