TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.

Chapter Eight.

Outskirts of Paris

LaHarve Road.

The dark clouds had gathered over the forest, thunder rolled in the distance. The late afternoon calm before the storm had become a wild wind that swept up the fallen leaves around the trees as the horses hooves galloped through an arched treeline towards the LaHarve road.

Deacon Clement Arouet's long flowing cloak bellowed out behind him as he rode as rapid as he could. He could now feel the first droplets of rain as he galloped. The ground was becoming muddy and soft as he sped, but he had to keep going, he knew Cardinal Durand was on his way back from LaHarve to Paris, he had to warn him that Captain Tréville and his musketeers had found a letter from himself to Madame Anon, the king would surely summon him on his arrival back to the palace, it could stir up unrest.

ooOoo

The rickety carriage of Cardinal Durand continued through the thunder and the rain. His ten man entourage on horseback as they rode through the now drenched and muddy terrain.

Durand sat in comfort as he was driven back to Paris, he peered through the carriage window as lightning split the dark sky in two, followed by the loudest earth shattering thunder clap. Durand closed back the drape and sat back, this would hinder his swift arrival back to Paris, just when he wanted to return as swiftly as he could. He needed to initiate his new undertakings swiftly.

Durand looked opposite himself at the two Englishmen, both sitting in silence as they travelled, their very beings rocking from left to right as the carriage trundled through the storm. The two men he would enlist into the Red Guard regiment in order to gather intelligence for the king of England and of course himself.

The Cardinal smirked slightly as he eyed each man. They both resembled the gunpowder conspirator Guy Fawkes who had been executed in 1606 for trying to blow up the Houses Of Parliament in London, they could have indeed passed as brothers. But whom they resembled was trivial, all that was at the forefront of his mind was to rid Paris of Captain Tréville's Musketeers, these two men would indeed aid in the scheme.

"I do hope you men are as impressive as your king says you are gentlemen, I do not take kindly to incompetence. "

The Englishmen swapped glances with one another before looking back at the Cardinal.

"We are here to do a task Your Eminence, we will not fail you, if it be intelligence our king so desires, then it be intelligence he shall have."

Durand grinned as another thunderclap emitted around them.

"I must say gentlemen I am most impressed with your French speaking tongue. I would never know you were both Englishmen. Prey tell me your names."

One of the men grinned slightly.

"James Payne at your service your Eminence." he said bowing his head towards the cleric. My comrade here is...

"Ned Wade your eminence!

The man retorted his name before his friend had burly gotten the words out.

Durand nodded his head.

"Good...now I have a name to go with the faces." he sniggered.

Another clap of thunder rolled overhead as the carriage suddenly came to a halt. Loud voices could be heard yelling into the storm, horses hooves becomming louder.

The two men instantly grabbed their pistols prompting the cardinal to peer through the window and yell towards his red guard captain.

"Venell...prey tell me what is happening, why have we stopped?

The rain was heavier now as another lightning strike lit up the dark sky. Captain Venell had dismounted his stallion and approached the carriage door.

"Your Eminence...its Deacon Arouet, it would seem he has news from the palace."

Arouet suddenly appeared beside Venell, he opened the carriage door and climbed in beside the cardinal. Durand eyed him, his wet clothing making him feel uncomfortable and suddenly cold.

The two Englishmen swapped glances and yielded their weapons rapidly.

Arouet eyed both men, he could feel their eyes boring into his very soul.

"What is it Clement...why do you travel through a storm at such haste? asked the curious cardinal.

The deacon had gotten his breath back and wiped his dampened face with a hankerchief. He glared at the two Englishmen with curious apprehension.

Durand read his mind as he glanced from Arouet to the two men opposite.

"You may speak freely in their presence Clement, they are trusted associates between myself and the King of England.

Arouet sighed heavily and nodded.

Why did I ever become involved in such deception, it is becoming far too dangerous.

"The musketeers have found the missive I conveyed to Madame Anon your Eminence...they have submitted it to the king...I heeded every word spoken. I came to warn you forthwith."

Durand sat back in his seat, his features that of anger and anguish. What would he do now.

"YOU FOOL! you should not have signed such correspondence with your own hand...you have made a grave error Clement."

Arouet was trembling, his face becoming ashen.

