Chapter 15
Unsure of what to expect, Jacqueline cautiously made her way into the throne room of the palace. Louis was waiting, dressed casually in a red silk robe and without his usual wig and make-up. He was seated on the throne, his elbows on his knees and the bridge of his nose resting against his fingers. The young monarch glanced up when he heard her enter and smiled.
"LePonte."
Jacqueline came to attention. "You wanted to see me, Sire?"
"Yes, I did. Please…have a seat." He gestured to the chair next to him, where his mother usually sat.
"I-I can't. That's the Queen's throne."
"I'm well aware of that, LePonte. It's just us here, and if I say you can sit, that means it's okay."
"Well…alright." After a moment's hesitation, she sat where the King had indicated, forcing herself to ignore how strange it felt to be occupying a seat meant for royalty. As she did, Louis' expression turned serious.
"Captain Duval told me what happened to your family. I'm sorry. Maybe if I'd done something about Mazarin sooner…."
Jacqueline shook her head. "It's not your fault, Sire. You couldn't have known."
Louis scratched his chin. "I did know…at least, I had my suspicions. I'm not as empty-headed as most people seem to think."
"I'm not sure I understand, Your Majesty."
Louis smiled. "It's simple, really. If my enemies think me a foolish boy, they'll underestimate my abilities. They'll become overconfident, and that's where I gain the advantage."
"That's not exactly what I meant, Sire. Pardon me if this seems a bit forward, but if you suspected Mazarin of wrongdoing before now, why didn't you take action?"
Louis sighed. "You know, LePonte…sometimes, I envy you musketeers. You see injustice, you fight it. I'm afraid that's a luxury I don't always have. My political situation is rather precarious, to say the least. It seems like half of the nobility—many of them my own relatives—would love nothing more than to see my downfall. I cannot afford to make any mistakes. And Mazarin has quite a few friends in high places. I even think that my own mother might be among them."
"The Queen?"
He nodded. "I don't wish to speculate on the nature of their relationship, but I do know that she seems to have a bit of a blind spot where the cardinal is concerned. I was afraid that if I tried to accuse him of anything without solid proof, it would turn her against me. And if I lost her support…well, I really don't know what I'd do. Especially given what I now know about my parentage. If the truth ever came out, those who seek my downfall would have all the ammunition they need to remove me from power." Another sigh. "Anyway…I wish I'd had the courage to do something about Mazarin before now…that I'd at least found a way to keep him on a shorter leash rather than allow him to run freely about, building his cult. Perhaps if I had, your father and brother would still be alive and you'd have no need of a disguise."
Jacqueline stared at Louis for a moment, unsure if she'd heard him right. "Disguise, Sire? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."
The King smiled, laying a gentle hand on the musketeer's arm. "It's alright, Jacqueline. I know everything. Have for awhile now, actually. Mazarin isn't the only one with spies all over France."
"I-I don't understand. You knew, but you allowed me to remain in the musketeers? Why?"
"If circumstances had been a bit different, I might very well have asked Duval to discharge you—quietly, of course. But if I had forced your identity out into the open, Mazarin would've seized the opportunity to have you killed and the musketeers disbanded, neither of which I wanted to see happen. Besides," he grinned. "Exactly how many male musketeers can say that they walked in off the street and earned their commission by out-fencing the son of the Legend? Man or woman, there's no denying that you're one of the best musketeers I've ever seen."
Jacqueline felt her cheeks begin to warm in embarrassment. "Really? I don't know what to say, Your Majesty."
Louis winked at her. "Well, I would hope you'd agree to stay."
"Why would I leave, Sire?"
"Now that Mazarin's power is diminished, I have every intention of granting both you and your brother full pardons. I know it won't do much good in his case, but at least Gerard Roget won't be remembered as a criminal. My question is, how should I handle yours? Captain Duval told me the story your comrades came up with—the one about how 'Jacqueline' died alongside Gerard, leaving her 'twin' Jacques as the only member of the family left alive. So does that story stand, or do you wish to return to your old life as Jacqueline? If you did, I'm sure I could find some loophole that would allow you to remain a musketeer, but it is up to you."
"Tempting as that sounds, Your Majesty," she said, giving him a small smile, "I feel that it would be best if Jacqueline Roget remained dead. Having a woman serving openly in the musketeers would only give your enemies ammunition against you, and I would be remiss in my duties if I allowed such a thing to happen."
Louis nodded. "Very well…if that is your wish. The pardons shall be issued posthumously, and Jacques LePonte shall remain a musketeer for however long you desire to do so."
