Chapter 21

Elise kept her promise. The next few days went by and no grotesque rumours were heard about the former lieutenant of the Musketeers, the omniferous scandal never happened. D'Artagnan had endured several nights with little sleep and many fears, but gradually she gained confidence. Even in herself again, that she would not betray herself in front of others, that she was able to keep her disguise intact, even if Elise had seen through her in a moment of weakness.

There was no further dangerous hostility from the Musketeers or their allies either. Tréville, too, kept his promise and d'Artagnan desperately wanted to believe that he did not despise her for her decision to have defected to the Cardinal's Red Guard. Her self-chosen mission to remain silent for him and Rochefort had taken a twist. Although she had involuntarily sworn allegiance to the cardinal, d'Artagnan continued to defy him by taking herself out of the game as a bargaining chip against Tréville. There was no way back for her and whatever might be lurking in the future lay in the dark.

None of the guardsmen seemed to suspect the truth about d'Artagnan. Perhaps they wondered what was troubling their new comrade and what made him seem so brooding, even withdrawn. But since they knew d'Artagnan from the beginning as someone who kept 'his' privacy, they accepted her idiosyncrasies. They blamed it on the concern for Sorel, who was still recovering from the attack, and on d'Artagnan's self-reproaches about it.

They chose the right course of action by leaving her alone for the time being, because after a few days d'Artagnan started to thawed and was more relaxed in the presence of the other guardsmen. She was also a little more talkative, and they could even hear one or two subtle jokes coming out of her mouth instead of gruff monosyllables. At one point, Biscarat even claimed to have seen a secret smirk before d'Artagnan behaved in her usual reserved manner and fled to sentry duty.

After a while, she also rejoined the others in the guardroom more impartially, listening to the anecdotes and betting at the dice and card games. As long as they did not ask her about personal matters, to which she only reacted with a blank expression and a shrug, but wanted to hear her opinion on duties, things were fine between her and the guardsmen.

Jussac watched all this attentively, on the one hand satisfied and on the other sceptical. He had delegated part of his duties to d'Artagnan, because with the probationary period passed, the other lieutenant would soon get the commission back. Then they had to function as an officer's team.

But Jussac was unable to overcome an underlying, constantly gnawing doubt. It was not because he would not have recognised the other officer's competence. Nor did their rival, hostile past matter any more. They were both sensible enough to accept the changed situation as a given. With the arrest of Lécuyer, they had found mutual respect; Jussac owed his life to d'Artagnan and he was willing to trust the other lieutenant as he did any of his men.

But his doubts remained and he understood more and more with every evasive answer, every hidden thought behind an inscrutable mien, where they came from; d'Artagnan seemed incapable of trusting others.

Jussac was not interested in the personal affairs that d'Artagnan so urgently wanted to conceal from them all. But he had to be able to rely on the fact that his orders and decisions would not be questioned, that they would be implemented and that d'Artagnan would act in the regiment's best interests if he himself was not present - or it was better to transfer the former musketeer to another corps.

The decision was almost overdue and Jussac was brooding over it at that very moment when the door to the guardroom opened.

D'Artagnan hesitated on the threshold when she noticed the lieutenant of the guards at his favourite seat not far from the fireplace, engrossed in a book as he so often did during his break. Perhaps it was appropriate to return later and allow Jussac his well-deserved rest.

He took the decision from her. He had noticed her entrance and eyed her over the edge of the book. Now he lowered it and pointed to the free seat by the fireplace. D'Artagnan accepted the invitation, and laid a closely-written paper on the table. »The sentry list.«

Jussac glanced at the roster. It appeared to be complete, only Sorel's absence still had to be compensated for. His recovery was progressing well, he would soon be able to return to duty. Jussac nodded. »It will be posted as soon as the captain has given his blessing.«

»Understood.« With that, d'Artagnan could have retreated, but Jussac seemed to be in a grim mood today and he had not yet given her a sign to leave him alone again. So she stayed, daring to remark jokingly about her own skills, to brighten his mood, »Captain Luchaire seems content with any reasonably workable sentry list.«

»As long as the list is my responsibility, he can rely on it to be more than reasonably workable. I concern myself with it not just since yesterday.«

»Nor have I. Ah, but you haven't yet served under a captain infatuated with immaculate sentry lists!«

Jussac frowned. Was this a joke? A real, true joke that d'Artagnan was making, towards him of all people, Jussac, who in recent days had always been met with particular caution in conversation, as if he could read minds and find out the most secret truths? »So the great Monsieur de Tréville indeed also has a weakness?«

A shadow fell upon d'Artagnan's face, too fleetingly to be noticed. »Perfect rosters, yes. But you did not hear that from me!«

»I shall not betray a word, should I ever smuggle a faulty sentry list onto Tréville's desk, to drive him to insanity.« Jussac folded his book shut and eyed d'Artagnan again. He did not quite know how to assess the change of heart from steady defensiveness to frank humour. How much jest was there really in it? »He is a strict captain?«

