Chapter 51

Sorel threw himself at the attacker without letting go of Odette's hand. His charge was instinctive, his épée shot forward, he thrust - and hit nothing, the blade slid ineffectively off his opponent's sword and was thrown back. For a second, Sorel stood without cover and Odette cried out as his enemy mercilessly exploited the opening. A quick step, a skilful attack. Sorel suddenly found himself with his back to the wall, disarmed and cold iron on his neck.

It should have been all over with him. But he was alive, breathing, and still felt Odette's trembling fingers in his. She stood very close to him, pale and angelically beautiful. Her eyes were not filled with fear but clouded with a strange confusion.

Sorel blinked and looked along the blade pointed menacingly at him, in the face of his opponent. His heart skipped a beat at the sight and he would have almost pulled d'Artagnan to him with endless relief, not letting go of her any time soon! But her sword and arm nailed him relentlessly against the wall. She was still breathing the heat of battle and long seconds passed before she recognised her supposed foe. Only then did she relax and lower her weapon, though without letting Grégoire go quite yet.

A secret smile stole onto her lips that only he could see. »Devil, that will teach you to attack your lieutenant!«

»I'll make a mental note,« Sorel promised with a mischievous mien, catching a sceptically raised eyebrow in return. In uniform instead of dress, with a sword in her hand instead of a cello bow, d'Artagnan was herself again - and at some point, hopefully, her smile would not immediately fade as soon as she took a step away from him and put on the lieutenant's mask for the public.

D'Artagnan assured herself that Sorel and la Nièvre were unharmed. Her gaze slid to their hands, their fingers intertwined. Her stomach tightened. So that was how matters stood between Grégoire and Odette...?

Odette refused to let go of Sorel under the scrutinising look and she stared back defiantly - and then she suddenly realised who stood there in the shape of the lieutenant of the guards. She had thought d'Artagnan was on home leave, banished from her entourage for his impertinence at their first meeting. She had thought him her enemy, but Charlotte had in truth been by her side all along. To protect her, no, to surveil her!

Odette lost all well practised composure as she flared up with sheer rage and bewilderment, »Explain yourself this instant!«

»Later.« D'Artagnan brushed aside the aggrieved anger in which Odette cloaked herself and in the same movement pushed her own feelings far away. With a curt gesture, she directed Sorel to pick up his sword. »You're going to need it. Perhaps sooner than we can hope. Nièvre's men have intrude the palace, along with Grinchamps and... Tréville.« D'Artagnan hesitated at the last name, as if she refused to believe the truth. She caught herself and turned directly to Odette. »You are in the greatest danger! We will get you to safety before-«

»I don't believe you!« Odette shook her head and backed away from the false dame of honour. »You have lied to me all this time. Admit it, you led these men here! Now you want to hand me over to them and betray my uncle because your scheming game is seen through!«

»Mademoiselle, we can talk about everything later-« d'Artagnan started, urging her to leave, but Odette interrupted her, looking around demonstratively.

»Where is Elise? She was with you last, she would never have left my side if you had not urged her to do so! You have deceived me, you are to blame!«

»...yes.« D'Artagnan nodded slowly and gestured to Sorel not to interfere. She took a cautious step forward, as if she feared Odette might flee to her chamber at any moment and lock herself in. »Yes, I am to blame. I should never have allowed you to take this outing to Paris, and by doing so I disobeyed my orders. It is my responsibility. I have failed as your dame of honour and as your guard. Forgive me, I beg you...«

And then d'Artagnan did something that not even the cardinal had been able to force her to do with all his power and will; she bent her knee before Odette and bowed her head in devotion.

»What are you doing?« Odette was taken by surprise by the gesture. She had not expected this humility from the villainous 'Lieutenant d'Artagnan', especially as any court curtsey from a 'Madame de Chanlecy' had always been done reluctantly; Charlotte de Batz-Castelmore submitted to no one and she bowed only to those who deserved respect and honour. Now she was serious about it, when she said, »I have sworn to protect you with my life. I will always keep this oath! Allow me, therefore, to place myself between you and all dangers, and to escort you to safety. After that, I will surrender to whatever punishment pleases you. For the lies, for my failures.«

Odette was silent, her thoughts a wild confusion of questions and accusations. She looked at Grégoire for help, who showed no trace of dismay or surprise that his lieutenant was in fact a woman. He knew it all along.

