Unto Dumas: Pax, Disney and United Artists too

Give credit where credit is due,

I'd be writing something subtly different…

If not for all of you.

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Unto JeanTre16 for being my beta. Hopefully I have used your suggestions to good effect. Thank you.

Chapter X: Change of Scene

Captain Porthos leaned idly on the rail as young Andie expertly brought the great ship gliding in the port of Nantes. "You're sure you won't reconsider?" the large man asked the young musketeers "It's a fair distance overland. By my reckoning nearly 137 lieue de post… that's about 8 days of travel."

"We'll have to take that chance." Siroc shrugged…He had given Louie his word and that was all there was to it. Beside which, his other companions seemed just as eager to be continuing on horseback. D'artagnan and Jacques both were looking somewhat haggard this morning and Ramon had yet to recover his appetite… a clear indication of how profoundly the storm affected the poet.

"We can make our own way thank you." D'artagnan stated tugged idly at the bandage over his blistered forearm. The legend's son loved his uncle Paulie (there was no denying that) He even felt a bit guilty about leaving. On the other hand, D'artagnan half-suspected the mischievous Captain of putting them in jeopardy simply to 'enhance the experience'. There was no telling what 'other adventures' the man had in store for them.

"At least take Andie and the lads with you. They have made the trip with Athos a few times. It's rough going…You'll need guides."

"We'll be fine." The D'artagnan snapped at the man. "It shouldn't be difficult to follow the river. Besides…We don't have enough horses." It was true Dart had not seen his young cousins in years… but even when they were small, they were almost as adept at finding trouble as uncle Paulie.

Siroc was taken aback by the young Gascon's vehemence; his attitude seemed to stem from a fundamental mistrust of his young cousins.

Siroc couldn't help but wonder if D'artagnan's unwillingness to include the youths was because they were inheritors of the unnaturally legacy of Richelieu's arts. And feared what his friend would do if they knew Siroc himself shared that dark heritage.

Though Etienne and Anton hid it well, both were stronger, faster and perhaps a bit more cunning than was 'natural' for others their age. The young Inventor had hoped he would have the opportunity to spend time with others of 'his kind'. Now, fear awoke in him anew…The X-slave kept his secrets carefully closeted in his heart. He feared being rejected by those who had become so dear to him, Still, this opportunity to observe children born to others like him held undeniable appeal.

Captain Porthos, was un-swayed by D'artagnan's remarks and turned on the young Gascon, wagging his finger at him. "Last time you visited Berry you came direct from the capital through Orléanaise you've never traveled this way before. You have no experience with this approach. You, my lad… are looking for excuses not to take my advice." The big man sounded hurt. "And your excuse is pathetic. The young ones can get horses fine enough at the market here in Nantes."

"I have a good map" Jacques offered, trying to mollify the legendary Porthos. "Musketeer cartography trip 1640, if I remember correctly. Were you still active in the corps then?" She asked.

"We didn't transfer to the Berry Regiment till '42." Porthos brightened at the memory. "Athos was tactics and Aramis academics. Both led the map trek a time or two. I can still locate all the good inns between Paris and Calais blindfolded but my handwriting was never good enough to be official so I taught improvised weaponry. Your cousins, young as they are, have been schooled just as we used to train recruits in the old days. You'll not find them lacking."

Siroc regarded his companions thoughtfully before finally weighing in on the topic, careful to keep his true motives concealed. "Before becoming a musketeer all I knew of the country was from books and charts. Since then, I have come to realize first-hand experience is a valuable aid. If you say Etienne and Anton can guide us then, provided they wish to do so, I don't see why they shouldn't."

"I think… I have to agree." Ramon said slowly "It will be a long while I hope before I underestimate someone simply because of their years."

And so it was decided. Octet of adventurers bid Adieu to Porthos and the crew of the recently re-christened "Allie's Delight," promising to meet them in le Feré. Most supplies for their trek had been found in the Schooner's ample hold, the rest was easily acquired in the nearby market. Soon all was in readiness.

o-o-o-o

They sat around a table in a small café looking over Jacques map and discussing the journey.

"Best just to follow the coast…" The Gascon yawned.

"The way's not so straightforward on horseback." Anton explained, pointing at the map. "We wouldn't want to follow the Loire River all the way. That would mean going north to get east." Not even D'artagnan could deny the large boy was correct.

