Chapter 17

Four days later, the musketeer trio, along with most of the garrison, accompanied His Majesty to Reims for the coronation. The Queen wasn't with them—news of the elder D'Artagnan's death had hit her hard, and she'd elected to remain at her estate in the country to grieve—but everyone else was there who needed to be. Even Mazarin, who was still expected to preside over the ceremony as per his obligation to the Church.

On reaching the Cathedral of Notre-Dame de Reims, Louis didn't waste a second. The ceremony went off without a hitch, although Mazarin looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else. No assassins made any attempts on the King's life, though Louis was wearing his custom-made Impenetrable just in case, and soon he was officially proclaimed Louis XIV, King of France and Navarre. His first official acts as such were to pardon the Rogets, promote his three favored musketeers to Sergeant, and name Jacques LePonte as Captain Duval's eventual successor. The cardinal looked as if he were about to burst a vessel when those pronouncements were made, but somehow managed to hold his peace.

Afterwards, most of the musketeers made their way to a local tavern to celebrate the occasion properly, without the Royal Court watching them. Jacques and Siroc were already packed to go on leave, but figured it wouldn't hurt to have a few drinks first. They joined Ramon at a table near the back, where he was already hard at work romancing the barmaids with his poetry.

Unexpectedly, their arrival was greeted with a loud cheer from their comrades. Drinks were in front of them before they even had a chance to ask, and a young lieutenant named le Beau leapt up on one of the tables, raising his glass. "Gentlemen, I'd like to propose a toast. To our glorious monarch, Louis XIV…."

"Here here," the musketeers responded, raising their own glasses and taking a drink.

"And…," le Beau continued, "to Sergeants Siroc and de la Cruz, and our future captain, Sergeant Jacques LePonte—the new Legends!" There was another loud cheer, and Jacqueline nearly choked on her drink. Chuckling, Siroc promptly pounded on her back a few times to get her breathing right again.

"Did…did he just say…."

"Might as well get used to it, Jacques. It was bound to happen sooner or later." Lifting his glass, Siroc gave the lieutenant a slight nod of thanks before turning back to his friends.

"Good thing D'Artagnan isn't here," Ramon laughed. "Poor guy would probably die of embarrassment."

"And I'd be joining him," Jacqueline muttered, doing her best to hide behind her glass. "Legend…Mon Dieu, I haven't even been a musketeer for a year, yet."

"It's not that surprising, really. People started calling Charles a legend even sooner than that. Believe me, it's easier to just go with the flow."

"I suppose," she sighed. "At least you and I have a month's leave...give me a chance to get used to the idea."

"True."

"So…when do we leave, amigos?"

Now it was Siroc's turn to almost choke. "We?"

Ramon nodded. "The capitan gave me a month off, starting tonight, and I thought I'd join you two. You don't mind, do you?"

"Fine by me," Jacqueline shrugged. "What do you think, Siroc?"

"Uh…yeah…sure….Jacques, can I talk to you for a moment…alone?" He got up, heading to a more secluded area of the tavern, and she quickly moved to follow.

"What's wrong?"

Glancing around to be sure no one else was in earshot, Siroc pulled Jacqueline the rest of the way into the corner he'd found. "We have a problem," he whispered.

"Problem? What kind of problem?"

"Don't you think it's odd that Captain Duval would suddenly be so willing to let three of his best musketeers go on leave for a whole month?"

She shrugged. "So he's in a generous mood. Why are you so paranoid all of a sudden?"

Siroc sighed. "There's something you need to know about the captain. I meant to tell you before, but with everything that's happened, it must've slipped my mind."

"I'm listening…."

"Captain Duval is what's known as a Watcher. For almost as long as immortals have been around, there's been this group of mortals following us…recording every little detail of our lives for posterity on the off-chance that this so-called Game actually has an end and we'll one day cease to exist. Technically, immortals aren't even supposed to know about them, but most of us older ones do since the early Watchers didn't have that pesky 'non-interference' rule. Anyway…Duval has been one since he was a young musketeer recruit, and I think he's trying to bring Ramon into their merry little band."

"So? I still don't see what the big deal is."

"I don't want your name coming up in the chronicles as an immortal…not yet."

"Why not?"

