Tavington: The Legacy: Chapter 24: "The End of the Beginning"
"It has all worked out perfectly, Talleyrand," Victor Alexander Carrenworth said with a characteristically twisted smile, staring out into the Indian night rather than at the man he spoke to. "You played your part to perfection. The Council of Elder Dragoons believes that you are a dangerous conspirator against monarchy in Europe and that you have persuaded Tavington to join your little crusade."
Talleyrand took a sip from his glass of wine, and replied with barely disguised delight, "You mean?"
"Yes." Carrenworth spun around and held up one of his golden daggers. "The Council has given me the order to kill Tavington."
Talleyrand smiled. "So, our plan finally comes to fruition. Not that I ever doubted it would. Now, once Tavington is dead and you are successfully installed on the throne of France."
"I am obligated to honor my end of the bargain," said the Golden dragoon quickly, finishing the sentence so that the Frenchman need not trouble himself with it. "As you know, I quite conveniently did away with your older brother. Tavington saw to that. All that is required are some signatures on various assorted documents, Duke de Talleyrand."
"And the laws of inheritance and succession?" Talleyrand reminded his partner in underhanded doings.
"Of course." Victor coughed, then noticing Talleyrand's concerned look, quickly snapped, "I'm fine!"
Victor turned back to the window. Stars sparkled brightly against a black velvet sky. The noise of carriages and far-off conversations floated through the saffron-scented air. He felt oddly at peace.
He had first met Talleyrand at the court of Versailles during his family- imposed exile. Victor had been ambitious. Talleyrand had been angry with the hand fate had dealt him. Both were dissatisfied with their positions in the grand scheme of things. In a way, they had been made for each other.
The grand plot had been many years in the making. What began as a simple attempt to reinstate Talleyrand as his parent's heir had been expanded to include the destruction of the Green Dragoons. It didn't stop there, of course, as each fed off the other. However, the rumors of revolution in France had elevated the scheme to a new level. If there was one thing Talleyrand believed in, it was peace and prosperity for the country that, beneath his exterior, he was deeply dedicated to. If there was one thing Victor believed in, it was the aristocratic ethic.
They agreed upon a very central point, that the destruction of the monarchy in France was to be avoided at all costs. The last thing the world needed was another revolution.
"Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette are doomed," Talleyrand, who possessed an eerie ability to predict such things with surprising accuracy, had explained. "The best we can do it to replace them with another monarchy, not a fanatical tyrant or one of these doomed experimental democracies."
"First we must do away with the Green Dragoons," Victor had reminded his friend. "As long at Tavington lives he is a threat."
The Frenchman had agreed.
"And now we stand on the brink of success," Victor whispered. "There are only two obstacles standing in our way that are both soon to be eliminated, Tavington and Louis XVI. Finally, things will be as they should."
Talleyrand poured another glass of wine and offered it to Victor.
"To things being as they should, my dear friend."
* * *
Dr. Mooreville did his best to control his emotions as he explained the plot to Tavington. He had followed Carrenworth after his meeting with the council. He found it odd that the elders had not informed him that they intended to meet with the head of the Golden Dragoons. So, he had followed, and from a position underneath one of the windows of Talleyrand's temporary Calcutta home, had been privy to the truth.
The head of the Green Dragoons listened, seeming unaffected, until Mooreville was finished. Then he stood and unsheathed his saber. Tavington had a great capacity for anger. Now he was thoroughly angry. He had been misled, fooled, tricked, and the mixture of self-loathing and pure hatred for Talleyrand and Carrenworth twisted itself into a blinding rage incapable of control.
Tavington barely heard Mooreville as he continued on about the disastrous consequences of Carrenworth assuming the throne of France and the destruction of the Green Dragoons. Carrenworth had tricked him, Carrenworth had brainwashed Bordon, Carrenworth was evil, and only when Carrenworth and his vile French associate were dead would he be satisfied.
His saber gripped firmly in one hand, Tavington rushed out of Government House to extract his revenge, Mooreville shouting precautions in his wake.
* * *
The Grand High Green Dragoon burst into the room, Mooreville several steps behind.