Etienne chimed in next, tracing the route with nimble fingers. "It's easy to trace the Loire when it is great and wide the place the Cher river feeds into it. We can stop at Anjou and Tours. The complicated bit is to find our way through the wilds of the Sologne and into Berry." The slim youth explained.

Just then, a boisterous gentleman entered the café and called out to any who would hear him, "Moliere is released from Grand Chatelet! the show must go on!"

"Moliere? Here!" Ramon asked excitedly. "We needn't set out immediately do we?" the poet begged. The others saw the excitement dancing in their friend's puppy-brown eyes. "Can't we visit his Theatre Illustre, just for a bit?" The Spaniard had been feeling quite low since the storm and the others decided to indulge him.

o-o-o-o

The doors of the Croix Noire were opened at one o'clock; the curtain rose at two. Lewis of course expected to be seated high in the dedans among nobles. But on a guardsman's budget, the others knew the five pence admission would be better spent elsewhere. For two pence-halfpenny, they had the privilege of standing in the pit before the stage.

Those less accustomed to the theater found it difficult to believe that an hour before this had been a common tennis court. Its sudden transformation, into a stage, was nothing short of extraordinary.

Tapestries hung round the court. A flute and tambour, and two fiddlers (which were quite good) supplied the music as the audience waited for the main entertainment to begin. The actors struggled to get through the heavy curtains, occasionally knocking off a hat or leaving a wig askew as they entered and exited the stage area. This only added to the comedy as the last preparations were made.

Large candles in tin sconces lined the back and sides of the stage. A man standing near them --Auey Perrault: a regular attendee and confidante of Moliere-- explained to an eager Ramon that prior to actor's unfortunate stint in debtor's prison, luxury had gone so far that a chandelier of four candles had been suspended from the roof. At intervals during the production the candles were let down by a rope and pulley, and any one within easy reach could snuff them with his fingers.

Ramon, D'artagnan, and Siroc suddenly stood shoulder to shoulder. Lew, Etienne and Anton stood in a cohesive huddle before their musketeer chaperones. Still it took some effort not to be elbowed apart by the milling crowd as the area around the stage filled with eager patrons. A hush descended on the throng as the performance began. It was a short play called 'the The Flying Doctor.'

Though each stood a scant hands-breath from their companions, their view of the performance varied tremendously. Lewis, like Ramon, was entirely taken with Moliere. The famous actor was cast in the roll of a seemingly simple valet named Sganarelle. In the course of the performance the man's acting talent was tested time and again as the valet impersonated a doctor and then the doctor's twin brother as well! The young king was astonished by the man's versatility and determined to one day see him perform again in Paris. But the others managed to prevent him from extending a personal invitation to call at the palace.

Siroc and Anton paid little attention to the performance or the story. Instead, captivated by the system of pulleys and scaffolding which permitted the actor to fly, they had their heads bent together whispering like a couple of schoolgirls. By the end of the show, inventor and architect had a hypothetical design for a brace and harness that could pivot and permit even an unskilled acrobat to safely twist, flip and fly through the air-- like an acrobat without tangling the wires.

Etienne was nonplussed by what he called 'banal costumes and tawdry humor.' He leaned back to comment to the others from time to time…Even noting he was positive he "could produce better." D'artagnan smirked at the remark, His uncle, the illustrious Aramis, would have said the same. "Perhaps Etienne is a de' Ruse after all." D'artagnan reasoned. In truth, the Gascon's thoughts had been elsewhere during most of the performance. Jacqueline and Andie had opted to wait outside guarding the supplies and horses. The legend's son wished he had stayed with them and silently fretted over their safety.

o-o-o-o

Outside, 'the girls' lazed on the shore overlooking the estuary. The horses grazed contentedly nearby. Behind them soared the ramparts of the fortress Château. It was a stunning day. The blond mariner lass lay sprawled out on the grass chewing on a piece of grass. Her crystal blue eyes drank in the world as parched soil takes in the rain, missing nothing. Jacques regarded her from beneath the shade of a gnarled oak tree.

Andie was younger than Etienne and Anton and quieter. Since Jacques first noticed the child on deck she'd heard the girl say no more than 10 words, but when she did speak others deferred to her, more often than not. Even the captain listened to her council… Ramon told them she predicted the storm but there had to be more to it than that.