»Indeed he is! Do not be deluded by the bustle of the Musketeers' headquarters. At on word the men stand ready, no less orderly and obedient than the guards.«

»The deception is almost verging on perfection.« Jussac waved it off placatingly in case his own caustic sense of humour had been misunderstood. »Now that I know you better and can assess you, I see that the Musketeers are not mere brawlers.«

»Not only do we brawl, but we fence quite decently!«

»I notice it at every weapons exercise in the courtyard.«

»Was that a praise?«

»An observation. Bernajoux can still learn from you.«

»The feeling is mutual.« There was no false modesty speaking out of d'Artagnan, it was also an observation. She had become a valuable addition to the regiment and in turn embraced the new experiences. There was only one problem and Jussac took advantage of the moment, as d'Artagnan was more relaxed and amenable than usual.

»You know, there is no more we for you.«

D'Artagnan blinked puzzled. Then it dawned on her what Jussac meant and she returned his look firmly. »There will always be a we. I will not forget the Musketeers, even if I have chosen a different fate.«

»I hope you know your loyalties so well if in the face of a conflict.«

»Are you questioning my loyalty to the Red Guard?«

»I do.«

D'Artagnan was stunned by Jussac's honest, unconcealed doubts about her. She feigned to be unaffected by the fierce reproach, but lost the eye-duel with him in the same second. »That was a frank word, Sir.«

»You are still stick to Tréville, that's obvious.«

»He is a good captain; he was so to me for a long time.«

»Good enough to cede you to Richelieu as soon as it was a question of his own neck.«

»What do you know?!« exclaimed d'Artagnan infuriated, and fell silent again immediately, her eyes fixed on that cracked tile on the fireplace behind Jussac.

The lieutenant was unimpressed. »I know too little to be able to make a final judgement. You've passed a trial, but you have yet to prove your loyalty. My report is pending.«

»The cardinal must be eagerly awaiting that report. What shall I do to prove my loyalty to him and to you? Should I go and provoke some musketeers to a duel? Or make up a compromising story about Tréville? I could also arrest his friends again. Ah, now I know! I'll throw myself into the next shot, I'll let myself be pierced or slain. Nothing proves more than death in the line of duty!«

»Yes, I expect so.«

»...what?«

»I expect you to catch every bullet, every bolt, every dagger thrust and every sword stroke against His Eminence. You are his guard now, it is your damned duty!«

D'Artagnan fell silent and, weighed down by a burden, slouched her shoulders. Yes, she was still stick to her former regiment, to her captain. But she also felt a growing loyalty to the Red Guard, to her new comrades. Jussac made it abundantly clear that, no matter how dutiful she was, how hard she tried, he did not believe her change of heart.

»... how shall I be able to prove to you that I serve with my life without having already sacrificed it?« she asked. »You set me an impossible task to accomplish.«

»Perhaps that is so. Words alone will not convince me. I see that you are dedicated to service, but beyond that-« Jussac hesitated and frowned. Beyond that, d'Artagnan had already leapt between him and a bullet. Instead of taking cover and abandoning Jussac to his fate. Had confronted Tréville to prevent further harm to the guardsmen. Faced hostility coming from two regiments to protect others, and, after a friendly attempt to talk to Jussac, to joke and restore normality, was now once again completely withdrawn.

The crack in the tile seemed to have deepened since last time. D'Artagnan was still staring at it. She had dared too much in trying to have a casual conversation with Jussac. »I cannot do more than fulfil my duty. I do not flee from it, and I am willing to risk my life not only for the king but for the cardinal.«

»I believe you.« Jussac had at last realised the problem. It was he himself who had hitherto refused the last step. »You have indeed fitted in as I demanded. You belong here.«

The last sentence was not merely acceptance; d'Artagnan could interpret the apology in it. »If you can tolerate me.«

»Born of necessity, I can,« Jussac said sarcastically. »I may not make quite as fantastic a superior as Tréville is. But you should nevertheless trust me and dare to speak frankly more often.«

»Ah, so that is it all about! You are jealous!«

»For heaven's sake, you Gascons! No sooner are you allowed a frank word than you become cheeky! Pack off, d'Artagnan! Bring Luchaire the sentry list and then join the next patrol!«

»Yes, Sir!« D'Artagnan jumped up and saluted briskly. Jussac's acknowledgement had given her new courage. He had asked for trust. At some point it would no longer be possible to avoid revealing a secret. She could hardly have given a greater proof of trust. But it was too early for that, far too early. It would have to suffice for today that they would get along better after this conversation.

She went and Jussac watched her go, shaking his head. He let this Gascon get away with too much things, for which he would have straighten others out already. There was still a lot he did not understand or misjudged about d'Artagnan.

He pondered a few thoughts for a moment longer, pros and cons, but then he took quill and paper. Even if there were still inconsistencies, but the Red Guard could use good men and so he wrote his final report to Richelieu.