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Thank you all again for your wonderful support and comments. They've been a pleasure reading!

Onto the next chapter...

Chapter 8

Rochefort took a deep breath while seated alone in the private room. He exhaled slowly and looked through the open door that led to the main tavern. Guests laughed, joked, drank wine and ale with fervor. One of the tavern wenches rushed across the room with a burning skillet and quickly tossed it into the street. It clattered and bounced against the cobblestone path and the woman laughed and then dusted her hands on her apron as she slammed the door closed. The aroma of burnt lard wafted throughout the room and a few hands and scarves were waved to alleviate the scent, but it was quickly forgotten when more ale was served.

The private room was lit with several candles and two lanterns that hung from the support beams on either side of the large round table that could seat six men comfortably. His bowl of stew steamed, and the plate filled with torn pieces of bread sat to his right. A port of wine stood before him, along with a glass of wine. The burgundy color reflected the light in the room. The dark woods amplified the depth of the shadows.

"You're late," Rochefort said as Boris entered the chamber.

Boris arched a sly eyebrow, tossed his cloak over a nail, and then pulled a chair from beneath the table. He took a seat and then flung a small bundle onto the table. "You've ingratiated yourself quite well in the short amount of time you've been here." He raised his eyebrows and tipped his head in approval. "I respect that."

Rochefort huffed. "Paris is a city filled with fools and thieves… rising above it is not as complicated as one might think." He took a deep breath. "Since Richelieu's death… the king is desperate for companionship," he smiled, "and I am just the man he needs to listen and advise him."

"For what purpose?" Boris said and reached for a chunk of bread. He took a healthy bite and then stretched his long arm across the table and pulled Rochefort's plate of stew toward himself. "For you, for someone else… or for something else?" He dipped the bread and took another bite.

Rochefort took a deep breath. "Captain Treville will be sending his four best musketeers to retrieve goods for the king. Two will travel to Autun to retrieve a sapphire necklace," he watched Boris look up in interest while he chewed. "The other two will travel to Allier for gold lace —"

"The bonus?"

"Is the necklace." Rochefort leaned back and cupped the glass of wine in the curve of his fingers as he took a sip. "Your men… will need to depart and wait for them. Are they resourceful enough to recognize the musketeer's pauldrons, or will they need to be educated before they depart?" he questioned skeptically.

Boris winked at Rochefort and then said around a mouthful of food, "They know who the musketeers are. There is no need to be pretentious."

Rochefort leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table and tapped the surface with his fingernails, "Without them… the king will be at my mercy." He reached for the small bag that Boris had tossed onto the table.

"The antidote?"

"Mustard tea within an hour of ingestion. Burdock root and charcoal should your…" Boris shrugged, "victim ingest too much or," he smiled, "if the hour has passed." He continued to eat and pointed toward the two bottles. "Those," he said, "are to be added to the ones he's already provided you."

Rochefort, annoyed, asked, "Why didn't Sasha bring this to me to begin with?" He raised his eyebrows as he picked up the bottles and looked closely at the contents.

Boris shrugged. "Sasha believes himself better than the rest of us."

"He's an annoying little man." Rochefort cocked an eyebrow and frowned. "Such simple solutions for complex poisons… isn't it?" He watched Boris lean back against his chair, cross his arms over his chest, and then cross his long legs at his ankles. "How effective can the poison possibly be with such an… unimpressive remedy?"

Boris tilted his head to the left and looked at Rochefort in exasperation and annoyance. "You will find that the more complex the poison, the more simplified the antidote — accidents, after all, do happen and I do hate searching for new alchemists." He raised his eyebrows as if challenging Rochefort to ask another question. "My chemists do not want to poison themselves, only to discover they have no countermeasure to their creations. Sasha is the best — he can kill you simply in your sleep, make you suffer in agony for days, cause your body to weaken and betray you, or violently retch and shit blood." Boris leaned forward and looked Rochefort in the eyes. "And he can make it last for days or weeks. He can make a strong man weep… all with a drop of this…" he smiled, "or that.

"And that vial wrapped snugly within velvet," Boris said with a quirk to his eyebrow, "is something quick — should you need it. A gift from Sasha to you." His smile broadened. "I hope, whoever she is, she is worth it." He leaned back and said, "There isn't a remedy for that one so be careful. That," he pointed to the vial, "is the only one that terrifies us all."

Rochefort flashed his eyes toward him and took a deep breath. He smiled confidently for the first time while in Boris' presence. "Remove the Musketeers Athos, Aramis, Porthos, and d'Artagnan. Make sure they do not return to Paris alive. I do not want anything in the way of my plans. Once they are dead… There is one more I want you to kill."

"Just one?"

Rochefort smiled and narrowed his eyes. "Just one." He tapped his fingers again. "The Musketeer Regiment in the weeks to come will report to me… I will combine them with the Red Guards, and they will help me protect Paris, her queen, and the dauphin."

Boris chuckled, pushed himself away from the table, and grabbed his doublet. "And who is going to help you accomplish this?"

Rochefort looked at Boris and said, "Everyone… and they won't even know they're doing it."

Boris raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"Don't bother returning to Paris if you fail," Rochefort said and stood. He looked at Boris in the eyes. "You'll never leave if you do."