Well, what a fraught 48 hours it has been, with the Fan Fiction gremlins wreaking havoc with our updates! Chapter Six was uploaded on Wednesday as usual, but it did not show up, and I have been unable to see any readership stats. So I really don't know how many people have read Chapter Six. Therefore, my apologies if I have not acknowledged any reviews, but hopefully, it is all sorted out now. Time will tell, dear readers.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Two days later, Captain Treville met with Cardinal Richelieu once more. Both had something to prove; it was imperative that Henrietta Maria return back to Le Havre safely. Treville had lost face with the King when his Musketeers were attacked, and had endured an uncomfortable audience with him. His was a new regiment and he now must seek to rebuild their reputation. But Richelieu will not entrust the Queen Consort solely to the Musketeers. Richelieu wants his Red Guard to pursue the assassins, and Treville wants his Musketeers to do so.
However, it would not do for a large contingent of French soldiers to chase across the country in pursuit of English assassins and this operation had to be low key; but the assassins must be stopped.
Finally, after much deliberation and recrimination, they both reached an agreement; they would each supply a capable man to undertake the mission.
Two such men would therefore be found and presented at 5.00 a.m. on Monday of the following week in Richelieu's apartments in the Louvre.
oOo
At 5.00 a.m. on the appointed day, Treville rode to the Palace with Porthos alongside him.
Stabling their horses, they moved quickly inside the Palace, where Treville asked Porthos to wait for him outside Richelieu's apartments while he went in to meet with the Cardinal. Porthos had kitted up for the mission that Treville has briefly outlined, prior to their departure. The meeting with the Cardinal was to finalise arrangements and discuss the Queen Consort's departure.
One hour later, Treville and Richelieu emerged. Treville pointed Porthos toward the outer room and then he and Richelieu left.
Porthos stepped into the room, which appeared to be empty, but he was aware he was not alone. Behind a screen in the corner, someone was waiting.
Porthos walked further into the room, confused. Treville had not explained himself and he was unsure what was happening.
"Show yerself," he growled, peering toward the screen.
A young man stepped from the shadows. He seemed equally unsure, but appeared to relax when he saw Porthos.
"I know you," he smiled at Porthos.
Porthos looked him over.
"You think so?" he said, hooking his thumbs in his belt and drawing himself up to his full intimidating height.
The young man merely smiled wider,
"Bagarreur" he said. "You are the brawler," he added, knowingly.
"Have I 'ad your acquaintance?" Porthos cocked his head on one side, sizing this lad up; although he could see he probably looked younger than he was.
"Not personally, no – I tend to steer clear," the young man laughed.
"Sorry, you got me," Porthos replied, becoming irritated.
The young man stepped fully out of the shadows then and raised his hands in supplication.
"My name is Aubin Fabron; I believe the Cardinal intends us to work together," he replied.
Porthos was taken aback; it was the first he had heard of it.
"Say what?" he answered roughly.
Aubin Fabron pulled his cloak around him, and Porthos saw the flash of red lining.
"You're Red Guard?!" he hollered in distain.
Aubin bowed.
"I am. And you are the Musketeer brawler; I feel safe in your company," he said, giving Porthos another small bow, the smile still on his face.
Porthos frowned, but then light dawned.
"The Wren!" he growled.
"The very same," Aubin replied, crossing the room to collect his weapons.
"You don't look like a Red Guard," said Porthos warily, eyeing the man's skinny frame.
"Well, my features are all still in the right place. Though I must say, you, Bagarreur, do not always look like a King's Musketeer."
Porthos laughed out loud at that. This Red Guard must have seen Porthos in various stages of rebelliousness over the last year, as it was Porthos's habit to seek out those who would play cards with him, and inevitably, it would lead to many a falling out over accusations of cheating. He wondered why they still played cards with him, but such was their brain power, he was not complaining. He had won more times than he had lost after all.
"My name is Porthos," he said, "Porthos du Vallon."
Aubin Fabron did not reach out a hand but did nod in acknowledgement of finally having a name to go with the face.
"There are some of us who are in it for the right reasons, Porthos du Vallon. I have no argument with the Musketeers. Had I been born of the nobility, I may be standing beside you, but I am the lowly son of a blacksmith."
Porthos sniffed.
"Nothin' wrong with that," he said, "The Musketeers ain't all of noble birth, but we all earn our place."
Aubin looked surprised at that, he had thought them all high born; but did not comment.
Porthos, though, was still in a challenging mood.
"We're smarter though," Porthos said, turning away.
"But are your fists bigger than your brain, my friend?" Aubin said to his back.
Porthos turned back and flattened him.
Just then, the door opened and Treville stepped into the room to explain the mission more fully.
Eyeing the man on the floor rubbing his jaw, he turned slowly and glowered at his burly soldier.
