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Chapter XII: Reunion: just what is says folks – enjoy.
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Unto Dumas: Pax, Disney, Hallmark 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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A
hearty thank you for JeanTre16 my longsuffering Beta. I couldn't
have done this without you! –Shiny--
Chapter XII: Reunion
The stuttering brilliance of lightning lit the sky but the travelers were both dry and safe. Thanks to Andie's impeccable weather sense, they had taken shelter in a cave. The king found the conditions 'simply deplorable'. But upon gazing long and hard out the mouth of the grotto, where rain came in great torrents and the wind shouldered its way through the trees like a massive beast, he agreed any shelter preferable to so solid a soaking. They were lulled to sleep by the rhythm of rain.
Dawn broke. The sky was overcast and there was a persistent drizzle. The chill in the air made everyone huddle in his or her cloak. "It is going to be like this all day." The young mariner girl sighed. "There is nothing anyone can do about it, and no use trying to wait it out."
The adventurers sullenly agreed to continue their journey, but it appeared this last leg would be the most trying. In foul weather, the Sologne becomes one of the most dismal areas in central France: damp, flat, featureless, and foggy. It was now the young guides became truly invaluable.
The soil was an impermeable mixture of clay and sand. Mirror-like pools quickly became slimy marsh…There were few roads; and paths grew treacherous and uncertain in the mist. Anton was amazing. By some uncanny means, the large boy could follow a trail…invisible beneath the miasma of rain and mud. Still, the travelers were often forced to dismount and lead the horses onto more stable ground.
"Under these conditions it might be best to ride double," Etienne suggested with a poignant shiver. "It will be warmer for one; and two, we will have remounts should one beast slip." The rawboned lad looked somewhat like a drowned rat hunched in his cloak, close-cropped hair pasted to his scalp like a skullcap.
No sooner were the words out of the young man's mouth when D'artagnan chimed in with, "Le Pont rides with me."
The vehemence of the comment immediately struck Siroc as odd… not because he suspected the Gascon was trying to protect Jacqueline's secret or simply taking advantage of a reasonable excuse to ride with his arms around her waist. Instead, the inventor's usually brilliant mind jumped to the conclusion that the man was reluctant to be saddled with one of his unnatural cousins for any length of time. Admittedly, he could not examine the observation with his usual thoroughness as Louis was the next to speak his mind on the matter.
"I will not place my butterfly at further risk." The young king announced haughtily. "You will convey me upon your mount…uncle."
"Of course…Lew." The inventor smiled graciously and helped the young royal to mount.
With a gracious bow, befitting one of his romantic temperament, Ramon swept his somewhat soggy hat before young Andie. "I would be honored if such a muchacha excepcional"would permit this soldado humilde to convey you further.
"Mucho gracias." Andie curtseyed stiffly… grateful that she knew enough of the pidgin language used on the docks to understand the compliment and reply in kind… there was even a slight blush on her rain drenched cheeks.
Etienne and Anton rode ahead of the others, testing the path and warning of unseen dangers. It was rough going but they covered much ground. The worst was fording burgeoning rivers swollen by the rain. The adventurers discovered another good reason to be riding double as the extra weight kept them from being swept down stream. Scrambling about in the muck spoiled the supplies lashed behind saddles.
"Its not far now," Anton encouraged. Rivulets of water dripping off his hair snaked down his collar and chilled him to the bone. "At least if we're moving it won't seem so c-c-cold. There's an inn where we can get a warm lunch… s-spend the afternoon by a fire. We'll be in la' Feré by n-noon tomorrow." The large boy shivered
"The Abbey" Etienne whispered. "We take them to the Abbey first…Emris is waiting. He'll have a meal and a fire. We were expected to arrive with the ship."
Anton could feel the younger boy shivering as much as he was, and was impressed with the determination in Etienne's voice. The trail to the abbey was a harder ride. Spirits, especially Lewis's, would flag…lord knew his own already had and he knew the reason for the journey. The rest would need something concrete to look forward to – without giving the secret away of course.