"As secure as those Watchers think their base is, there have been immortals in the past who've infiltrated the organization and used the chronicles to hunt. If your name is in there, you run the risk of becoming a target. And not just for headhunters. Rogue Watchers come up from time to time…use the chronicles to find new immortals so that they can 'cleanse the earth of their evil.' Point is, the longer the Watchers think you're mortal, the safer you'll be."

She nodded. "And how do you propose we keep Ramon from writing about me?"

"Well…we can't tell him not to come. If we do, he'll figure out that we're onto him, and that won't be good. The Watchers don't take very kindly to their field agents being compromised. So I suppose the only thing we can do is keep an eye on him. We'll find something to keep him busy when we head to Rouen, and before we return to the garrison I'll get hold of his journal and edit out anything that could compromise you."

Her eyebrow shot up. "You really think you can mess with his writing without him noticing?"

Siroc grinned. "It just so happens that I'm an expert at forgery."

At that, Jacqueline's other eyebrow joined the first. "Forgery? And you spent all that time ranting about Amanda being so dishonest."

He shrugged. "Live long enough, and you'll be surprised at the sorts of skills you'll pick up on. Trust me, we can pull this off easily. Ramon will never have to know."

"I don't know, Siroc. This doesn't feel right. I mean, Ramon is our friend. How can we lie to him like that?"

"I don't like it either, Jacqueline, but what choice do we have? If Ramon finds out that we know, he could end up dead. And if your name winds up in the chronicles as an immortal this soon, you might be the one who gets killed. This way, at least, no one has to die. Alright?"

"Okay, I suppose you have a point."

"Good. Now let's get back to the table before Ramon decides to send out a search party." She nodded, and the immortals reclaimed their seats just as their Spanish comrade was wrapping up an enthusiastic recitation of the new poem he'd penned the night before, detailing the cardinal's downfall. Naturally, the piece was met with cheers from their comrades, along with most of the tavern's other patrons.

However, as Ramon was taking his bow, a small group of rather unkempt-looking men shot out of their seats, drawing their blades. Former soldiers, put out of work when His Majesty disbanded Mazarin's personal guard. "Spanish filth!" the ringleader spat. "How dare you insult His Eminence in such a manner!"

"Filth?" Ramon shot back. "Have you looked in a mirror lately, muchachos?" The musketeers in the tavern all laughed, which only seemed to make Mazarin's small band of supporters even angrier.

"Cur! How about I come over there and make you eat those fancy words of yours?"

"You and what army?"

"There's five of us and only one of you, you dog!"

Ramon started forward, muttering some rather vile Spanish curses, but Siroc quickly grabbed him and pulled him back. "Perhaps you should learn to count before making threats, Monsieur. It just so happens that there are three of us at this table…not to mention the fact that most of the other tables are also filled with musketeers. Why don't you gentlemen put those swords away before one of you gets hurt?" With that, Siroc turned away, moving to once again reclaim his seat. Unfortunately, Mazarin's supporters weren't quite finished.

"What's wrong? Not man enough to fight us…Ganymede?"

On hearing that name, Siroc stiffened, paused between sitting and standing. Slowly, the immortal drew himself back to full height, forcing back the horrible flashbacks that threatened to come forth. "What did you call me?"

The former guardsman laughed, arrogantly striding towards the musketeer. "You heard me, boy. Tell me, do you provide those services for anyone, or is Captain Bernard special?"

Practically growling, Siroc grabbed the man by the shirt collar, bringing the two of them nose to nose. "Bernard…did he send you here? Did he tell you those things about me?"

"Maybe. What are you going to do about it, boy?"

"What am I going to do? I'm going to leave him a little message." Siroc released his grip on the man's collar, and then, before anyone could stop him, drew a dagger from a hidden sheath behind his back and drove it straight into his heart. The ex-guardsman slumped to the ground, dead, and the immortal turned his glare on the man's comrades. "Tell your master that if he sends anyone else after us, I'll do the same to them." At that, Bernard's remaining henchmen paled and scurried away, leaving the corpse behind.

There were several moments of awkward silence before someone—Lieutenant le Beau—finally spoke. "Go on, Sergeant. We'll take care of this." Not needing to be told twice, Siroc gave him a grateful nod before leaving the tavern himself, with Jacqueline and Ramon trailing after him. He found his way to the stables where they'd left their horses and collapsed in a dark corner near the back, his body trembling as the adrenaline rush faded and the memories he'd tried to suppress forced their way to the front of his mind.

