Chapter 12
Jussac's patience was stretched in more ways than one. Not only did it seem a futile effort to somehow integrate this cursed musketeer lieutenant into the troop. No, he had to keep an extra eye on him in the process, because Rochefort was unable to tell friend from foe!
It was enough, for good. The incident about the laundry made it obvious that d'Artagnan would not allow himself to be put under the command of the lieutenant of the Red Guard, that every discipline, every bit of obedience and sense of honour were unknown to him.
After the incident at the gate, Jussac had reluctantly admitted that d'Artagnan was a damn good officer, whatever his regiment. One who did not allow any harm to come to his men, whether guardsmen or musketeers. Captain Luchaire had judged it differently and demanded punishment as an example. Jussac could only think of the washhouse, all other possibilities had already been exhausted or would have been unjustifiably harsh.
D'Artagnan could easily have served the corvée and thereby still flirted with the women. Instead, he had thought he was clever to sent a naïve girl. Jussac's opinion of the musketeer promptly turned into the opposite. A rebellious spirit, perhaps even a spy in the cardinal's Guard - it was irresponsible, foolish!
Biscarat had reported in confidential conversation that Rochefort should be confronted to learn more about what was going on. And that was what Jussac was now about to do as he angrily followed the upper gallery, turned into a side corridor and headed for the stable master's study. Rochefort had to have a damn good explanation ready for all this! One convincing enough to keep this troublesome musketeer in the corps and not put him in detention, if only to avoid further trouble with Tréville's men.
The door to the study was wide open, much to Jussac's regret, as he thus could not beat on it with his fist to gain entry. Regardless of whether there was anyone else in the room other than Rochefort, Jussac nevertheless blurted things out as he entered. »Enough, Rochefort! You have interfered in my Guard's affairs for the last time!«
Rochefort seemed only moderately surprised by this appearance. He eyed Jussac fleetingly, then nodded to another man of entirely unremarkable appearance, with an ordinary face, without any prominent feature which would be worth remembering. 'Monsieur', an agent, the very best of them, who had reported to his master or taken orders.
Jussac paid no further attention to him, though the plain presence of the agent made his flesh creep, but leaned against the desk as if only the few cubits of wood would prevent him from lunging at the stable master. The door closed behind 'Monsieur', Jussac was alone with Rochefort, who now answered with raised brows.
»Your Guard?«
»Yes, my Guard in these matters. By placing your particular 'friend' in our ranks, you did us a damn disservice!«
Rochefort leaned back in his chair, his hands clearly visible on the armrests. Quite harmlessly was also his retort meant to be. »A disservice is done with good intentions but nevertheless has bad consequences. Tell me which of these conditions apply.«
»I don't know about your intentions, but you could see the consequences if you minded that matter yourself!«
»Noted.«
Jussac heard the dismission between the lines, but he was here to demand an end to these shenanigans! »For God's sake, tell me why d'Artagnan is here, why I should keep an eye on him! I am a soldier, not a flunkey who finds pleasure in such intrigues!«
»A soldier must obey orders and not understand them.« Rochefort raised a hand before Jussac would have jumped down his throat. »But you are hardly content with that now.«
»Damn right, Sir! I will pursue you until I receive a sufficient answer from you. That, or the consequences of your silence will continue to be suffered by d'Artagnan. He said himself that you should be questioned about all this.«
»Did d'Artagnan really say that?«
»Faced with the accusation of being a spy by his 'comrades', who have of your opaque orders in mind!«
»Opaque, indeed.« Rochefort eyed Jussac appraisingly. The lieutenant was not making empty promises about the consequences, it was all too noticeable on his face. But Jussac was mistaken. Rochefort was not half as blind and deaf, as indifferent, as he was accused of being. Nothing of what d'Artagnan had had to endure in the last few weeks had escaped him.