"All right…skip the inn." Anton forced a smile and tried to sound cheerful. "We dine at the Abbey. There will likely be delicious lapin à la moutarde (rabbit in mustard sauce), a long warm bath, and a nap in front of the fireplace waiting for us. And of course, stories before bed… a real bed with clean sheets and a pillow. Omelets for breakfast and a whole day to rest body and restore soul; before we even need to contemplate climbing back in the saddle."
"Crusty baguettes fresh from the village bakery and wild peach preserves," Andie chimed in hopefully.
Etienne joined the litany as they rode. "Green salad topped with warm Crottin de Chavignol cheese."
The description almost made Ramon drool. It also helped the others take their minds off the fact that the rain was coming down in buckets. The only drawback was that they were truly famished when they finally sighted the Abbey. Amid a tranquil land of farms and chestnut forests a monolith of gray stone rose from the midst of a country village. It was a singularly beautiful place; the wrought iron gate yawning open in warm welcome.
o-o-o-o-o
"Boys, you've come!" Emris de Ruse greeted them, relief written in his very posture. The tall man guided them into the hall. "I see these troublemakers have seen you safely to my door." The venerable former musketeer winked at Etienne, Anton and Andie. "Dart and Siroc I know… You must be Ramon." He smiled and held out his hand to the Spaniard. "I have heard much of the founding member of the Poetic Balladeer Society of Berry." The venerable scholar admitted. "The group you began on your last visit still meets once a month …Though I believe they call it the Berry Poetical Ballad Society at present."
Ramon beamed with pride. He was overjoyed that the seeds he planted on his last visit to this place were still bearing fruit, but it paled in comparison to acknowledgement of the poet-laureate among musketeers! Ramon took the older gentleman's hand in both of his own and clasped it tightly in greeting. "Señor Arimtz I- I am much an admirer your works as well. It is indeed very good to finally make your acquaintance." Ramon faltered sincerity gleaming in his puppy brown eyes.
"Ah my works are old and tired, they barely keep the children amused." Emris admitted, "I rarely have time to devote to it. But do not loose your passion my friend it will be a great comfort to you over the years I am sure."
Etienne and Anton had long been counted among 'the children' who sat in rapt attention whenever Emris could be persuaded reciting his stories or poems. Unbeknownst to the other adventurers, their journey directly involved another one of these 'children'.
Etienne sent his uncle a knowing smile and continued the introductions. "Uncle, I suspect you have not met our other companions. May I present Jacques le Pont and Lew le Grand."
"Good to meet the both of you…I've someone I'd like to introduce you to as well, but first some warm clothes and something hot to drink. I'm afraid I haven't much to offer. The brothers of the Holy Order who reside here tend to be somewhat ascetic, but I am sure we can find something suitable until your own clothes are clean and dry."
Etienne, Anton and Andie managed to find robes of fine brown linen in the appropriate sizes. After a warm bath the companions found themselves comfortably situated before a roaring fire in the sitting room, sipping something warm and sweet.
Jacqueline found it strange indeed to be clothed in what was essentially a dress, yet maintaining the façade of Jacques Le Pont… and of course, she could not pass up the opportunity to rib D'artagnan. Louis seemed most affected by the situation prancing about the room with the robe swishing about his ankles…likely pretending to be Mazarin.
Emris motioned to the doorway, eyes never leaving the young royal. A skittish figure dressed in various shades of brown entered. The boy clutched his hands nervously before him. His honey-colored hair was long like D'artagnan's but worn free, falling in his face. Absently the newcomer pushed the bangs revealing bright… intelligent eyes. That instant the young king looked up and gasped, "That peasant has MY face!"
The boy froze in what could only be described as abject terror. In a heartbeat, he dove behind Emris almost huddling beneath his cloak.
"It's all right Philippe, you're safe." The scholar soothed quietly, "I called him here."
Louis overheard the quiet exchange. His eyes grew wide with surprise. "Epée?" the young king whispered. The boy in question peered out from beneath Emris's arm, hands covering much of his face, bright eyes tear filled, looking through the 'V' of his fingers.
The discourse that followed baffled all except the two boys, and perhaps Emris who was more accustomed to accepting the unexpected as a matter of course.
"I know you Bright blade." Louis said awe apparent in his voice… "I am the sun!"