"Siroc?" He heard the voice and felt the hand on his arm, but it took a few moments for the identity of the speaker to register. It was Jacqueline. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head. "You heard what he called me."

"I did, but I don't understand….Who or what is Ganymede?"

"Ganymede," Ramon spoke up, coming in behind her. "Trojan prince…the most beautiful of all mortals. Zeus, the king of the gods, was so taken with him that he transformed himself into an eagle and spirited the boy away to Olympus to be his cupbearer…his beloved. He made Ganymede immortal and eventually found a place for him in the heavens as the constellation Aquarius." The immortals looked at Ramon in awe, and he shrugged. "Señor Velasquez—my tutor—believed that a true gentleman must be well-versed in the classics. I've had Greek and Roman literature drilled into my head from the time I was a boy up until I left for Paris."

Siroc nodded. "Well, you got the story right, more or less. It was actually one of my favorites when I was a child…back when I was still free."

"So what changed?" Jacqueline asked softly.

"Beltranus. It was the only name he ever called me by, and only when he took me to his bed. The rest of the time I was just 'boy' or 'slave.' He fancied himself a god, and wanted me to be the 'Ganymede' to his Zeus. Only it was nothing like the story. I wasn't his 'beloved' anything. He took what he wanted when he wanted it, and would do so violently if I tried to resist." Siroc took a deep, shaky breath, trying to keep from breaking down. "I was only eight the first time he did it…too young to fully understand what he was after. But I learned fast…didn't have a choice, really. None of it was my choice. He used me in the worst possible way up until I was fifteen and starting to grow into manhood, at which point he sold me to the arena. But for those eight years, I was 'Ganymede' whenever he summoned me to take his pleasure. Just like with everything else he's ever touched, Beltranus took something I liked…something I thought was beautiful…and twisted it into something perverse and degrading. 'Ganymede' wasn't a term of endearment…it was his way of reminding me who had the power…that my body was his to command and I had no control. I was nothing but his whore. To this day, I can't hear that name without remembering what he did to me. I even wound up walking out of the theatre the first time I saw As You Like It because of the flashbacks." He sighed. "Bernard must've told that jerk about it, or at least enough for him to know that it would get to me. He's sending me a message…trying to remind me that he still has power over me…or so he thinks." Siroc took another deep breath as he finally managed to collect himself and climb back to his feet. He hadn't intended to reveal so much, but once he'd started, it all came tumbling out. And, oddly enough, it felt good…freeing even. Like a great weight being lifted off of his chest. Not enough to completely erase the pain that the memories brought, but at least it seemed a little more bearable.

Jacqueline and Ramon nodded, still trying to take in all that he'd told them. She'd had some idea of what he'd gone through, but to hear him actually talk about it…. Ramon, for his part, looked absolutely stunned. Obviously, this was all new to him, and he was still trying to wrap his head around the concept.

Finally, Jacqueline broke the silence. "What do you want us to do, Siroc?"

"Bernard will get what's coming to him soon enough. But for now, I think we should head to someplace where he can't touch us."

"Holy ground? We're going to spend our leave in a church?"

"Not exactly."

"The abbey," Ramon chimed in, finally having regained use of his voice.

Siroc nodded. "That's right."

"What abbey?" Jacqueline asked, confused.

"Remember that immortal I told you about? Rebecca Horne?"

"Amanda's teacher?"

"Exactly. She owns an abbey in Normandy—the Abbey of Saint Anne—and I'm sure she wouldn't mind us dropping in for awhile."

"Normandy?" Jacqueline exclaimed. "It will take us at least a week to get there!"

"Actually, it won't. The abbey is just outside of Le Havre. If we ride all day and rest at night, it should take us about four days at most." With that, he went to his own mount and prepared to leave. "Are you packed and ready to go, Ramon?"

"Si. I packed as soon as the capitan told me I had leave."

"Good. Shall we get out of here, then?" Not waiting for a response, he mounted his horse and rode off. Jacqueline and Ramon quickly did the same, urging their mounts into a gallop in order to catch up.