VI - Council of War

»Go away!« D'Artagnan lay on his bed, face turned to the wall, and rolled his eyes as the knocking on his door repeated insistently. His landlady was a great nuisance, he had no appetite - neither for her nor for her good stew.

He remained obstinately silent when there was a third knock on his bedroom door. He toyed with the idea of simply pulling the blanket over his head and sleeping through this terrible day. But the Chevrette didn't seem to want to let him do that. Broads! Behind Madeleine's beautiful deer-like eyes and bulging breasts was not much common sense to be found.

D'Artagnan didn't move and for the next few moments it remained silent outside his bedroom. Then the handle was pushed and the door swung open. Angrily, d'Artagnan threw his pillow at the Chevrette, who really should have known better after all these years!

However, one blink of an eye later, it was not his pretty landlady who stared at him flabbergasted, but the comte de Rochefort. D'Artagnan stared back with the same expression and sat up. »What do you want now?«

Without any further invitation, Rochefort stepped into the room and loosely threw the pillow back on the bed. »You left something in the study.«

»Is that so? This couldn't wait until tomorrow?« D'Artagnan watched the stable master discontentedly as he pulled up a chair. Apparently, he wanted to settle down here as if it were his own home. The former musketeer, and since a few hours also former lieutenant, remained seated on the edge of the bed and watched his visitor hostilely. Completely unimpressed by this, Rochefort presented a letter with the cardinal's seal. D'Artagnan glanced at it and immediately recognised an order to conscript. Along with the reference to his new rank as a common soldier.

Instead of accepting the documents, he snorted disparagingly. »You really didn't have to bring me this.«

»Before they fell into oblivion, I had to hand them over to you.«

»Are you here just to verify if I'm already packing my belongings and deserting?« D'Artagnan made a sweeping arm movement that completely enclosed the room. »You won't find any travel bundle. I'll be on duty on time tomorrow. Adieu until then!«

Rochefort deposited the letters on the clothes chest at the end of the bed and ignored the ejection. »Yes, I have no doubt about that. I find you here buried in sinister thoughts rather than in the nearest tavern. According to that you want to stay sober for tomorrow.«

»Right! I just want to make the best impression on my new superiors and comrades. They will greatly appreciate me for facing them with a clear mind and don't waver or babble.«

»Not to mention that you are not going to smell of cheap alcohol,« Rochefort added with such a serious nod that it was impossible to say whether he had not at least had consider the possibility.

»I can still afford the expensive wine, Monsieur! Hell, I could buy the whole Louvre! I accepted Richelieu's offer out of philanthropy and a sense of duty.«

Rochefort waved off. »Expect no objection by me, at this late hour it's already too foggy in town for a duel.«

»Even the weather is against me.« D'Artagnan sighed. Instead of arguing further, he asked dejectedly: »Did you know I would be degraded?«

»No.« replied the stable master honestly and d'Artagnan believed him. They were friends despite everything, who else should he have trusted more? Rochefort was obviously not only here for the documents, but to offer help and advice in a bleak situation. »As I said, it is a clever move. You can circulate freely in the palace between patrols and weapons exercises.«

»I might as well do that as an officer and even without having to account to the other guardsmen.«

»Don't deceive yourself. You are going to have less obligations but more time and nobody will ask why you'll be on guard duty in seemingly trivial places. That's what the benefit is all about.«

»If you say so...« D'Artagnan would have liked to be convinced by Rochefort. But it still felt like a punishment, not a strategic advantage. Especially since there was another problem besides his personal difficulties with the red guard. »The Cardinal seems to be seriously ill.«

»Indeed. This time it's more than simple exhaustion or a cold.«

»Do you fear the worst?«

The stable master shook his head at a loss. »It is hard to estimate.«

»I see. That makes it difficult to judge when my deadline for this assignment has expired.« D'Artagnan hesitated, and finally said: »And whether our agreement dies with Richelieu.«

»It's in your papers.« Rochefort pointed at the letter. With a frown, d'Artagnan took it and read it thoroughly. In the end, he found a sentence in such a roundabout way that its meaning was not immediately clear to him. After he had read it a few more times, trying not to silently move his lips while Rochefort was watching him, he looked up. »The convocation already contains the promise of promotion?«

»Under special conditions and after a reasonable period of service.«

»Ha! Neither what is reasonable, nor what these special conditions are, is written down here.«

»It is for His Eminence to judge.«

»The dead make no more judgements.«

»No, but his successor will. You may assume that this man would also appreciate a loyal vassal.«

D'Artagnan was not very satisfied with these uncertain prospects, even though he could always refer to Richelieu's letter and seal in the future. »In fact, you're telling me I'd better hurry.«