"Why, Gen. Tavington, what brings you here?" Victor Carrenworth inquired, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"Tonight you die," Tavington hissed between clenched teeth. "Dr. Mooreville overheard your little discussion."
Victor was a bit better at controlling his anger than Tavington, though he cursed his own stupidity at allowing himself to be overheard.
"Very well, Gen. Tavington," Victor said with a forced smile. "Then I suppose I should thank you for saving me the trouble of killing you in the same way that my father did away with your grandfather. You have done me the favor of presenting yourself for execution."
Victor drew his rapier.
The battle was joined instantly, Tavington coming at his foe with forceful slices that were neatly sidestepped or parried. Victor could play the defensive game. Parrying the nearly incessant slashes, the Golden Dragoon waited for an opening. Typical of someone used to fighting others also armed with sabers Tavington had a tendency toward wide slices.
After several minutes, Victor saw his opening. Tavington was oblivious to the pain. The rapier point piercing his arm did little more than assure him that his intent to kill Carrenworth was justified.
Tavington made another swing as Victor freed his weapon from the Green Dragoon's flesh and jacket. Both retreated. Tavington taking a quick glance at the slight wound in his arm, Victor staring in horror as blood gushed from the deep gash across the back of his hand and trickled down the blade of his rapier as though it were some kind of steel vein.
Tavington raised his saber and made another advance. Victor flicked his wrist and felt the dagger concealed in his sleeve drop into his hand. He ducked beneath Tavington's swing and drove the dagger, backhand, into his sworn enemy's side.
Tavington doubled over as the dagger punctured his right lung. Satisfied that the Green Dragoon was defeated, Victor turned his attentions to the informant.
"Very clever, Doctor Mooreville, but I'm afraid that you've lost."
The doctor aimed his loaded flintlock. It wasn't necessary. Tavington tightened his grip on his saber, orange flames licked at the blade. The curved metal point found its way between Victor's ribs. The young nobleman went limp as Tavington withdrew his sword and turned to face his next opponent.
The Frenchman, a dedicated survivalist, was long gone.
~Fin
Author's Ending Notes:
Despite the good-intentioned (though slightly selfish) plans of Carrenworth and Talleyrand the French Revolution occurred and toppled the monarchy in France. This was followed by the reign of Napoleon Bonaparte.
The hereditary orders of dragoons saw their final death when industrialization, modern warfare tactics, and automatic weapons rendered their use in combat unnecessary by the beginning of WWI.
William Tavington returned to England shortly after the incident in Talleyrand's Calcutta house in January of 1785. There he assumed the title Duke of Fairenvail and integrated the legions of green and golden dragoons. He never married and finding the life of a wealthy nobleman not suited to his peculiar tastes, continued to serve the crown in his capacity as Grand High Green Dragoon. His final battle was at Waterloo in 1815. He died shortly afterward at the age of 71.
Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Perigord returned to France where he left his mark on many a governmental regime, specifically Napoleon's. He relinquished his position as Grand High Silver Dragoon in 1786 to one of his cousins, to dedicate himself to his true calling, politics.
Dr. Mooreville remained with Tavington and the Green Dragoons until his death in 1790. He is buried beside his old friend, William XI.
There are many rumors surrounding the ultimate fate of Victor Alexander Carrenworth VI. The most likely, and most widely believed, theory is that he did indeed perish in his duel with Tavington on New Year's Day 1785. However, there are those who claim that he lived and lost not only his position in society but his sanity as well and spent his remaining days locked away in an insane asylum somewhere in the French countryside. Still others claim he returned to France where he saved Marie Antoinette from certain death at the guillotine by substituting his own sister, Anna. The two of them then lived out their remaining days in Austria. It has also been suggested that Tsar Alexander II of Russia was really Carrenworth. A final theory suggests something about the name Satine and the Moulin Rouge, though no one has ever been able to uncover any details.
---
At long last, I have completed this story! I know that this last chapter might seem a bit rushed. It is the second version of the last chapter though since the disc the first version was on corrupted.
This will be the final version of this story except for some chapter re- naming, the fixing of some minor spelling mistakes, and the possible polishing up of the final chapter.
