Through Darker Days
Chapter Ten
Aramis arrived at the Cross Keys about eight o'clock. The tavern was busy and it took him a few moments to locate Lacroix. While searching his eyes had slid over Porthos, who was sitting on his own a few tables away from their quarry. The noise level was high and the air hot and odorous. He began to push his way through the crowd, enduring more than a few unfriendly stares and muttered oaths as he used his shoulders and elbows with brisk efficiency. Lacroix offered him a smile which didn't reach his eyes and gestured to a chair.
He had only just sat down when a heavily built woman hurried over with a cup and a bottle of wine. Hair which has once been red was bundled up into an untidy bun. Her smile showed the gap between her two front teeth.
"Who's your friend?" she asked Lacroix.
She looked hungrily at Aramis who began to squirm in his chair. His innate charm came to his rescue as he smiled and took her hand, kissing the roughened skin. "My name is Rene, Madame, and I am a visitor to this fair city."
Her giggle was high pitched and grated on Aramis' ears. With an effort he kept the smile in place as he released her hand.
"Then you are welcome to our tavern, Monsieur. I hope you will visit us again."
"Thank you." He looked to Lacroix for rescue.
"Get about your business, Hilaire." Lacroix looked subtly amused by Aramis' discomfort.
Hilaire's smile disappeared and she turned away with a displeased looked on her face. Aramis sighed in relief and poured his wine.
"I owe you thanks for the rescue, my friend." He raised the cup in salute and took a mouthful. The coarse red wine slid down his throat and settled uneasily on his stomach. Why, he wondered, would a man so obviously wealthy choose to frequent a place like this?
Lacroix wasn't alone although neither of his companions looked like merchants. One was slim with sharp features while the other rivalled Porthos in size and muscles. He wondered if these were the men who had attacked Athos and his fingers twitched as his instinct urged him to draw his sword and demand answers.
"I thought I was to meet other merchants? Your friends don't look like they fall into that category." He was surprised that he managed to keep his tone even and pleasant.
"They are my protection. You never know when the Red Guard or Musketeers might decide to arrest me for my views."
"A wise precaution." The mention of the Musketeers had set his heart racing faster but he didn't think he had done anything to betray his true allegiance.
"I need to be convinced of your sincerity before I introduce you to the others. Some would say our views are treasonous. I can't afford to let just anyone in on our plans."
"I understand. What can I do to prove myself?"
"Tell me about yourself. Why did you decide to come to Paris? These are dangerous times to be Spanish in this city."
Aramis knew that the essence of a good lie was to lace it with kernels of truth. "I was born close to the border. My family ran a small distillery making brandy. It provided us with a good living. For a time I trained for the priesthood but I wanted more adventure in my life. When my father died I sold the business and travelled to Madrid. I purchased an apprenticeship with a goldsmith who had interests in several gold and silver mines. The man was old, without any family, and I became like a son to him. After his passing I found that he had left the business to me. Still, though, I wanted more. I want an empire." Aramis paused, looking embarrassed by his passionate words. "Forgive me. I have said too much. My ambition makes me prideful. Our Lord would not approve." He grasped the jeweled crucifix which never left its place around his neck.
Lacroix's eyes widened as he saw the beautiful workmanship. "It appears you have done well for yourself."
"And now I have wasted resources coming to a country that does not welcome free enterprise." Aramis allowed a bitter note to creep into his voice.
"The King fears Spain. He would be better fearing his own people. His actions have threatened the livelihood of many. Men are angry and that makes them dangerous."
"But what can be done to persuade him to change his mind? I heard about the petition and the audience with the King. If that was unsuccessful then what is left?"
Lacroix leaned back in his chair. "That is a conversation for another day. Come to my home and dine with me tomorrow evening. Dinner is served at seven." He reached into his pocket and brought out a folded piece of parchment which he offered to Aramis. "This is my address."
Aramis took the paper, his stomach churning with the combination of cheap wine and tension. "You honour me, Monsieur."
"Don't disappoint me." Lacroix's piercing stare pinned him to his chair. "I will not tolerate treachery. Be assured that if you betray me you will not survive to return to Spain."
"I understand."
Lacroix stood up and his two companions followed suit. "Until tomorrow."
Aramis sat for a long time after they had gone, his mind racing. Clearly they were right and Lacroix was planning something and tomorrow he would find out what it was. He drained his cup, grimacing at the sour taste, and left the tavern, confident that Porthos would watch his back.
TMTMTM
Athos shifted his position for what felt like the hundredth time, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. Normally he slept on his stomach, something that wasn't possible with damaged ribs. Lying on his back also put pressure on his ribs and worsened the aching in his head. He couldn't roll onto his right side because of his arm which left only one option. Being on this left side felt unnatural and he squirmed restlessly as he tried to quiet his mind enough to allow him to sleep.
The door opened and footsteps crossed the floor. Aramis sat on the bed next to his and shook his head. "You are supposed to be sleeping. Were you worried about me?"
Relief flooded Athos' body. "Of course not."
"Hm, then it must be the pain from your injuries that keeps you awake."
Athos didn't bother responding to that. "What happened?"
"I met with Lacroix. He was understandably suspicious."
"Were you able to persuade him of your sincerity?"
"I believe so. He has invited me to his home for dinner tomorrow night."
Athos pushed himself up, heedless of the increased pain. "You didn't accept?" he asked anxiously.
"Settle down, my friend. This is our best opportunity to find out what he has planned. I can assure you that I will be quite safe."
"You can't know that. I only agreed to you going to the tavern because I knew that Porthos would be there. He can't watch you if you are in Lacroix's house."
"You worry too much. No harm will come to me. Now, you must rest." Aramis stood up and stepped over to help Athos lie down again. "We will talk more in the morning."
"There's nothing to talk about. You're not going."
TMTMTM
It was a few minutes before seven o'clock when Aramis knocked on the door. It was opened by a manservant who stood back to let him enter.
"The master is in his study. Follow me."
The room was at the back of the house. It was paneled in dark wood and the window looked out to the rear garden. Lacroix sat behind an ornate desk. Aramis stepped inside and removed his hat. Lacroix looked up and acknowledged his arrival.
"Please sit." He poured wax at the bottom of a document and slipped off one of his rings which he used to imprint a seal. He waited for the wax to harden before rolling it up and opening a drawer. "I'm surprised you came." He reached into the drawer and pulled out a pistol which he leveled at Aramis.
"What is the meaning of this?" Aramis kept his hands away from his weapons.
"I warned you last night."
"I am no traitor."
"No, you are supremely loyal to your King…Musketeer."
Tbc