"How was I to know the Musketeers would find it Your Eminence...I was just following your instruction."

Durand glared at the fraught deacon, he suddenly grabbed him by his cloak ties and seethed into his terrified features.

"I will not hang because of your mistake you oaf, as soon as we reach the palace the king will no doubt summon me forthwith...what am I supposed to convey to him Clement.?

Durand shook him aggressivly for an answer.

"Answer me!

Arouet began to sob into his hands, his cries becoming a blubbering echo around the carriage.

He suddenly grabbed the Cardinal's hand in his.

"Prey tell me what to do to Your Eminence...I regret my wrongdoing, I have been foolish."

Durand pulled away from the sobbing cleric and sat back, he glanced acoss at the two Englishmen and cocked his head to the right.

The two men knew instantly what they had to do as they grabbed Arouet and threw him from the carriage. Both men themselves leaping after him.

They stood watching as the cleric crawled on his hands and knees on the muddy ground as he struggled to stand, his robes impeding his every attempt to get to his feet.

The entourage finding it rather amusing as a chorus of sniggers emitted into the damp air.

The two Englishmen stood watching his plight.

"Take my hand Clement." sneered Ned suddenly.

Arouet outstretched his arm and was pulled to his feet swiftly.

The cleric frowned with a curious glance at each man as he was manhandled towards the rear of the riding party.

"My horse is ahead of the carriage gentlemen." he mumbled hoarsly.

The two Englishmen remained silent as they dragged the sodden man into the thicket of brambles.

"You will not be needing your horse Clement...you will not be returning to Paris." retorted James Payne.

Clement stared at the two men, anguish had filled his eyes.

"I do not understand...

Ned Wade reached for his pistol and held it to the mans temple.

The clerics features had turned white rapidly, his eyes widened with fear.

"Please...no...what are you doing?...I am...the...Cardinals adviser'.

Lightning lit up the sky followed by another clap of thunder as Ned pulled the trigger muffling the sound of pistol fire.

Clement Arouet's lifeless body dropped to the ground, blood oozing from his head and channeling along with the rain as it continued to fall onto the muddy ground.

The two Englishmen returned to the Cardinal's carriage.

Captain Venell had witnessed the entire slaughter of Deacon Arouet from behind a large oak. He watched as the two men opened the carriage door and jumped in. He turned back to the now sodden body of Arouet, the rainwater puddles around his body were now a scarlet torrent of mud and blood.

Venell returned to his horse and mounted, his mind a clutter of festering curiosity and despondency.

Whoever these two men were showed no mercy, not even to a Holy man.

Durand glanced up as the two Englishmen reclaimed their seats opposite him in the carriage. The men showing no emotion as they caught the Cardinals eyeline.

"Well? murmered the cleric.

"He is nomore Your Eminence. He is with his God."

Durand sat back and eyed the two men. He rapped on the roof of his carriage and yelled up to his horseman.

"Proceed!

They heard Venell's voice roaring into the storm as he ordered the entourage to continue it's journey.

The carriage jolted into motion once again as the thunder rolled above. The sudden hooves and snorts of the horses as they began their pace.

"It seems you have fulfilled your expectations gentlemen." mumered Durand sounding almost jollity. I may require your abilities as I slowly destroy the musketeer regiment."

Ned nodded slightly.

"That is one task we will thrive on seeing through Your Eminence, we will tarry until you give your word."

Durand grinned as he wrung his hands together with haughty exuberance.

"As soon as we reach Paris, you both go with Venell, he has uniforms prepared for your arrival."

Ned smirked slightly and nodded.

"It would seem you have thought of everything Your Eminence."

Durand quirked a brow.

"Quite!

The riding party travelled through the night, the storm had dwindled, just a slight rain still fell. Dawn had begun to show its presence as the distant sky became a murky orange hue. They would reach Paris in a couple of hours.

oooOooo

TBC...

Hi Everyone,

Glad you are all staying with the story.

Thank you so much for the brilliant comments, love then all.

Well just when you thought Richelieu was a devious rogue, another one comes along, but this one is much more evil than he ever was.

What will he have his two spies do next, will he riggle out of poor d'Artagnan's plight? Will the king believe his lies?

And what has he got in store for the rest of the boys?

Speak soon guys,

Take Care

Pippa xxx

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