"It has all worked out perfectly, Talleyrand," Victor Alexander Carrenworth said with a characteristically twisted smile, staring out into the Indian night rather than at the man he spoke to. "You played your part to perfection. The Council of Elder Dragoons believes that you are a dangerous conspirator against monarchy in Europe and that you have persuaded Tavington to join your little crusade."
Talleyrand took a sip from his glass of wine, and replied with barely disguised delight, "You mean?"
"Yes." Carrenworth spun around and held up one of his golden daggers. "The Council has given me the order to kill Tavington."
Talleyrand smiled. "So, our plan finally comes to fruition. Not that I ever doubted it would. Now, once Tavington is dead and you are successfully installed on the throne of France."
"I am obligated to honor my end of the bargain," said the Golden dragoon quickly, finishing the sentence so that the Frenchman need not trouble himself with it. "As you know, I quite conveniently did away with your older brother. Tavington saw to that. All that is required are some signatures on various assorted documents, Duke de Talleyrand."
"And the laws of inheritance and succession?" Talleyrand reminded his partner in underhanded doings.
"Of course." Victor coughed, then noticing Talleyrand's concerned look, quickly snapped, "I'm fine!"
Victor turned back to the window. Stars sparkled brightly against a black velvet sky. The noise of carriages and far-off conversations floated through the saffron-scented air. He felt oddly at peace.
He had first met Talleyrand at the court of Versailles during his family- imposed exile. Victor had been ambitious. Talleyrand had been angry with the hand fate had dealt him. Both were dissatisfied with their positions in the grand scheme of things. In a way, they had been made for each other.
The grand plot had been many years in the making. What began as a simple attempt to reinstate Talleyrand as his parent's heir had been expanded to include the destruction of the Green Dragoons. It didn't stop there, of course, as each fed off the other. However, the rumors of revolution in France had elevated the scheme to a new level. If there was one thing Talleyrand believed in, it was peace and prosperity for the country that, beneath his exterior, he was deeply dedicated to. If there was one thing Victor believed in, it was the aristocratic ethic.
They agreed upon a very central point, that the destruction of the monarchy in France was to be avoided at all costs. The last thing the world needed was another revolution.
"Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette are doomed," Talleyrand, who possessed an eerie ability to predict such things with surprising accuracy, had explained. "The best we can do it to replace them with another monarchy, not a fanatical tyrant or one of these doomed experimental democracies."
"First we must do away with the Green Dragoons," Victor had reminded his friend. "As long at Tavington lives he is a threat."
The Frenchman had agreed.
"And now we stand on the brink of success," Victor whispered. "There are only two obstacles standing in our way that are both soon to be eliminated, Tavington and Louis XVI. Finally, things will be as they should."
Talleyrand poured another glass of wine and offered it to Victor.
"To things being as they should, my dear friend."
* * *
Dr. Mooreville did his best to control his emotions as he explained the plot to Tavington. He had followed Carrenworth after his meeting with the council. He found it odd that the elders had not informed him that they intended to meet with the head of the Golden Dragoons. So, he had followed, and from a position underneath one of the windows of Talleyrand's temporary Calcutta home, had been privy to the truth.
The head of the Green Dragoons listened, seeming unaffected, until Mooreville was finished. Then he stood and unsheathed his saber. Tavington had a great capacity for anger. Now he was thoroughly angry. He had been misled, fooled, tricked, and the mixture of self-loathing and pure hatred for Talleyrand and Carrenworth twisted itself into a blinding rage incapable of control.
Tavington barely heard Mooreville as he continued on about the disastrous consequences of Carrenworth assuming the throne of France and the destruction of the Green Dragoons. Carrenworth had tricked him, Carrenworth had brainwashed Bordon, Carrenworth was evil, and only when Carrenworth and his vile French associate were dead would he be satisfied.
His saber gripped firmly in one hand, Tavington rushed out of Government House to extract his revenge, Mooreville shouting precautions in his wake.
* * *
The Grand High Green Dragoon burst into the room, Mooreville several steps behind.
