Chapter Two: Exemplars of a Noble Spirit

Louis reined his prancing stallion at the head of the mighty army of blade-bound that wound its way through the French countryside. It took a few moments for de Batz to notice that the young monarch had stopped. By the time the stalwart Captain did so, the young monarch had already turned his beast and darted, unescorted back into the ranks. Louis may not have been a brilliant strategist or a blooded general, but he had a good eye for faces, and he had seen one he had recognized…one that should not have been there. "Ho there, Henri de La Tour!" the young king called into a knot of guardsmen dressed in tunics of violet and white. Last he had heard, the Vicomte de Turenne fought alongside Condé, and had commanded the French forces in his stead on at least three separate occasions. In fact he had been among the first Captain de Batz named as possible accomplices in the first fronde. Henri was a genius when it came to strategy, and a fit match for the Great Condé. Though, unlike the Bourbon Prince, Henri de La Tour showed great tact and firmness in his treatment of his regiments, often succeeding in restoring order with little bloodshed. La Tour was listed among the enemies of the crown because of his alliance with the rebel princes, but apparently his loyalty had shifted when the blade-bound were called up.

Henri had hoped to blend in with the other soldiers, but now, it appeared that was not to be. The aged general humbly approached his king and knelt, arms crossed on his breast and head bowed as one on the executioner's block. The man idly examined the blade that hung by Louis' side. The weapon was ornate but more than adequate to wrest his head from his shoulders. Blade-bound are made to serve…without question...but not without regret. Henri had relished the opportunity to finally serve a worthy master his rightful King. If his death would accomplish that goal then he was content to meet his end in this way.

Louis threw his leg over his horse's side and slid nimbly down the beast's flank with the agility of one who had been an equestrian since before he could walk. "When were you made blade-bound?" Louis asked the man quietly.

"I-I w-was eleven, M-majesty; when my F-father died, the M-master m-made a p-project of me," the noble stammered. Louis knew the general had practiced long and hard to overcome his slight speech impediment. That it would resurface now in such predominance was a testament to the emotion that sought to overcome the man.

"You have pledged yourself to me?" the young king asked, setting his gauntleted hand on the noble's shoulder.

"Unto death," the general affirmed ardently, without the least stutter. "I was the one responsible for converting your uncle to the prince's cause…I am unworthy of being counted among this host. I die with out honor."

"Then live, General. Live and take back your honor, by force if necessary. Your knowledge of military history is well known and will be a valuable asset. If you have any military suggestions do not refrain from seeking me out or one of the commanders. I want you to live a long time." Louis cast his gaze around at the other violet clad guards. Now that he studied them closely he realized he recognized more than a few of the men. He had not at first because he was more accustomed to seeing them wearing the cardinal's red. Here they stood, Mazarin's missing guards. Louis made eye contact with each one and accepted the undisguised fervor of the blade-bound burning in them. Their loyalty was beyond question. "Use what skills you have without fear—see that these others do like-wise. I am proud to have you men fighting under my banner," he told them, and then easily swung himself back in the saddle to rejoin his bodyguards at the head of the parade. As he was riding away he heard one of the men say to another, "That is OUR king!" And for the first time, Louie felt proud that it was so.

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Emris and Philippe rode considerably farther back in the column. For all anyone knew the somber prince was not the horseman as his brother was. Even so, he could manage the docile brown mare, Buttercup, easily enough. "What really happened between you and de Batz?" the young prince asked his mentor…and savior. But for Emris, Philippe would likely still be imprisoned and locked away behind a mask of leather and steel, not riding beside the most extraordinary war-host the world had ever seen.

The legendary ex-musketeer shook his head sadly. "I lied about my past…betrayed…and nearly killed him. That is not exactly something a friendship can survive."

Philippe frowned. "Emris, you, the queen and my keepers are the only people alive that knew of my existence for much of my life. I was betrayed, lied to and often wished I could die. Since coming to the capital, I have studied. Did you know that my royal grandfather, Henry IV, king of France and Navarre, was beaten everyday, well into his majority? He was a king and a general, but still was subjected to the same torment as I. It was thought such an education would make him strong and keep him humble. I am not saying what was done to either of us was right, and Louis would never permit such treatment to continue. But that period of my life is over. I harbor no ill will against anyone for my treatment. Some of the men who imprisoned me are even now among this host. I know now they had no choice but to obey the orders they had been given. Just as you had no choice but to do as your master bid you. I forgave them…I forgive you. I am free because of that. I want you to be free too."

"From the mouth of babes," Emris whispered, nudging his horse closer to Buttercup so he could pat the prince's knee. "You are gracious and noble, my young lord. Few would be as understanding. People may call us 'legends' but we are just men…sometimes small minded and capable of making grave mistakes."

The prince raised an eyebrow. "I may have been sheltered much of my life Emris, but it is my understanding that EVERYONE makes mistakes. Don't be so hard on yourself."

After that they rode in silence for quite a while, each pondering what the other had said.