»That would be in everyone's best interests, no matter the health of His Eminence.«

»But not in the best interest of the sought-after Odette de la Nièvre,« d'Artagnan mocked, and at the same time he was curious what exactly had happened. She seemed to be a headstrong, adventurous mademoiselle. Certainly she was confident enough to resist her own family. Courageous? D'Artagnan's thoughts wandered back to last night, back to the house they had climbed into on the run. Back to that young woman with the pistol. How determined she had encountered him. »Does she happen to have copper-coloured hair and green eyes?«

Rochefort frowned, obviously confused by the very specific question. »No.«

»That would have been too easy anyway,« mumbled d'Artagnan and changed hastily the subject when he noticed the other's doubtful gaze. »Then what does she look like?«

Fortunately, Rochefort did not dig deeper. Instead, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat. D'Artagnan was given a miniature, the image of a young woman of perhaps twenty years of age. The artist had not wasted much effort on details and had chosen for the portrait the typical pose held sideways, with the head slightly turned towards the viewer, but her gaze still directed past him. Blonde hair was pinned into an elaborate braid, a curl fell over her bare shoulder of flawless alabaster skin. Her face was full, almost roundish, soft and feminine, eyes of indeterminate colour with a shine that made her seem almost angelically removed from the world. The mademoiselle was, well... standard-pretty and characterless.

»Is it her, or one of the many other interchangeable court ladies, and you want to put me to the test?« d'Artagnan asked while studying the miniature in detail and still could not discover any conspicuous features on the person herself. No beauty spots or other blemishes, nothing that would have made her naturally memorable. Instead she wore two gem-set signet rings on her delicate fingers. D'Artagnan couldn't make out more than blots of colour, but he suspected that these were the family crests and insignia of those of la Nièvre and du Plessis - if the portrait did indeed show him a daughter of these houses.

»This is Mademoiselle de la Nièvre, yes.«

»She seems to be... boring.«

»Maybe that's why no one expected her to successfully run away twice.«

D'Artagnan placed the portrait with the documents on the clothes chest. »Is that all you have for me? Tell me the whole story! You already said that she was not abducted. How can you be so sure about that?«

»Because her fiancé did indeed attempt a raptio and failed spectacularly.« The incredulous expression on d'Artagnans face almost made the stable master laugh. »Yes, to climb into the cardinal's palace of all places, offended in one's own honour, in order to abduct an unwilling woman was at best ill-considered. It could have been an idea of yours.«

»I asked for the story, not for your comments,« growled d'Artagnan. »Who is this fiancé and what happened?«

»Fernand de Grinchamps.« Rochefort watched his friend attentively, almost lurking. With irritation, d'Artagnan replied, »Should I know the name?«

»Apparently not.« The stable master seemed strangely relieved for a brief moment, but d'Artagnan was unsure of his assessment, especially as Rochefort quickly added an explanation and distracted him. »He is a young baron who thought he had to obtain justice by himself. The guardsmen foiled the abduction. A lackey and a friend of Grinchamps were arrested.«

»Hurray to my new comrades!«

»Unfortunately, Grinchamps has escaped preliminary and gone into hiding himself.«

»I take back all praise.«

»Who's commenting now, d'Artagnan?«

The former musketeer waved off. »So Grinchamps has failed, and yet Mademoiselle de la Nièvre has been vanished.«

»A few days after that incident, yes. Either she no longer felt safe enough in the palace or she realised that Richelieu had his own plans for her too.«

»I assume that His Eminence was now looking for a more agreeable marriage candidate than Grinchamps was.«

»It was an obvious decision. This family affair was becoming more than tiresome. Someone must have told Odette. Someone must have helped her to leave the palace unrecognised. But she is still in Paris.«

»Are you also sure about that or just hoping that she hasn't left the town already?« D'Artagnan did not expect an answer to that. Rochefort had his ways and means of investigating in the outskirts of Paris and so he continued, »I should search for that 'someone'.«

»This is part of your task, indeed. It should be easier for you if you can win the trust of the guardsmen.« Rochefort raised a hand before the friend could react to it again with wicked sarcasm. »One thing at a time. Rearrange your life, if you find out something useful incidentally, tell me about it.«

D'Artagnan burst out laughing. »You, of all people, talk about rearrangement although the Cardinal's household is apparently in great disarray! Now, moreover, you are infiltrating red guard with a spy. I hope you are aware of what you are requesting.«

»I know that I'm not asking too much and that you secretly eager for this task, for new deeds.« Rochefort rose and strolled to the door, followed by a sinister look from his friend. »So do not expect me to visit you every day to pat your back soothingly.«

The gesture that Rochefort thereupon received by d'Artagnan expressed more than any words of farewell.