Odette took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down, remembering her own duties as the daughter of a duke and niece of the Prime Minister of France; it was up to her to show mercy. Her birthright to pass judgement, to forgive and forget. Madame de Chanlecy may has deluded her. But it had never been done out of malice.

»To find true chivalry in a woman one day, I could never have imagined it. And yet I see it here before me, in a lieutenant who has always watched over me and protected me. Who, despite all the reproaches, even now will not leave my side. You are my loyal vassal. Well, you are forgiven!« Odette graciously held out a hand to d'Artagnan and allowed her to stand. She scrutinised the other woman again and this time her shake of the head was accompanied by a soft rebuke instead of loud anger. »You wear the uniform with a matter-of-factness, as if it were no scandal at all to pretend to be a man.«

»Your uncle assigned it to me personally. A long story.«

»We will speak of it when this is over.«

»As you wish.«

Odette looked pleased and d'Artagnan ignored Sorel's conspicuously blank expression as he watched the women. Nevertheless, she could easily imagine his inner grin and she gave him a meaningful look, never to say a word about this. Vassal, bah! Odette's pretty, little head was crammed with stories about knights and troubadours of old and now d'Artagnan played a part in it, too.

Sorel seemed to read her thoughts and probably already had a really clever remark on the tip of his tongue and a telltale twitch at the corner of his mouth. His words were swallowed by a sudden loud roar from the hallway and he gave a warning shout. »They're here!«

»Mordieux, we've wasted too much time! Stay with Odette!«

»How many of them are there?«

»Can't tell!« cried d'Artagnan over the threatening noise. She considered feverishly, but there was no escape. »We're trapped in here. Hold the ground!«

Odette turned white as a sheet and moved closer to Sorel, who offered her shield and protection. Their situation was desperate; between the mercenaries and them was only the antechamber door, which had not been made for sieges. One powerful kick and the enemy would have broken through; no more time to erect a barricade of furniture; no use bracing themselves against the door and letting splinters of wood and bullets tear them apart. With no escape route, the seconds gained thanks to a hero's death wouldn't matter either.

They could only wait and hope, listen to the noise of battle and give the enemies a good fight. D'Artagnan looked over her shoulder at Sorel. He returned her gaze with determination. No matter what superior force they faced, they would defy it together until the end.

Outside, their comrades were still resisting. They must have found the mercenaries and were now fighting them. Had Biscarat reached Jussac in time? It was impossible to hear and interpret individual noises. People were running around, crying out or whimpering, blades clashed and once d'Artagnan thought she recognised Jussac's commanding voice in the terrible choir.

The door handle moved. Sorel tensed every muscle and heard Odette breathing more rapidly. She did not reach for his hand again, controlling her fear so as not to hinder him in combat. He kept his eyes on the door, waiting for d'Artagnan's signal. It never came.

The latch gave way, the doorway was clear and a red-haired whirlwind passed through, paused briefly and then rushed past Sorel straight towards Odette to embrace her. »You're all right, oh, I was so worried! Blimey!«

Odette stood stiffly at first, astonished, but then, against all etiquette, she returned the confidential gesture and held her chambermaid, her dear friend, close to her. »Elise! I thought you forlorn!«

»I'm here, it's all right. All is well now.« Elise reluctantly detached herself from Odette. She was already too out of her role and even if she didn't mind it in front of Grégoire, there was still another guardsman in the room. She had only seen him out of the corner of her eye because he had had to hastily evade her.

