Old Lucien would not say what had happened up there, nor what the German had told him. He wondered if they had actually spoken. But at least he had dared to go up there; he had confronted not only the steep climb but also his own fears. However, he would not divulge what he had seen. Nor did he relate how Atlas had lain down at the feet of the lion tamer, who had given the dog a command in German, no more than two syllables of one scathing word, perhaps one of those he used on his lions. Whatever the word was, the result was clear. Without even knowing the dog’s name, the tamer had got Atlas to lie down at his feet, as submissive as a newly hatched chick. Maybe that day the lion tamer had only spoken to the dog. But in any case, Lucien swore he would never go there again, that it wasn’t worth the climb. He did not worry everyone by mentioning the sacrificial altar he had seen with the bloody heap of flesh, but he now knew that the German fed his big cats the meat of large mammals, the raw flesh of prey with gleaming muscles that looked human. He thought of the Cabrérac boy, and perhaps others. Men were animals, and animals were meant to eat each other. It was the turbulent cycle of life. He thought it better to keep his suspicions to himself. He didn’t want to terrify everyone. But of one thing Lucien was certain – the lion tamer would never find enough ewes or goats to satisfy his lions. To keep them going, he would have to resort to the slaughter of who knew what creatures – and in large quantities. To nourish eight huge, heavy carnivores every day, eight outsize, greedy wild cats, even a hundred sheep would not suffice …

August 2017

August 2017

The bustling atmosphere was doing him good. Franck had only had three hours’ sleep before he was woken by the sun. He had felt an inordinate need to see people, to feel life around him. Here, in the centre of Limogne, he found himself amid a nice little crowd. He felt revived, just as he had when he switched on his phone and found there were five miraculous bars! The only slight disappointment was that no one had really tried to contact him; he had only received three calls since yesterday evening, and only one voicemail from an unknown number that he would listen to later. He was saving it as a treat.