"Thank you, Sire. You are most generous." She rose to leave, thinking that they were done, but Louis gestured for her to sit back down.
"That is not the only thing I wished to discuss with you, Jacqueline."
"Sire?"
"Captain Duval…he's not as young as he used to be, and his leg pains him more and more with each passing day. He's told me that he wishes to retire sometime in the next few years, once a suitable replacement has been found and properly trained."
"I understand, Your Majesty, but what has that to do with me?"
Louis stood up. "I'd like you to be that replacement, Jacqueline…I mean Jacques."
"Me?" she squeaked, once again sure that she was hearing things.
"Yes, you."
"But why? Surely there's someone else you could ask…someone with more experience. I haven't even been in the corps for a year yet."
"True, but you have qualities that no amount of experience could give you. You're smart, you're loyal, you have good instincts, your skill with a blade is all but unmatched, you're a natural leader, and, perhaps most importantly, you understand the importance of discretion."
"Discretion, Sire?"
"As captain, your job won't merely be to run the garrison. You'll also be a sort of unofficial advisor to me, as well as the head of my spy network—the real one, not the one whose names were on that list that almost went missing. My real spies aren't on any sort of official record. You won't have to go on any sort of secret missions or anything, but the agents will be reporting to you."
She nodded. "I think I understand, Sire. But what about the whole 'advisor' thing? Don't you have enough of those?"
"I do have plenty of advisors, it's true. But most of them are nobles, whose own personal interests often take precedent over what's best for France. That's where you come in. I know I can trust you to put the people first. Right?"
"Of course, Your Majesty."
"Good. Also, I'll be counting on you to help preserve my own 'disguise'…to do what needs to be done for the good of France while allowing me to maintain the appearance of a mindless dandy in front of the Royal Court. Can I trust you to do that?"
"You can, Sire. But…well…I'm just not sure I'm ready to take on that sort of responsibility. Not yet."
He chuckled. "Easy, LePonte. Captain Duval isn't going anywhere yet. He's promised to stay on and train you. You won't be captain until he feels you are ready."
"Captain Duval knows you're asking me?"
"Yes, and he agrees that you're the best person for the job."
Her eyes widened. "He does?"
"Is it really that surprising, considering the things you've done in your short time in the garrison?"
"I suppose not."
"So, does that mean you accept?"
"Yes, but I do have one request."
"Oh?"
"I understand what you said about discretion, but I would like your permission to share at least some of these things with my comrades, Siroc and Ramon. The three of us are a team, and I know I won't be able to do this job without Siroc's knowledge to guide me and Ramon's unshakable optimism and good nature to keep me going."
Louis smiled. "I knew I made the right choice. Most men would've been arrogant enough to believe that they didn't need help. You, on the other hand, are humble enough to recognize that you can't go it alone and know which men have the strengths you need to compliment your own."
"Is that a yes, Sire?"
He laughed. "Of course it is. Who am I to break up such an effective team? You'll still be the one with the rank of captain, but I have no problem with you making Siroc and Ramon your lieutenants when the time comes."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
"You're welcome. That is all for now…Sergeant."
Jacqueline rose from the chair as he spoke, and nearly tripped when she heard that last part. "S-sergeant?"
"That's right. Can't have my future captain toiling away as a lowly private now, can I? Don't worry, Siroc and Ramon will be getting promotions as well. Just don't mention that to them…not yet. I'll be announcing it at the coronation, and I want it to be a surprise."
"Of course, Sire. Thank you."
"Again, you're welcome." Smiling, Jacqueline gave a slight bow before heading to the door. "Oh, and LePonte?"
"Yes?" she asked, turning to face the King.
"Watch your head." He winked, then picked up an apple from a nearby tray and started eating. Sitting down, he lounged across the throne as he ate. Jacqueline stared at him a moment, a little confused by that last comment, but finally just shrugged it off and headed out the door.
As she left the palace, Jacqueline once again felt the increasingly familiar sensation of another immortal. But, instead of following Siroc's orders, she drew the cutlass from her jacket and moved to investigate. Probably not the brightest move she'd ever made, but something told her that this wasn't the time to run.
Her search took her to the grounds outside the Queen's bedchamber, where she saw a figure dressed in black rappelling down the wall from Her Majesty's window. The figure froze as she approached, looking around as if unsure whether to go back up or continue down. Grinning mischievously, Jacqueline decided to solve the intruder's problem herself. She hurled the cutlass at the wall just over the figure's head, severing the rope and sending whoever it was to the ground.