Porthos had the grace to look embarrassed.
oOo
Both soldiers were now stood six feet apart in an uneasy peace. Treville chose to ignore their mutual animosity. He had expected it; which was why he had left Porthos in the dark until now.
Treville explained that they would both depart immediately and spend four days scouting the countryside, inns and villages for information on the assassins. This was good news to Porthos; he had been itching to draw his revenge on those men.
At 12.00 noon on Wednesday, two days hence, the wagon carrying Henrietta Maria's luggage would leave the Palace for the return journey to Le Havre. It is a journey of over thirty leagues. At the rate a laden wagon and team of horses can travel, it will take some four days, allowing for overnight stops and to take care of the horses, or any repairs.
Porthos and Aubin would search the countryside to rout any assassins who may be following the luggage wagon; and thereby leave the way clear for the royal party to progress and reach their destination safely.
On Friday at noon, two coaches will leave the Palace; the first will transport Henrietta Maria and Cardinal Richelieu. Sir Edmund Temple, Elizabeth Cromwell and Captain Treville will travel in the second. There will be a contingent of fifteen Red Guard.
Their main stop over will be the Royal Hunting Lodge in the Forest of Brotonne, west of Rouen, some nineteen leagues from Paris. The Lodge is just over half way through the journey. Despite its infrequent us, Louis was proud of it.
Everyone was aware that it is during this journey that the Queen will be at her most vulnerable, despite having a Red Guard escort. These assassins had attacked the Musketeers and killed six of them. They were well armed and determined.
From the Hunting Lodge, it will be expected that any threat has been dealt with en route by the two appointed men, and the Queen will be escorted solely by the Cardinal and the Red Guard on the second leg of the journey. Treville will take his leave and return to the Garrison with his man, his responsibility ended. Aubin Fabron will continue with the Red Guard.
If, during their mission, they attracted the attention of the assassins, it would draw some attention away from the Royal party. Treville knew that, and Porthos was also aware that on this mission, as in many others, his survival was not guaranteed, and he and the Red Guard he was reluctantly teamed with, were extendable.
oOo
Later:
Sir Edmund Temple sat in a well-appointed establishment on the outskirts of Paris, where his clothing and demeanour would not draw suspicion with similar attired clientele.
The first part of his plan had been a success. The only intention on the day was to deplete the Musketeers, the elite royal guard.
The English assassins had known not to attack the King's coach on the day of the service; England would not gain from the death of a French King with no heir; there would be too much uncertainty. England would, however, benefit from the death of an unpopular French Catholic queen, who had shown no real interest in her people and had had no constitutional right to be crowned.
Thus, he had ensured they knew only to attack the mounted Musketeers on their way back to their Garrison. By accompanying Treville, he ensured he himself was above suspicion. He had taken a great risk in travelling in the coach and had been shocked by the brutality, but it had been a necessary subterfuge on his part.
In the Palace, he had kept Elizabeth Cromwell close to him, and had therefore been privy to information and gossip from the royal circle that he may otherwise not have had. She obviously disliked him intensely, but knew better than defy him.
Now it was time for the second part of his plan to come into play.
At the appointed time, another man entered the establishment and made his way across the room to sit opposite him. Sir Edmund had only met him once previously, but easily recognised him; the man had been a privateer, working out of ports on the south coast of England. He had a fearsome reputation as a brutal but efficient commander of men.
Payment and a document were passed over. The document contained the time and route back to Le Havre, via the Forest of Brotonne, with a map of the layout of the royal residence within the forest.
"The longest stop-over will be at the royal hunting lodge, it will give ideal cover for your mission," he was told.
The meeting was brief; their business soon concluded.
Sir Edmund stood and made his way out of the building, his hat pulled low over his face. Only a select few knew the arrangements for the return journey. If anyone wondered how the assassins knew the movements of each day, he had a ready scapegoat.
Back from the meeting with Edmund Temple in the tavern, the leader of the ten surviving assassins brought money to them and told them when the coaches would depart. They were given the instructions to head northwest toward Rouen.
Two went ahead and the next day, two more would follow. The remaining six would follow at intervals. They were heading for the Forest, where they would attack, under cover of trees. The group had roamed the countryside for three weeks; they could now all join up at the appointed place and complete their mission.
oOo
Unbeknown to the English assassins, sometime later in Le Havre, a group of Spanish assassins prepare to head east along the road. Their scouts had already been despatched to trail the luggage wagons that had been seen arriving in the port several weeks earlier, and their quarry had been identified in Paris. Their paymasters had been very interested, and had set wheels in motion. Their unit of eight men had sailed the coastline and dropped into Le Havre under cover of darkness.
The Royal party would return by the same route; the only one suitable for laden wagons and coaches. It would be a simple matter to wait for them to make their steady progress into their trap.
They had heard of the Musketeer ambush from one of their spies. Their depletion was an added bonus.
To be continued ...
A/N Bagarreur – brawler; scrapper; feisty.