"Would the Sun laugh at the moon?" The boy, Epée, asked cryptically. "I can not fear the light I reflect… that would be silly." Philippe smiled shyly, but he looked older now, more confident.
The baffled musketeers exchanged glances – Emris had read twins sometimes have their own language… their own uncanny means of communication. Still he had not thought such things possible between two that had been separated since birth but separated they had been and little Philippe had paid dearly for the mischance of his birth. It was high time the situation was rectified. But there were more concerned here then the two royal twins. Emris braced himself to voice the secret he had kept for nearly ten years.
"D'artagnan…there's something I need to tell you." He drew the young Gascon away from his companions seated before the fire, but not so far that his friends could not overhear… The boy would likely need their support later and he wouldn't want to go over everything again. After another deep breath Aramis spoke. "Your so called Legendary father is just as human as everyone else, just as prone to making mistakes. I don't need to tell you your mother's Illness had been long and hard," the ex-musketeer said trying hard to be tactful. It was no secret, Emris and de Batz had not gotten along in years, but that was no reason to make things unnecessarily difficult on his son... "Charles found death was one enemy unfazed by both his fame and his martial skills. He could not bear to see the woman he loved, his Constance, snatched away from him inch by excruciating inch knowing there was nothing he could do to save her."
Emris paced the room in agitation. God this is difficult to say, he mused to himself, But Dart was not a child any longer and deserved to learn the truth. With military precision, the old soldier came to a halt before the young Gascon and continued the difficult tale. "In his weakness, Charles stayed away from home mourning your mother's death even while life clung tentatively to her frame. Athos, Porthos and I tried to be there for you as often as we could, but Gascony is not exactly next-door to the capital and our duties kept us bound. It was no secret you needed your father's care and he was not there for you. It is time you learned why."
"Charles was in no condition to look after you. There were far too many times he thought to follow Constance to the grave and would have succeeded had we not prevented him. He also had another dear friend: a confidant with a vested interest in his wellbeing. Even when Charles no longer listened to our council this courageous lady still had his ear. Your father was finally moved to pour his grief out to her. Though she was also married, it was no surprise he came to love her. In the fullness of time, this woman became with child. She had never before carried pregnancy to full term and there was a real chance this time would kill her.
"I have no doubt the loss of both the woman your father loved would have destroyed him…As before Athos, Porthos and I conspired against him. Our efforts kept him in bed largely unconscious for more than a week. And so it was your father was not with your mother when she died, neither did he see the twins born of his indiscretion. I tell you this because it was the fifth of Septembre, 1638."
Young Philippe looked up from his place on the couch and cocked his head, "That is my birthing day." He announced shyly. "Emris made me cookies but they burned. I did not really mind, as this is only the second year I have marked the date. I'm surprised Lew is not more upset that you took no notice of his day. You were already on the way here so he missed having his big gala and everything."
D'artagnan stared at the boy as if he just spoke Greek. His mind whirled like a top and vision dimmed. For a few heartbeats Dart thought he might blackout. "His father…AND the Queen!" It was inconceivable. He didn't even register Louis seemed hardly surprised by the revelation that had just shaken his world to its very foundations.
The young king shrugged, "Philippe and I have shared dreams as long as I can remember. I never told anyone because I wasn't sure he was really real." Louis showered the room with his luminous smile. "When I first learned to use the Royal We, I thought it meant Him and Me. And as for missing MY birthday…" Louis struck a haughty pose and looked for a moment as if he were about to let loose a royal tantrum then, smiling wistfully announced, "Philippe has never celebrated as I did. I figure it's only fair that for once he got to make the most of the day." Louis nudged his newfound brother affectionately. "Besides, a fine Epée is kingly birthday present. I thank you all for bringing me to him."
The Gascon was still in shock; he simply could not process the information necessary to comprehend his illustrious father, was not only guilty of abandoning his wife and legitimate son but had also defiled the bonds of his marriage, betrayed his oath to the king committing treason. Charles de Batz Castlemore D'artagnan Sr. the one who set the standard so high his son could never quite measure up, had dared to bed the queen. Not only that, but the ruling king and this other boy were in fact his own half-brothers. Words failed him. The young Gascon could only blink and stare. It seemed uncle Paulie had been correct. Queens really were no different from barmaids in the dark.
