Swordplay
By JeanTre16
Chapter 11
Throne Room
Unfettered pony on alar flight
Favored maiden in the night
Wispy forests passing blight
Darkened boughs in endless sight
Riding bidden journey's plight
Destined to the morning's light
Jacqueline opened her eyes to the realization that she stood chained to the damp dungeon wall. Her now uncloaked head allowed her sight, confirming her assumption of where she had been taken the night before. She had been captured and enchambered somewhere in a vast labyrinth of caverns beneath the castle. While somewhere in the remote bed chambers above royalty would begin another day, the stark reality sunk in that she awoke for the last time. Mazarin would see her hung today. She had arrived at the end of her life and service to her country. Her service to her king, somewhere up there above her dark cell, was over.
Her thoughts transversed the upper chambers and continued to rise heavenward. Now there was only one king left she would answer to. She desperately felt alone before her maker's throne. Ironically, contrary to the king and country she had lived her life for, it was now the King of kings she stood in service to in the end. Surrendering her thoughts in a whisper, she prayed, "Let my service be pleasing to you, my King. All I ask is that you have mercy on France, her king and the ones I love." No sooner had she spoken these words than the soft glowing morning sun shone in on her. It warmed her chilled body. At that moment, she was sure she had felt the smile of God touch her face. Jacqueline Roget d'Artagnan smiled back.
In the upper rooms of the palace, the king sat on his balcony outside his royal chambers. Captain Duval knocked softly on his door and entered. "Sire," Duval announced. "I am here on behalf of your mother who wishes to have breakfast with you before escorting you to the throne room."
"Duval." Louis' gaze had not moved from the growing light coming over the horizon. "Have you ever watched a sunrise?"
"Sire?" Duval questioned. Then perceiving his king in distant thought, he responded in like, "Ah, yes, I have seen many. Today's is among the most splendid, I see."
"I've noticed, Duval," Louis continued his reflection, "that the sun does not rise first on the king. It rises for all of France." Turning to his Musketeer captain, Louis' expression became poignant. "France's king should not be the only one privileged to the good things of God—like justice, mercy and goodness. These things, like the goodness of the rising sun are for all France. Duval, as France's king, it is my job before God to see to that."
It had been a difficult night of keeping ahead of Mazarin's Musketeers and Louis' words warmed the captain. "Sire," Duval genuinely offered, "you are noble, my king, and I pray God give you wisdom to carry out your calling." After a slight pause he added, "But there are many powerful men in France, who although not as powerful as you, Sire, do not share those thoughts of good will for all. Even within these walls there are those who no doubt hold evil intents towards loyal citizens." The aging man's words were thick with thoughts of Mazarin's injustices. Last night, the Cardinal had failed to discredit the good Musketeer's name, but he had succeeded in yet another injustice toward Jacqueline Roget.
"Then that will be the challenge God has set before me." Louis thought back to a resolve he had recently made. He rose to his feet and voiced, "I shall have to keep a closer eye on them. Come, Duval, my friend, let us rise with the sun to the occasion."
From another palace room, Anne let a tired Charles out into the still quiet hallway. They had spent a long night in intense conversation, and as a result, there was something of extreme gravity the queen had yet to discuss with her son—King Louis. D'Artagnan had come to her late the evening before with news the former regent dreaded, but knew was true in her heart.
For some time the loyal soldier had borne certain secrets that had lain unspoken of before others. The trouble was, that the truth ran deeper than anyone had suspected. D'Artagnan had previously kept details from the queen on the road to Reims because of an oath of secrecy that had held his tongue from revealing more any sooner. Yet, now that Jacqueline's circumstances were desperate, he was compelled to risk Anne's anger at laying the details before her. He began with a heaviness of heart, bearing his lengthy disclosure that led them clear into the dawn. In the end, although Anne was greatly disturbed to hear his words, she was much too numbed with the truth of them to be angry with the man who delivered them.
The queen had already spoken with Louis once; yet, it was only in brief passing and only to encourage Louis in Jacques favor. With this new revelation, Anne was praying he would exhibit mercy, more than justice, in regard to Leponte's request. When the queen consented to speak with Louis on the full weight of the matter, d'Artagnan offered to accompany her. But she insisted she would see to it herself. As the former regent watched the man who had borne so many of her past grievances leave, she retreated into her chamber to ready herself to bear this one alone.
Shortly thereafter, Anne and her son, the king, met privately over breakfast. Neither of them touched their food. There were things on their minds other than the delicacies set before them—troubling things. Anne began their conversation, "Louis." She looked at her son, hesitating to go on. "Jacques Leponte will not be coming to court today as originally planned."
