Chapter 3
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Here I was in the Musketeers garrison. One of their friends—a nice lady named Constance de Bonacieux—took petit lord with her. Now I have to explain why I was in a disguise but I think they already know. So I told them that I am a thief and the disguise I was wearing earlier was my uniform.
"A uniform?" D'Artagnan repeated.
"What a funny way to call it." Aramis added.
"What? You are wearing uniforms and I'm not judging now am I?" I said "And why am I here, anyway? I'm probably not the first thief that you met but I certainly am the first one that you brought here; am I right?"
"We wanted to ask you some questions about a purse that you stole" Athos replied.
" You couldn't be more vague. Do you have any idea of the amount of purses that I stole? Too many." I retorted
"He is talking about the one which belongs to that man that you ran into last night." Porthos clarified.
"Oh! You are talking about that one. What do you want to know?" I asked
"There was a letter inside that purse. A letter concerning the king's business." Athos explained "Do you have it, mademoiselle…" He stopped realising that he didn't know my name.
"Madeline" I lied. Actually, it was my mother's name. "And to answer your question, no I don't have that letter."
"We must find this letter. It is really important for the king." Aramis added for good measure.
"And why should I care about the importance it has to the King?" I replied
"Because it could bring war upon our kingdom." D'Artagnan answered. "Are you sure you didn't see it?"
"Yes, I am sure. But maybe you can help me find it." I said
"What do you mean?" Porthos asked interested
"Tell me what this letter is exactly about."
"That we cannot do." Athos argued
"Well, I can't help you then." I declared.
"Does that mean you are keeping a lot of those kinds of letters?" Aramis questioned surprised
"You would be surprised, musketeer." I smirked "May I go now?"
"Yes, you may. We don't have anymore questions." Athos dismissed me but before I could completely go—he added "Next time you will be arrested for your crimes, mademoiselle Madeline."
"Dully noted." I answered. I didn't like his tone. He would arrest me—what a joke—he will if he can catch me.
Their friend Constance brings petit lord back. He and I left the garrison. We were heading to our hiding place. On the road I tried to remember what I found in this purse. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice the five men that were following us. I couldn't remember what was in that purse that could have concerned the King. Anyway, we arrived home—we were welcomed by the beautiful smell of food. The boys can cook take my words for it. An onion soup, delicious. They asked why I was so long. I answered that I was with the musketeers and we were talking about things of great importance. I asked them to drop the subject and to eat. After that dinner they went out to play on the street as they usually do. Petit lord asked me to read him a book. Yes, I can read. My mother taught me. After reading him his story, I went through the box where I kept all the letters that I collected. You wouldn't know how many of these letters that I have—love notes, business agreement, correspondence between friends and family—I know I'm probably an horrible person for keeping those letters but I couldn't give them back and said "oh! Sorry, I found this in your purse that I just stole." The only letters that I found that was about the King wasn't really bringing good news. Yes! It was of great importance and yes, it would bring war in France. But it was about a scheme to kill the King and I couldn't keep it. I didn't want to see the musketeers again but I must give them this letter. I am not really fond of the king of France but I know who will take over the throne once he will be gone; the Cardinal Richelieu—and him, I hate. Logically it would be Queen Anne but we all know that he would find some reasons to stop the Queen from being on the Throne.
Those five men that followed me earlier were still out there—watching over my home, our home. As we all prepared to go to bed, they were planning on penetrating into our hiding place. There's surely a reason why I call it a hiding place. This place has more doors than a normal house. There's so many get away that the ten children could run away in less than 5 minutes. It appears that wasn't enough to save the boys. The five men barge into our place in the middle of the night. The three youngest boys were sleeping in my bedroom that night. I woke them up and I asked to Charles if he remembered where the Musketeers garrison was. He nodded yes letting me know that he remembered. So I ordered him to take the other three with him and to run as fast as he can to the garrison. Then I grabbed my sword and I went to save and to make sure the other boys could run away. When I got out to my room I saw that there were more than five men. They were holding pistols and were aiming to the boys. They were blocking every exits and it was impossible for them to run away. My only thoughts were locked onto the four youngest of the group—I hoped they were okay.
"Where is it?" one of them asked
"Where is what?" I asked back
"The purse that you stole," he clarified. Apparently everyone is after this letter and I can understand why. "You can keep the livres that were in it but we want the letter"
"I would tell you exactly what I said to the musketeers I don't have this letter in my position" My voice was strong but inside I was terrified for the boys. "Now you can let the boys go." They smiled and that scared me
"Well, I don't believe you. Maybe you need a little persuasion." He said and then he shot one of the boys in the head.
It was Jean. He was thirteen and he wanted to write stories for people to read. I taught to read and to write and he was good at it. He wrote a little story once. It was about a beautiful lady and she was a heroin. She saves people and she runs a lot. And she is really intelligent. It was a beautiful story and he would have been a great writer. But now he was dead and that was my fault.
"Are you convinced now?" He asked smiling again. Tears were rolling down my face and I gave him the letter. He took it and he read it. Then he burned it. He looked at me again and I saw something that I didn't like. For him I knew too much. He was going to kill me.
"Listen, you have what you came for. So, let the boys go please." I begged for their life.
"I would love to. But I have orders." That's all he said before his men shot the boys.
They didn't shoot me. Well, I thought they didn't. But I was too hurt to even notice anything that could happen to me. I didn't feel anything anymore. They went out once they killed the boys. I didn't know what to do. I was crying so hard and my legs gave away. I went to Jean. I cradled him in my arms and I cried over his dead body—repeating that I was sorry that he forgave me for everything. There was blood everywhere. The men have set the house into flames. I had just enough time to leave. I don't remember how I did it. I don't remember how I arrived to the garrison but I was there.