But his hands were tied; any conversation with her would only have ended in a new quarrel, for he had lost her trust. All he could do was watch from the background and ask Jussac for a favour. A favour that had obviously been misinterpreted. »Keeping an eye on d'Artagnan was not tantamount to having suspicions about him. You have failed.«
Jussac blinked, then he burst with anger as he understood. »Express yourself more clearly next time you want me to play the dear, kind nanny to your friends!«
»Well, in all clarity; I hold d'Artagnan in high regard as a loyal friend and an honest soldier, innocent in every respect. So I ask this favour of you again. Keep an eye on him, help him to remain unharmed in your Guard.«
»I should decline.« The wind was taken out of Jussac's sails, though he was no less angry, but now for different reasons. »You vilify any confidence in the character and skills of your friends.«
»Not at all. I would be no less concerned for you should you get into the Corps of Musketeers, and I would then make my request to another lieutenant.«
»Only you think your humour amusing.«
»Are you therefore convinced that d'Artagnan is not a spy?«
»Possibly, if you tell me everything. The reason for this reassignment, and why to us.«
Rochefort hesitated and Jussac needed no time to guess what the stable master was weighing up in his mind as his gaze roamed over the numerous porcelain figurines on the shelves along the back wall. A passion for collecting, a harmless pastime in contrast to the dangerous, sometimes deadly intrigues in which the master spy was entangled. Some intrigue was probably playing a part in it all now, too, and Rochefort seemed to be considering how much he could reveal in order to keep a secret while satisfying the lieutenant so that he would continue to do him a favour. In the end, he twisted his lips into a mirthless smirk.
»Your strong point, I hope, is not only perseverance but also discretion.«
Jussac nodded curtly. That was promise enough for Rochefort, and yet he got lost into vague insinuations. »That d'Artagnan now serves as a guardsman you owe in a small part to me, in a large part to Tréville and His Majesty, and most of it to His Eminence.«
»More clearly!« Jussac demanded with a silken thread of patience, and Rochefort reluctantly yielded.
»D'Artagnan put his neck on the line that Tréville and I would give a truthful report of a certain incident in front of the king. Since this was out of the question, Richelieu converted a death sentence into a reassignment. The heck, d'Artagnan is still taking the blame for us, as unaware of the reasons for this as you are, as anyone else is! I cannot think of a more faithful officer, a better friend. This is a debt I shall never be able to repay. You, too, would do well to win him as a loyal soldier - in case one day you need someone to bail for you with his honour and his life, without any regard for himself.«
Jussac listened without interjection and even now he was silent, trying to sort out his thoughts. He had asked for clarity and had almost received too much frankness. At the end of all his reflections, he snorted, »That 'incident' wasn't, by any chance, the duel the rumour mill tells us about, the one that caused His Majesty to rage all the way from the Louvre to the Palais Cardinal and back again?«
»By chance. But you won't learn the reasons either.«
»I don't give a damn about them!« Jussac snorted. Now he knew the backstory, and even though he still could not approve of a Mademoiselle Batz had been taken advantage of by d'Artagnan, he decided to forget the matter and start all over again. »Fine, I'll continue to do you this favour! But make sure it will not last forever!«
»I would prefer nothing more, Jussac. Nothing more.«
The lieutenant had learned everything he needed to know. With a curt salute, he left the study. He had his answers and another favour on his hands. Captain Luchaire also knew nothing and Jussac has promised discretion. Great.
He could have cared less, but his conscience would not rest. They had not made it easy for the cursed musketeer and yet his punishment was undeserved, no matter how foolish it had been to trust in the honesty of two duellists. Jussac would never have taken the rap for his own superior. But he would have similarly walked through fire for Bernajoux and Biscarat.
He understood, almost against his own will he could understand. He had to talk to his friends, promises or not. Bernajoux and Biscarat deserved clarification, since they had supported him in this favour from the beginning. Now the circumstances had changed - even if there was certainly more to it than Rochefort wanted to reveal.
Jussac had made up his mind; for a while they would accept the former musketeer into their ranks without further reservations. At some point, Tréville would certainly want his golden boy back. His Eminence would probably name a price then, but they could care less about that.
The only thing that mattered was that from today onwards there would be truce.