"What do you mean, Mother?" Louis queried. "If Jacques is not coming to make his personal request owed to him by the king, there's no need for the court."
Discreetly his mother continued, "Jacques will not be there, but instead Charles d'Artagnan will be carrying a personally signed request from Leponte. In his own handwriting, Jacques Leponte has requested the release and pardon of a certain woman named Jacqueline Roget."
"Jacqueline Roget?" Louis sat there astonished at what his mother had just said. "Where is Jacques and why won't he be delivering his request in person?" Louis' questions seemed to flow faster than he was willing to await their answers. "Who is this woman he wants pardoned? And how did you come to know of all this?"
Not knowing where to begin, Anne looked around to make sure they were in complete privacy and said, "Louis, when you have lived long enough, you will discover we all bear…secrets." Her voice trailed off.
Louis placed his napkin on his tray. "Mother, you are confusing me. First you say Jacques won't be here. Then you say the legendary d'Artagnan bears Leponte's request for the pardon of some woman. Now you completely lose me by alluding that there are secrets you bear. You are frightening me. Was there something in that coffee of yours this morning?" Rising from the table, he demanded, "I want to know what this is all about!"
In this rare moment, Anne's troubled countenance did her beauty no credit. She wore the appearance of a woman with the weight of the past, present and future in her trust. "Sit down, Louis." She fidgeted. "It's about time I told you some things that you should know."
An hour later, the newly crowned king of France and his court entered the throne room. "Attention!" a sentry called loudly, "King Louis XIV is presented." Charles d'Artagnan was there as promised. His son, Captain Duval, Siroc, and Ramon entered the room behind the king and took place alongside the adjoining walls to the throne.
"Your Majesty." Mazarin approached the king as he entered the room, and for the king's ears only, he spoke, "Before proceeding to the planned hearing, I have a matter of utmost importance to bring before you."
Unsure of what Mazarin had planned, the young ruler approached the throne. "Mazarin?" Louis awaited the Cardinal's meaning for his interjection.
Mazarin nodded for his guards and called, "Bring in the prisoner." A beautiful, but dejected looking woman was roughly brought into the throne room. Her appearance was proof of her recent treatment. Her hair was unkempt and her dress was ragged. She was covered from head to foot by the deeds of the night before. The sight brought a measure of gasps from those standing around the room. D'Artagnan was all but held back from rushing to her side by Ramon and Siroc's tightened grips. The Musketeers and the queen were obviously shaken. As the guards approached the foot of the throne with the prisoner, they made her kneel before King Louis XIV.
Louis slowly stood to his feet with a look of stun. "What is the meaning of this?" he called for an explanation, trembling in his voice. Then with a shift toward anger he looked at his premier. "I demand to know, Mazarin!"
"Your Majesty," began the Cardinal, "this woman was arrested snooping around the Musketeer's garrison last night during your birthday celebration." Mazarin assumed the boy's anger stemmed from his distaste in the situation's unpleasantness. Ignoring the measure, His Eminence withdrew a scrolled picture of Jacqueline Roget and continued. "She is wanted for the murder of one of my captains." He coolly looked around the room to make sure everyone present had registered his declaration. Then returning his emotionless gaze to the king, he stated, "If you would sentence her, I will quickly have her removed from your presence and executed."
"Executed?" spurned Louis, still showing his piqued irritation. "This is the Roget woman, is it not?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," cautiously answered Mazarin, surprised by Louis' sustained reaction being coupled by apparent knowledge on this inconsequential woman.
"Mazarin," Louis gave command. "Bring me the order for the arrest of this one, Jacqueline Roget." The Cardinal brought the official order giving him the right to hold this woman under arrest over to the young king. The self-important man scoffed at the trodden woman as he passed by her in heightened view.
"Thank you, Mazarin," Louis acknowledged, without being able to look the man in the eyes. "That will be all." The perpetrator clad in red stepped back.
Holding the arrest order at his side, Louis looked at the menagerie before him and stepped in for a closer look at the disheveled woman. Slowly he stooped down, placed his hand under her chin and lifted her eyes to his in expectation. The Cardinal had supposed the boy had not had many dealings with criminals before. He looked on with expectation as the boy examined this murderess. But others asked themselves if there was something else their king had seen in that face as he studied her. Had he recognized the loyal face of one of his beloved Musketeers, Jacques Leponte? Or had he simply seen a sheep being sent to the slaughter by Mazarin? There were many thoughts in the room as to what he had seen, and as to why he did what he did next. "Guards," he called, "release this woman!" Immediately two men fell in to unlatch her shackles and stood back. Jacqueline's eyes met the king's once again and held them in question as to why he had released her.