Now he brought himself back to mind with grim words. »Nothing is well yet.«

»D'Artagnan, you're here! And Madeleine?«

»We've escaped from the henchmen, she's fine. Are you unharmed?«

»I am, but old Moraut... He suddenly collapsed, then everything happened so quickly! I ran, there were screams everywhere, people, and the guardsmen came and the mercenaries rushed off, right into their arms and...« Elise shuddered, haunted by the horrible memories and all she could say quietly was, »They were all killed. All of them, all the mercenaries.«

Odette patted her maid's arms reassuringly, a gesture full of amicable warmth of heart. Elise smiled faintly. »Grinchamps and Tréville are still around somewhere. I couldn't see... I don't know exactly... » She broke off, then shook her head in sudden anger at herself. »I can't tell anything more useful! I should have been paying attention, I was there and still we know nothing!«

»Elise!« Sorel grabbed her by the shoulder. »It was perfectly right to flee to safety. Do you hear? You've been through more than enough!«

»But it's not over! They may still be on their way here!«

»Two of them against the Ensign and the Lieutenant of the Red Guard?« Sorel fluffed up his red plumage. »They wouldn't dare.«

»And if there aren't two of them at all? What if they weren't cowardly abandoned by all the mercenaries?«

»Then they'd still be pretty stupid to attack us instead of fleeing the palace.« Sorel looked to d'Artagnan for approval. His confidence was dampened when he saw her 'Please don't...'-face.

»Stupid, indeed.« D'Artagnan clenched her fists in helpless rage. Mordieux, she truly suspected Tréville to do something dumb, because she no longer recognised him. Because she had been wrong about him once too often and now reckoned on any foolhardiness. »Or desperate enough not to think of giving up and use the distraction to their own advantage.«

She stepped to the door and peered out into the hallway. The sound of battle was still to hear from the distance, breaking in a thousand echoes on the walls, while outside the windows the winter night swallowed all life and shrouded it in lonely silence. She pulled her head back to give final instructions. »Jussac will have secured the cardinal's wing with the majority of our men. We could make our way there, but I think it wiser to keep as far away from any fighting as possible. Sorel!«

»Yes, mon lieutenant?«

»The safest place for Mademoiselle de la Nièvre is outside the palais now. Elise's house, take them both there!«

»Understood, but-«

»That's an order, Ensign!«

Sorel should have obeyed. Elise's house was the best choice. This chamber was no longer defensible and they would be able to reach one of the many exits to the streets more quickly than Richelieu's private wing at the other end of the palace. The course of action was correct in every respect, but there was one small thing that d'Artagnan had not considered and as her ensign he had to bring it to her attention.

»But it's your duty,« he said.

»Pardon?«

»You swore it, moments ago, on your knees. To protect Odette.«

»I will, by holding the position and securing your retreat. Tréville and Grinchamps will look for Odette first here, if they have followed Elise. I can hold them off!«

»All by yourself?« Sorel returned her gaze unyielding. »I cannot allow that, mon lieutenant.«

»Ah, and why can you not, mon enseigne?«

»Because you belong at Odette's side now, because you are her guard and not I! My duty is to stay here.«

»No! No, I won't order you to do that! Never!«

»Why? You have to, it's the right thing to do.«

Never before had he seen d'Artagnan looking so desperate, so helpless. There was no longer a mask, only Charlotte, and Grégoire knew what he was asking of her. Certain death awaited him if they exchanged places. What she feared most had come to pass. She had to give him an order that could cost him his life. »I can't...«

»But you can, and besides, it's my turn to be the hero. You always rush ahead, how should I ever be able to earn my next promotion?«

»Scoundrel...« whispered d'Artagnan with a sad smile.

»Through and through.« Grégoire knew he had convinced her and proudly threw himself into the breach. »It is Knight de Sorel's turn to fight for his fair maiden!«

D'Artagnan sighed in defeat and looked past Sorel's shoulder at Odette and Elise, who had been silently listening to the exchange of words. The duke's daughter did not look as charmed after Sorel's brave words as one might have guessed. D'Artagnan nodded curtly. »Fine, I trust you. You will return to your beloved after this battle.«

»At your command!«

»In Odette's chamber is a secret connecting door to my own rooms. We will flee there as soon as we hear your signal.« She did not want to say aloud in front of Elise and Odette that his signal would be a final warning call in case Tréville and Grinchamps did indeed invade the antechamber and Sorel had to fight for his life. »We'll slip away while you create a distraction.«

»Good, that will work.«

»It will.« She laughed unhappily. »It certainly will, and tomorrow, we celebrate your promotion.«

