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Dawn caught Bertrand de Gault and Father Justine, the abbot of the monastery in Beze, accompanying him, on a country road past rare trees, still bare from winter, vast fields with ravens circling above them with a loud cawing, and rare fetid streams that suddenly appeared in front of them as if from nowhere. The fat monk, woken up in the middle of the night, sat uncertainly in the saddle, falling over first on one side, then on the other, from which his sleepy slumber stopped for a moment. Bertrand, looking cheerful and fresh, impatiently urged on his horse, occasionally throwing mocking glances at his companion.

At noon, they passed a small town, in which there was tension and hidden anger. While the abbot quenched his insatiable appetite at one of the inns, Bertrand, who had a quick bite to eat, walked around the city, listening and looking closely at the excitement surrounding him. There was talk of the king, who was almost openly vilified for having an affair wit
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