From her gaze, Louis lifted his head and looked the room over to rest upon the legend's son. Louis read the anguish in his face. "D'Artagnan," Louis spoke with compassion. "Come help this woman." At this, the two Musketeers on either side of the distressed husband released their hold on his arms for the first time since Jacqueline had entered the room. They had been the only thing holding him back from racing over to her any sooner than that moment. The suddenly free to act young man quickly covered the distance that had been too long between them and encased her trembling form in his tender strength.
Then holding the order up for all in the room to see, he spoke loudly and scanned the room with his voice, "I, King Louis XIV, do hereby release from arrest this woman, Jacqueline Roget—" and with a slight pause he glanced toward the husband and his wife and added for their ears alone, "—d'Artagnan." With those words Louis rent the arrest order in two.
Surprised murmurs were heard throughout the room. Mazarin looked shocked, but held his ground as a growing look of malcontent filled his stance. Raising his voice to be heard over the noise, Louis spoke again with mingled emotion. "D'Artagnan," and indicated the elder of the namesakes by an outstretched hand in his direction. "In your possession, I believe you have a hand-written signed request by one, Jacques Leponte, for the acquittal of this woman."
"Yes, I do, Sire," the legendary Musketeer stated and brought the letter forward.
Louis gave his subject a strained look as he received the letter. D'Artagnan bowed his head in silent acknowledgment and stepped to the back of the room. His King's countenance had made it clear that his mother had spoken to him as he requested. His deed as father and Musketeer was done, and its consequence awaited him. The young ruler opened the letter, signed it and declared, "I hereby fulfill the king's promise to grant the aforementioned loyal servant of the crown, Jacques Leponte, his request by fully acquitting this woman from her accused crime. In this, I return to her full citizenship and any rights she has been denied." He signed the letter and handed it to the man and his wife before him for safe keeping.
Taking a fresh parchment, the acquitter jotted something down, rolled it and also handed it to the son of the legend. Still holding Jacqueline, d'Artagnan looked up at his king in question of what this gesture possibly meant. Louis spoke to him quietly, "You will make sure this is properly delivered." He shared one last long look with his loyal soldier, glanced at the battled, but noble woman beside him and stepped back to address the room.
Mazarin opened his mouth to say something, but no one heard what it was because Louis declared, "Dismissed!" And with a stern, unmoving determination on his face, he briefly looked around the murmuring room, turned and walked down the hall.
Duval watched him as he strode off. He observed that the newly crowned king looked somehow taller and walked a little surer than just a day before. The captain was convinced had his father been there that day, he would have been proud to see his son. He was young, but he had begun his official reign on sure footing.
King Louis glanced back over his shoulder for one last look, as he strode down the hallway. Martin Duval could read the cares of France in the young king's face. The king's Musketeer captain bowed to acknowledge his loyal support in the days and years to come. He could see the budding ruler nod ever so slightly in receipt of his gesture, and then look once again toward the younger d'Artagnan and Jacqueline. The seasoned soldier watched him swallow hard at their sight before turning his back and disappearing in the distance. That look, the older man could not interpret. He suspected the secret lie in the words Louis had placed in his favored soldier's hands. Whatever the king had penned, he could only guess, for its contents were quietly ushered away. Duval wondered.
Then his thoughts wandered to the unhappy man in red giving the room a final look before exiting quietly through a side door. Captain Duval had not won the entire battle over Cardinal Mazarin, but Jacqueline had won her freedom. And that was something…a huge something. Duval took in a deep breath and sighed at the victory. His Eminence had given King Louis XIV divine authority at his coronation, and Louis had begun his reign with clear intent of his positioning with his subordinate. It was he, not Mazarin who was in charge.
It all made Duval's head swim. He did not envy the job King Louis XIV had before him, but remembering his conversation with the king earlier that morning gave him hope. He was young, but he had gotten off to a good start. Captain Duval recalled something he had recently heard Ramon say. It seemed to fit.
Rest well my soul,
Knowing the sun will indeed rise again
On your beloved Musketeers!
So the adventures of the Musketeers continue…
Read the sequel to this story,
As Jacqueline wrestles with her identity
And the meaning behind
The Sign of the Cross!
http://ybbeyond. a Blessed Christmas, 2006!