Thank you for reading and reviewing yesterday's chapter.
I hope I have sorted any errors and typos from today's chapter. It doesn't seem to matter how often I re-read something, something always creeps through!
Also, just had the lunch time BBC News on and they were discussing the impact of Covid-19 on programme making and when things would disappear from the screen for a while. Then they talked about programmes held in readiness ….and showed a clip of the new 'Strike' series! Be still my beating heart! This is after listening before lunch to the first cd in BBC Radio 4's 'Jane Eyre' with TB playing Rochester. Now I have to concentrate on writing the next chapter!
CHAPTER 111
Before Athos and Tréville could think of doing anything else, one of the Red Guard appeared in the doorway to tell them that Richelieu wanted them to join him in the King's private chambers.
"What now?" Tréville muttered as they moved briskly up the stairs to the first floor.
"Perhaps the King requires some additional reassurance," Athos suggested as he mentally noted the presence of the Guards collecting heavy pieces of furniture from rooms to create barricades.
At the first obstacle, the officers squeezed their way between a couple of chests and a large cabinet. Two Guards were carrying heavy chairs and stood back to let them pass.
"Captain," they acknowledged as Athos passed them.
He nodded to them. "Good work, gentlemen. Build it high."
"Yes, Captain," they chorused and set to their work with renewed enthusiasm.
"They seem to have accepted you," Tréville said quietly, his pride unmistakable
"So it would appear," Athos agreed, trying to suppress a frisson of pleasure.
Raised voices could be heard at the end of the corridor. One person, at least, was not very happy.
"Gaston," Tréville sighed. "I would recognise his whine anywhere. What is he up to now?"
"It seems that he is attempting to gain access to the King," Athos commented.
Gaston was remonstrating with the two Musketeers stationed outside the monarch's apartment but, on hearing their approaching footsteps, the Duc wheeled around and began a fresh verbal assault on the newcomers.
"Tréville, I would see my brother, but your men will not let me pass. I demand that you do something about it."
"Cardinal Richelieu gave strict instructions that no-one was to be admitted, Captain, savin' yourself and Athos when you arrived," one of the Musketeers explained with some regret.
"And there you have it, Your Grace," Tréville said to Gaston.
"A battle is going to begin at any time, and it is reprehensible that you should be given precedence over me," the Duc objected, his voice rising in volume. No doubt he wanted to be heard the other side of the door, which stood ajar. He had probably been halted in the process of walking in.
Tréville kept a straight face. "I thank you for pointing that out to me. I suspect that is the reason why Captain Athos and I have been summoned to give His Majesty final reassurances about preparations for the imminent battle."
"I insist upon an audience with my brother," Gaston opined. "We might all be slain; I might never have the chance to speak with him again."
"We have done everything within our power to ensure the safety of all those taking shelter within the lodge, especially His Majesty and the Queen," Tréville told him, an impatient edge creeping into his tone. "Unless, of course, you have some additional information that might strengthen our position."
Gaston was unaccountably flustered. "No, no. What else could I possibly know?"
"I don't know," answered the Musketeer Captain as he prepared to give Gaston an opportunity for further admission. "That is why I am asking. I cannot help but wonder if L'Hernault – oh sorry, he was 'your man' at the meeting, wasn't he? I was wondering if he knew something more than you had shared with us, something that perhaps Athos here did not discover."
Gaston's mouth opened and shut repeatedly, and his eyes widened in re-appraisal of Athos before he found his voice.
"So you're the one who …." The words trailed off for he had said too much.
"'The one who' what?" Tréville demanded dangerously, taking a step closer to the shorter Duc.
Gaston looked about him wildly but there was no help to be found and the double doors behind him that, although ajar in reality, remained closed to him.
"The one who was actually a Musketeer and who gained access to that meeting at Troyes? The one who learned the details of the plot and knew the identities of all those involved and particularly the ones who had promised manpower to the rebel cause?"
He let his words penetrate and, seeing Gaston squirm uncomfortably, pressed home his advantage.
"The one whom L'Hernault recognised and who was left near death after a brutal attack? The one L'Hernault targeted for a second attempt. The one who, if L'Hernault is to be believed, you also gave an order to have killed?
