This more or less follows the scenario in the Musketeers series. ( but my own take on it and fitting the concept of my storyline)...one of the first attempts on Richelieu's life.
Most of the medical stuff in this chapter is correct. Bleeding was common practice in the 17th century. The fact that it weakened the patient, rather than doing good, was not recognised. It was considered efficacious to release bad 'choler', such as infection or toxins. Ipecacuanha was discovered from South America in around 1600 and was known as 'vomit root' it was widely used by The Cardinal's time as an emetic.
CHAPTER FIVE.
I WILL GIVE.
The sound of the carriage woke her. It was the middle of the night. She rose, quickly and dressed herself.
The welts on her back had almost healed. They were a reminder to The Cardinal, of what he had done to her, and she liked to make sure he saw them when they were together. He never made mention of that evening, never referred to it at all. But he had released her from the harness and was more gentle with her subsequently.
She was unaware that her maid was now supplying food to Sophie, and that it was upon Richelieu's instructions.
On reaching the hall, she was surprised to see The Cardinal's manservant, pacing restlessly.
She looked at him questioningly.
"He is sick." He began, wringing his hands, "he is asking for you. Will you come?"
"I'll get my things." She replied without hesitation.
Entering his chamber, the manservant by her side, she was in time to see his physician, beside the bed, and lancet in his hand. The Cardinal had a porcelain bleeding bowl under his elbow, his life blood flowing freely into it.
She glanced at the servant and signalled him with a frown and a shake of her head.
"That's enough." The retainer said, tugging the doctor's arm. The physician made to protest, but the stern look the servant gave him, changed his mind. Taking the bowl, he moved away and left the room.
Minette sat on the edge of the bed.
"Take his arm," she instructed the Man," press firmly over that incision with your thumb, until I say to stop."
Richelieu was not unconscious, but very nearly so.
To her surprise the servant obeyed her, without question. She reached across to his face, lifting his eyelids in turn, then feeling for the pulse at his wrist.
"When was he taken ill? She asked briskly.
"After supper," the Man replied.
"Why did you not come for me sooner?" She cried.
"We didn't know what was wrong, we thought he was just mildly unwell, then he became suddenly worse, so we called the physician, but he kept asking for you...so..."
"What did he eat and drink at supper? She asked, placing her hand on his hot forehead.
"A little wine, a chicken dish, with sauce, and mushrooms. Some bread..."
"Mushrooms? Who prepared the food?"
"The new cook, he came recommended, he started last week...oh my Lord!" He gasped, "poisoned?"
"I think so, and it's bad. I need someone to go to the Apothecary, I need some Ipecacuanha, and I need it quickly, you had better send someone who can run, if you can't yourself and you need to hurry...GO...QUICKLY!"
The servant dropped his master's arm and fled, without a word.
Minette turned to her Lord and Master. His pulse was weak, his breathing laboured, the physician bleeding him had weakened him further, if he fell into unconsciousness he would not be able to swallow, and she needed him to be able to do that.
She pushed her arm underneath his head and raised it, slapping his cheeks lightly,
"Armand! Armand! Wake up! Open your eyes. Come on, do it. Do it for me."
His eyelids opened, as if weighted with lead.
"Minette?" He murmured.
"Yes, I'm here, my Lord...and I need you to wake, and talk to me. Come along now, sit up a little."
He tried to raise himself, but couldn't manage.
"You've been poisoned, and I need you to stay awake, you need to fight it. Armand, you need to stay alive. Talk to me."
She hauled him up with all her strength, supporting his head.
"You came." His words were slurred. "I didn't think you would."
"Of course I came, you are my Master, I am yours." She replied.
His head fell back, but she pulled it forward...
"No...no sleeping, come on, you need to stay awake!"
He was slipping under,
"God in Heaven, be quick," she cried, " just a few more minutes, please Lord." Her prayer uttered, aloud.
The servant entered, breathless, carrying a glass vial.
"Thank God," she sighed. "Put a few drops in some water, quickly man."
Holding the glass to Richelieu's lips, and with the retainers help, she made him drink.
"Armand...drink this, drink it down, come on now...please."
The liquid ran down his throat, and he swallowed, with a cough and a splutter.
She set down the glass, and turned back to the servant,
"This will work rapidly," she said, "you need to help me, it's going to make him very very sick indeed."
Together they helped the Cardinal to the edge of the bed, his head flopping over. Minette held a bowl between his knees. It was not long before he was beset by cramping stomach pains, he groaned and cried out, and began to writhe in agony.
"What have you done to him?" The servant looked terrified.
"I'm trying to save him." She replied, "the only way I know how, if we leave him, he will die."
With that Richelieu began to heave and retch, sweat breaking on his brow, and trickling down his face. His curly head was soaked, and plastered down, his face grey and pallid. He vomited over and over again, until he was exhausted and there was nothing but bile.
The hours ticked by, the first signs of dawn found the manservant asleep in the Cardinal's chair. Minette was at her Master's bedside, he too was sleeping peacefully. While she laved his forehead with a cool damp cloth. His chest rose and fell evenly, eyelids fluttering slightly as he slumbered. His hands spread on top of the coverlet, twitched from time to time. She was so weary that her body felt numb, but she couldn't rest until he was sure he was out of danger.
Finally her head drooped, her eyes closing. With her fingers clasping his, she let her forehead sink down until it rested on their two hands.
Armand Jean Du Plessis opened his eyes on a day, that by rights, he should never have seen. Turning his head on the pillow, he saw Minette resting there. The cloth beside her hand where she had relinquished her grip on it. He saw his faithful Man, snoring blissfully.
Raising himself slightly, the movement painful and slow, he felt terribly weak, but he was alive. He had been saved. He hardly knew how.
His motion stirred the sleeper, she raised her head languidly, her long hair was loose, down her back, her eyes red rimmed, her face weary.
"Master?" She whispered. His fingers tightened on hers.
The servant joined them.
"Let us say a prayer of thanks for my deliverance," he said, he took one of each of their hands in his own and recited a collect of thanksgiving, to which they both ended, "Amen."
Whilst Minette removed herself to freshen her face. The servant remained close by his master.
"What happened?" The Cardinal questioned him.
"She saved you, my Lord," he replied, " as God is my witness, Sire, she knew what to do, you would have died, I'm sure of it. I doubted her at first, but she alone saved you. She didn't hesitate."
"You may go, get some rest."
The servant bowed and left quietly.
Minette returned, walking wearily. He called her to his side.
"How did you know what to do, are you a witch?" He asked, a slight smile on his lips.
"I have an older brother, Master, he is an Apothecary. It is not considered proper education for a young woman, but I was interested, and I'm a fast learner, so he taught me all the lotions and potions, all the poisons and their antidotes, all the healing herbs and roots, berries and leaves, and how to use them. That's how. I'm not a witch, I assure you!"
He was kissing her then, warmly, tenderly, his hand touching her cheek.
"Go home," he whispered. "Rest. I'll send the carriage for you tomorrow."
"You deserve a reward for this." He said, as she stood, to leave.
"No reward, Master, you are alive. That is reward enough."
She turned and left him. His eyes following her until she disappeared through the doorway.
That evening he instructed his housekeeper to find employment for Sophie, as a seamstress or a maid, anywhere where there was a vacancy in his household. That would be Minette's reward.
But he would not tell her just yet.