'What could such a young girl have done to be placed in such a place of responsibility?" the Jacques wondered it seemed there had to be more to the skinny child than met the eye.

Andie on the other hand, knew very well there was more to 'Jacques' than met the eye. Without any preamble the young girl announced, "You are not the first you know." her voice was quiet and had a music to it that spoke of the wind and the wave.

"First?" Jacques asked the lithe blond innocently.

"La feme Musketeer of course." Andie said with a pert smile deftly flicking the piece of grass she'd been chewing. It flew into the air like a shot then soared lazily into the river. She continued casually, "In the tradition of Joan of Arc and Jeanne Hachette…Ma mère also is a chevalier."

"Your mother… a knight! How?" Jacqueline gasped in surprise.

"She was raised by and among the guard." Andie smiled, "Ma mère was their mascot at first I think. When I was little Trev and Jury used to tell me stories about when they were cadets… They taught her blade work using a long knife. She was tiny…not more than five, but she'd mastered all the principal moves and even some of the trickier ones." Andie explained pride in her voice.

"Who are Trev and Jury?" Jacqueline wondered aloud, the names seemed familiar. Perhaps D'artagnan mentioned them before.

"The ones that gave Athos and Aramis the idea that Guard could be legends of course; Captain Trivelle of the Musketeers…and Captain Jurassk of the Red Guards. Captain Style de la Roche of the Cavaliers too and others but they were gone before I was old enough to remember them. The whole lot of them helped raise mama and when she was older and her skills manifested, none of the blade-bound in the corps would permit anyone to turn her out. She raised in the ranks the same as they did and earned her commendation."

"What does 'blade-bound mean?' The musketeer asked.

Andie smiled, "If you don't know, then the people of Berry la Feré have done their duty. Richelieu's been gone long enough that there probably aren't any of HIS left in the king's guard.

Jacqueline raised an eyebrow, "You didn't answer the question." She pointed out.

"True enough," Andie sighed "The Blade Bound, were young men and boys Richelieu decided were too dangerous to be permitted civilian life. He had them rounded up and trained under extreme conditions and exacting discipline… to be unquestioningly loyal soldiers. Later he used other means to ensure they were different from normal guard."

Jacqueline wasn't quite sure what the girl meant by different but something in the way she said it forestalled any question the elder woman might think to ask so Andie continued her narrative uninterrupted.

"If Richelieu had kept his elite together, no force could have opposed them. But, against the recommendations of his Chosen, the Cardinal opted to use them as ambassadors, enforcers, and spies." She grimaced. "As a result, they were dispersed to all corners of the nation."

"What happened?" Jacqueline asked wondering why her military history course had not mentioned such a seemingly decisive initiative.

The blond shrugged, "Eventually, Richelieu's power – spread too thin, failed, then Ma mère was free to act and things could change. Despite their rough start, some of the Blade-born brought to Berry managed to start families of their own. That is where we come from; Etienne, Anton and I are considered half-blood because one parent is blade-bound and one is normal…Of course my papa not exactly normal ether as mariners are unique in their own way."

"If Richelieu only trained men and boys, how is it your mother was even among their ranks in the first place? Jacqueline asked fingering her false beard thoughtfully.

"Before Mama was born Richelieu designed her to be his heir. She was born to rule yet shares his blood and his power. She is able to command any trained or shaped by his arts. She refuses to use them as he did. To us the blade-bound are 'Family.' In many cases, we are the closest thing they have. Blade-Brothers, and Sisters, Uncles and Cousins… among Berrichons everyone is pretty much 'casual kin' with everyone else."

"What about you? You share her blood, can you command?" Jacqueline asked.

"I'm half-blood, mostly I'm mariner. I have the weather eye from my sire that's my dominant gift. I am a bit of a Dream spinner too…I can touch a sleeping mind and push the nightmares away…but I can't heal or shape the way mother can." The girl confided. "We have certain special talents…things that make us a might unusual… Etienne has can predict patterns that seem random and Anton can read nature as simply as others read a book.

"It Sounds like Magic." Jacqueline breathed incredulously.

"It is…A bit." Anna Dee shrugged; to her; and those like her, that was just 'life'.

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Chapter XI: Journey on: Making ones way across the Loire valley is not a matter to be undertaken lightly…but there are worse ways to spend your days.

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