Not wanting to waste another second, Jacqueline rushed over, snatching the cutlass from where it had fallen and moving to stand over the intruder, who was trying to rise. "Don't move," she commanded, bringing the tip of the blade just underneath the person's chin. "Who are you, and what were you doing in Her Majesty's room?"
"Wait…that was the Queen's room? I must've taken a wrong turn somewhere….Sorry about that. I'll just be on my way, now…." The intruder, who Jacqueline now knew to be a woman based on the voice, attempted once again to stand. Shaking her head, the female musketeer placed a foot on the woman's chest to halt her progress.
"Nice try. Amanda, I presume?"
At that, the woman reached up and removed the dark mask she'd been wearing, revealing her dark hair and deceptively young features. "I see my reputation precedes me. And you are…?"
"Sergeant Jacques LePonte of His Majesty's musketeers. And you're under arrest."
"What for?"
"Trespassing, for one. And I'm guessing that the contents of that bag don't exactly belong to you."
"You can't prove that."
"Oh really?" Keeping the blade trained on Amanda's throat, Jacqueline slowly moved over to the bag in question and picked it up. One glance inside told her all she needed to know. "Care to explain how the Queen's prized jewels wound up in here?"
Amanda froze a moment as she thought. "Leprechauns?"
Jacqueline rolled her eyes. "Right…you really expect me to believe that?"
The thief shrugged her shoulders. "Worth a shot."
"Not really. On your feet…now." She gestured with the blade, and Amanda quickly complied.
"You know…it doesn't have to be this way," Amanda drawled, moving uncomfortably close to Jacqueline. "I'm sure you and I could work something out. I do love a man in uniform." She seductively ran her hand along the musketeer's chest, then slowly made her way southwards. Thinking quickly, Jacqueline used the flat of her blade to halt the hand's progress before Amanda could discover what 'Jacques' was lacking.
"Sorry…not interested."
Amanda pulled her hand back, looking almost insulted. "What kind of man are you?"
"You're never going to find out, that's for sure."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
Jacqueline scowled. "What it means, Amanda—if that's even your real name—is that your tricks just aren't going to work this time. You're coming with me."
"Ooh," the immortal thief cooed, batting her eyes. "Is that a promise?"
The female musketeer brought her blade up to Amanda's throat, definitely not amused. "You should consider yourself fortunate that I'm in a good mood. I'd be well within my rights to just take your head right here and now. Stealing from the Royal family is treason—a capital crime, punishable by death. Now…are you going to cooperate, or do I save the executioner a trip?"
"You're bluffing," Amanda declared, crossing her arms and staring the musketeer down.
Jacqueline stared back, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Try me."
"Alright…if you insist." From out of nowhere, she suddenly produced an elegant one-handed broadsword. Unfortunately, Jacqueline didn't have time to wonder how she did it, as the blade was quickly thrust in her direction. She had to bring her own blade away from Amanda's throat in order to parry, taking away her advantage. And it soon became apparent that she'd severely underestimated the thief's abilities. She found herself on the defensive, and Siroc's previous warnings about facing someone with centuries of practice were proving true. Good as Jacqueline was, Amanda always seemed to be two steps ahead.
Not ready to give up just yet, the musketeer made one last-ditch effort to turn the fight around. She started to lunge, then dropped down as Amanda moved to parry and attempted to sweep her legs. But, as luck would have it, the move cost her. The thief leapt up to avoid the blow, launching a kick at Jacqueline's right shoulder as she came back down. Sure enough, the move sent her sprawling to the ground, the sword flying just out of reach. Next thing Jacqueline knew, Amanda was standing over her, the broadsword hovering just over her throat.
"It would seem the tables have turned. Such a pity, too. I thought the musketeers were supposed to be the best swordsmen in France."
"If you're going to kill me, please…just make it quick."
Amanda rolled her eyes. "Please…. I'm not in the habit of killing children. Besides, taking your head would leave such an awful mess. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll take my leave." Grinning, she picked up her bag and started to walk away. Still determined to do her duty, Jacqueline climbed back to her feet, pulling her pistol and aiming it at the immortal.
"I don't think so. You may be immortal, but you're still a thief, and it's my sworn duty to take you in. So turn around, drop your sword and the bag, and I promise to make this as painless as possible."
"Alright, fair enough." Amanda quickly complied, and Jacqueline moved in to make the arrest. It seemed too easy, but she wasn't about to let this thief slip away. Unfortunately, that determination soon proved to be her undoing. Before Jacqueline realized that she'd been had, something heavy smashed into her temple, and she knew no more.