Luckily, D'artagnan was among friends adept at reading his mood. They shifted the topic of conversation away from the startling revelation so he could grapple with the revelation in the privacy of his own mind. After some minutes, Siroc suggested Louie teach Philippe how play brelan. Etienne and Andie agreed to help. Anton hastily excused himself as well on the pretext of seeing if Emris's daughter, Kate Lynn, needed any help in the kitchen. Jacqueline really wanted to pull D'artagnan aside to tell him everything would be ok…maybe even to hold him for a bit...if that was what he needed. But 'guys' didn't DO that sort of thing and Ramón wasn't letting his Gascon friend out of his sight. Jacqueline mentally cursed her male persona and had to make do with sidling up beside D'artagnan hoping her mere proximity would be a comfort.
With the younger members of the party occupied the conversation could turn to weightier matters. "Your timing in leaving the capital was fortuitous." Emris nodded at the young musketeers. "I must thank you for all you have done."
Ramon held his head high and announced. "We are Musketeers sir. No thanks are required. Truly, it is our duty to protect our king. Someday, years from now I shall compose a grand ballad of this adventure…"
"But for now, you are going to keep things secret, yes?" Siroc reminded the indomitable Spaniard before launched into a ballad comparing their actions to some equally heroic deed or other-- Hannibal and the elephants perhaps. It WAS one of his favorites, still the inventor frowned, "There is still much about this business in the capital that does not add up."
"Mazarin's men are involved as usual," Jacques scoffed. If she and D'artagnan had been the ones to face Bernard and his cronies instead of Ramon and Siroc…well there's no telling what would have happened.
"Really? What evidence do you have of their involvement?" Emris asked suddenly interested.
"Nothing concrete; just what we have seen." Jacques began ticking off each point on her fingers. "Number one, before we left Paris there had been many thefts, vandalism and arson fires… more than ever recorded for a single season. The culprits seem very organized and there have been no arrests. This fact alone adds to the atmosphere of fear and unrest."
"Number two," Jacques said, pointing at her friends. "Siroc and Ramón saw Bernard with several of Mazarin's Guard out of uniform in the vicinity at the same time as a fire in the warehouse district. They wore heavy coats likely to protect clothes from incidental soot and sparks." She said smoothing down the folds of her borrowed robe.
"Number three." She continued with agitation in her voice. "The attacks seem to fall evenly on Mazarin's followers and his detractors but that would be irrelevant if certain parties had advanced warning. I saw the cardinal's men emptying his rooms in advance of a supposed attack of arson." She shook her head remembering D'artagnan's blistered skin and bruises… It would have been devastating if he had lost his life battling that fire.
Siroc nodded his agreement of her assessment "The question is whether he's the cause of the unrest in the capital or merely taking advantage of the situation to consolidate his power."
"True enough." Emris agreed, "I know his agents are responsible for feeding the unrest. Even so, I suspect things have gotten out of hand. The people, they are beginning, to call Frondeurs, have built barricades in the streets of Paris."
"Fronde; like una honda– a slingshot, yes?" Ramon asked, "Capitán Bernard and his toughs carried slings. Siroc intimated the guardsmen used them to break windows. That is significant yes?"
"That is said to be what triggered the movement," Emris agreed then sighed, "But simply possessing what is essentially a child's toy is not enough to prove anything. His eminence is guilty of many unspeakable crimes." The Scholar exchanged knowing glances with Siroc as he spoke, "I suspect history will never have cause to know them. The late Cardinal Richelieu was no different; there are those who seek to canonize him. We must wage a secret war against such evil."
"I won! I won! I WON!" Louis cried joyfully from the other room. Through the arched doorway, they could see him holding Epée's hands. Together they danced gleefully about the room.
Emris smiled at the exuberant display, "Ramón spoke true earlier: We are musketeers. We must be content that we have done our duty. We have kept our royal charges safe in this time of unrest. It is enough."
"We are musketeers," Ramon, Siroc and Jacques reaffirmed their vow. D'artagnan weakly managed to add, "Our duty is to protect our King always." And the others added their voices to his own.
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Chapter XIII: Lasting Consequences
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