Gaston was saved from having to account for himself by one of the doors behind him swinging open to reveal Richelieu.
"What an interesting exchange, Captain. I have been standing listening on the other side of the door." He frowned at the Duc.
"I want to see my brother," Gaston repeated pathetically.
"Fortunately for you, His Majesty will grant you an audience; he can spare you five minutes, no longer," and the Cardinal stood to one side to let him pass.
Athos and Tréville followed him into the King's presence.
Louis was standing at a window, looking out at the preparations for battle that were unfolding below him.
Gaston bowed and greeted him effusively but when Louis turned to him, there was no welcome in the King's eyes. He held up a hand to halt the Duc's progress across the room to him.
"There is no need to come any further," Louis said, his face and tone cold.
Gaston stopped, puzzled. "Louis, I …"
"You will not address me so informally. We may be brothers in blood but I am your King."
"But, Louis ….. I am sorry, Your Majesty," Gaston corrected himself, "but I do not understand."
"Do you not, brother?" Louis was furious. "You have betrayed me."
"Betrayed! How?" Gaston's panic was very real. "But I told you of the rebels' petition and plot!"
"Oh, indeed you did. And no doubt you think I should be eternally grateful, little brother. In recent days, you have certainly taken the time and trouble to apologise for your prior shortcomings and stressed your loyalty, your change of heart.
"Perhaps I would have been more accommodating had you informed me of something I did not already know, but one of the Cardinal's intelligencers had already alerted him of impending problems in time for us to send our own man. From the conversation in the corridor which, like the Cardinal, I also overheard, I know that you have been introduced to Musketeer Athos, my intelligencer!"
Gaston's face blanched with fear and he wrung his hands nervously.
"Your information largely concurred with what he reported, except for one detail. A rather significant detail in my opinion. You offered the support of armed men to the rebels."
"Yes but I had to do something to fool them into believing that I was on their side whilst the incriminating evidence was being gathered against them," Gaston said in his defence.
"And what would you have me fooled into believing, Gaston?" Louis looked pained at having to ask the question.
"I would not fool you!"
"Would you not? How many times have you lied to me in your life, Gaston? Sometimes it was an outright untruth and other times you twisted details to suit your purpose. Do you realise there is the lie of omission?"
Gaston could not answer. Instead, he swallowed hard.
"Such as when you omitted to tell me that you had moved armed men across my realm and positioned them in three camps close to Versailles."
"I forgot; I am sorry," Gaston stammered. It was a lame reason, even to his ears.
"That is quite a serious bout of forgetfulness, do you not think?"
Richelieu, Tréville and Athos stood and watched in a respectful silence. There was no need to intervene; their presence was merely one of moral and tactical support for the King for Louis was doing a fine job of taking apart anything that Gaston might claim.
"I brought them to support you against the nobles!" Gaston wailed.
"Really?" Louis was justifiably incredulous. "Yet you refrained from declaring your intentions from the start!"
"I told you, I forgot. There was so much happening at the same time. They are here to fight for you, no against you."
Louis gave a mirthless laugh. "And you expect me to accept your preposterous tale? It is just another of your fabrications, Gaston. Do you not remember, as children, when we listened to the fables of Aesop? There was the story of the little boy who cried wolf. You are that boy, Gaston.
"You have told me so many stories over the years and I have always accepted them because I trusted you; I gave you chances to make good and yet so many times you have broken my heart when I have discovered the truth. You are my only legitimate brother and there should be a closeness between us but, for some reason, you have gone out of your way to damage our relationship. No more, Gaston. I will not hear your lies again."
There was a sadness now about Louis that had not been so before.
"But I am telling you the truth!" Gaston pleaded.
"Perhaps you are, or at least your version of the truth as you understand it, but I cannot, will not, heed you anymore, Gaston."
"But, Louis …." Gaston was desperate now. This audience with his older brother was not unfolding as he had expected.
"Captain Tréville," Louis said, cutting off whatever it was that Gaston was about to say for himself."
"Sire!" Tréville snapped to attention.
"Have the Duc d'Orleans taken to his rooms and confined there. I would not see him locked up in the manner of the other prisoners and for that he must be thankful. We will decide what is to become of him when this day is ended."