"Why, Gen. Tavington, what brings you here?" Victor Carrenworth inquired, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"Tonight you die," Tavington hissed between clenched teeth. "Dr. Mooreville overheard your little discussion."
Victor was a bit better at controlling his anger than Tavington, though he cursed his own stupidity at allowing himself to be overheard.
"Very well, Gen. Tavington," Victor said with a forced smile. "Then I suppose I should thank you for saving me the trouble of killing you in the same way that my father did away with your grandfather. You have done me the favor of presenting yourself for execution."
Victor drew his rapier.
The battle was joined instantly, Tavington coming at his foe with forceful slices that were neatly sidestepped or parried. Victor could play the defensive game. Parrying the nearly incessant slashes, the Golden Dragoon waited for an opening. Typical of someone used to fighting others also armed with sabers Tavington had a tendency toward wide slices.
After several minutes, Victor saw his opening. Tavington was oblivious to the pain. The rapier point piercing his arm did little more than assure him that his intent to kill Carrenworth was justified.
Tavington made another swing as Victor freed his weapon from the Green Dragoon's flesh and jacket. Both retreated. Tavington taking a quick glance at the slight wound in his arm, Victor staring in horror as blood gushed from the deep gash across the back of his hand and trickled down the blade of his rapier as though it were some kind of steel vein.
Tavington raised his saber and made another advance. Victor flicked his wrist and felt the dagger concealed in his sleeve drop into his hand. He ducked beneath Tavington's swing and drove the dagger, backhand, into his sworn enemy's side.
Tavington doubled over as the dagger punctured his right lung. Satisfied that the Green Dragoon was defeated, Victor turned his attentions to the informant.
"Very clever, Doctor Mooreville, but I'm afraid that you've lost."
The doctor aimed his loaded flintlock. It wasn't necessary. Tavington tightened his grip on his saber, orange flames licked at the blade. The curved metal point found its way between Victor's ribs. The young nobleman went limp as Tavington withdrew his sword and turned to face his next opponent.
The Frenchman, a dedicated survivalist, was long gone.
~Fin
Author's Ending Notes:
Despite the good-intentioned (though slightly selfish) plans of Carrenworth and Talleyrand the French Revolution occurred and toppled the monarchy in France. This was followed by the reign of Napoleon Bonaparte.
The hereditary orders of dragoons saw their final death when industrialization, modern warfare tactics, and automatic weapons rendered their use in combat unnecessary by the beginning of WWI.
William Tavington returned to England shortly after the incident in Talleyrand's Calcutta house in January of 1785. There he assumed the title Duke of Fairenvail and integrated the legions of green and golden dragoons. He never married and finding the life of a wealthy nobleman not suited to his peculiar tastes, continued to serve the crown in his capacity as Grand High Green Dragoon. His final battle was at Waterloo in 1815. He died shortly afterward at the age of 71.
Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Perigord returned to France where he left his mark on many a governmental regime, specifically Napoleon's. He relinquished his position as Grand High Silver Dragoon in 1786 to one of his cousins, to dedicate himself to his true calling, politics.
Dr. Mooreville remained with Tavington and the Green Dragoons until his death in 1790. He is buried beside his old friend, William XI.
There are many rumors surrounding the ultimate fate of Victor Alexander Carrenworth VI. The most likely, and most widely believed, theory is that he did indeed perish in his duel with Tavington on New Year's Day 1785. However, there are those who claim that he lived and lost not only his position in society but his sanity as well and spent his remaining days locked away in an insane asylum somewhere in the French countryside. Still others claim he returned to France where he saved Marie Antoinette from certain death at the guillotine by substituting his own sister, Anna. The two of them then lived out their remaining days in Austria. It has also been suggested that Tsar Alexander II of Russia was really Carrenworth. A final theory suggests something about the name Satine and the Moulin Rouge, though no one has ever been able to uncover any details.
---
At long last, I have completed this story! I know that this last chapter might seem a bit rushed. It is the second version of the last chapter though since the disc the first version was on corrupted.
This will be the final version of this story except for some chapter re- naming, the fixing of some minor spelling mistakes, and the possible polishing up of the final chapter.