»With pomp and circumstance!«

»I'll see to it personally, everyone will be there!«

»And musicians, Odette shall play for me!«

»Do you hear, Mademoiselle? The chevalier has wishes!«

Odette smiled pale. Despite all the romantic glorification, all the wild ideas that usually liked to haunt her head, even she had realised that they were talking about a funeral. »I gladly grant it to him for his bravery and courage.«

»It is an honour, Mademoiselle.« Sorel bowed and as he looked up again, d'Artagnan walked past him and murmured, »I will close my eyes and ears, so take this last opportunity to steal you a kiss from your princess before it's too late.«

She marched into the chamber quite like a lieutenant and did not look back. She expected Elise to follow her, to give Odette and Grégoire those last moments of sweet togetherness. She leaned beside the door and really closed her eyes and ears. She felt strangely weak and hollow, crestfallen, and only the wall in her back was still holding her up. She listened to her own feelings to better repress them. She was practised at this, it came easily to her.

She winced as she tasted a single tear on her lips and ran a hand over her eyes. This could not be, she could not let this happen! The Lieutenant of the Guard did not cry, the Lieutenant of the Musketeers had never cried! She would not allow it!

»Charlotte...«

She flinched, and at the same moment felt ashamed that Grégoire saw her like this. He said nothing, he did not laugh at her or mock her for her weakness, which did not befit a man, a soldier. Instead, he raised a hand to her cheek and wiped away her tears.

His touch was gentle, loving, and when he leaned forward, when his lips met hers, Charlotte no longer resisted her feelings for him and the kiss he stole from her. She returned it, shyly at first, then deeply as Grégoire pulled her closer.

They only broke away from each other when an audible clearing of the throat sounded. Elise tapped one foot on the floor. »And I thought we were in a hurry.«

»Indeed.« D'Artagnan ducked away from under Sorel's arms and was back to lieutenant faster than he could look dumbfounded and hold her tight.

Had he only dreamed up that kiss? No, Charlotte's flushed cheeks betrayed her, but her hasty escape also reminded him that she had insisted to Odette that she would never get involved with a guardsman. Was her doubt already gaining the upper hand, was she regretting a mistake? Sorel adjusted his hat and marched into the antechamber. He wanted to look determined and confident; he could worry about the future later. If there still was one. »I'm at my post, saving the day.«

D'Artagnan did not stop him, though everything inside her cried out not to let him go. She trusted him, he would not die, not today. Not because of her decision. Hell, he had survived a kiss with her where anyone else would have had a dagger stuck between their ribs! What could possibly harm Grégoire now?

She looked for Odette. The duke's daughter stood by Elise, avoiding d'Artagnan's gaze. She had lost the battle and probably the war, too. If Odette was honest with herself, she regretted her defeat, but she did not feel real sorrow. Only her pride was hurt that someone else should possess Grégoire's heart. One whom she would never have thought of, because Charlotte was different from other women in every way. Perhaps that was precisely the reason.

»What is troubling you?« d'Artagnan asked her, sounding very concerned, honestly interested in Odette's thoughts.

»It is nothing of importance.«

»Is it? As you say. Are you ready for another outing to Paris?«

»Certainly, sometime I shall visit the town without us having to run away from all sorts of scum.«

»You seriously want to deprive yourself of that fun?«

Odette had become accustomed to her dame d'honneur's biting humour over time, and it reassured her in a strange way that Lieutenant d'Artagnan spoke sarcastically in the same way. She was still the same person, just in a different role. A far more appropriate one for her.

D'Artagnan unlocked the connecting door. All was still peaceful, but she preferred to be unnecessarily prepared. Elise talked quietly to Odette, perhaps a few pep talks about trivia to dispel the fear. Outside, Sorel was on guard.

Suddenly, a tumult! A muffled warning cry, a crashing door, weapons colliding loudly.

Odette and Elise ran through the connecting door at the signal, d'Artagnan following right behind them. They had gained valuable time, now all they had to do was escape into the hallway and out of the palace.

The second they ran out of the chamber, the second they found themselves alone and without enemies in the corridor and took to their heels, a scream rang out from the antechamber. Then a pistol shot thundered, deafening d'Artagnan's ears - and the ensuing silence stunned her heart...