With the intention of speaking to the former soldiers myself, I had no choice but to go with Athos and Porthos to the tavern where Gaston had committed three murders. I had spoken to both of them as little as possible, limiting my words to answering their questions of commenting blithely on the weather. At the very least my brother knew if I had relegated myself to such a dull subject, it was my way of saying that I did not desire to talk at all. Thankfully, he respected my hint and made Porthos do the same.
I rode behind them, keeping to myself though they often glanced back so I was forever looking away. They simply could not leave me alone. Did they not trust me? What? Did they think I would suddenly swoon and fall from my horse? Pulses of indignant ire twisted in the pit of my stomach, almost wishing that I had been born a man so at least I could rightly expect to be left to handle my own matters. If I were a man, then I would not have this torment of chaos raging in my chest every time I looked at Porthos. My lips burned with the memory of his touch, and I almost moaned softly as I relived the moment. Until it had ended abruptly, that is.
He could not bear to look at me. Now, he could not bear to touch me. Yet he had. For a moment, he had taken me to a place of bliss despite claiming that there could never be anything between us. His contradictions between his words and actions confounded me endlessly, and still I was yet to reach an answer even with all my puzzling. I was beginning to resign myself to the fact that I would never know and had to be content with that.
When we arrived, I dismounted from my horse and tethered her to a hitching post, stroking at her neck for a moment before retrieving an apple from the saddlebag. I often kept a few spare when riding, and held it upon my flat palm so that she could partake, crunching through the sweet fruit until it was entirely gone. "Are you coming?" Glancing towards them, I saw that they were waiting for me. Patting the mare one last time I quickly pulled a satchel from the saddle and hefted it over my shoulder, feeling its weight nestle comfortably as I then stepped away and pulled off my gloves, keeping my eyes cast low without a word.
Athos and Porthos both hesitated, as if wanting to say something, but ultimately they did not. They turned aside, and the impasse remained in place. They entered first and I followed, where immediately a hush overcame the tavern as its occupants looked upon us and saw first the musketeer uniform. "I came back, as I promised." Athos spoke first as I quietly stepped inside, glancing around to ascertain my surroundings. "We are looking for the thief who stole from the duke." For a moment there was quiet, and then one man stepped forwards with justified outrage, but sounding more shocked than angered at present.
"You've come to make an arrest?" The veteran stared at my brother and Porthos as I continued to remain silent, moving slowly to be as yet unnoticed. The man bore a distinctive wound to his right eye. Almost every man bore a wound or scar from battle. Some had retired due to age, but it was mostly the injuries which forced them from service, making them veterans. Several of them seemed rather young. Even my brother's age. Perhaps younger. "The King leaves us with no military pension. His brother murders our friends, and now this."
"You can't demand justice if you won't deliver it yourselves." Porthos reasoned, speaking true but it was not enough for these wounded souls.
"The men we bury tomorrow, they fought for the king with us, on the worst day of the war, at Burgundy." The same man spoke again, and I listened earnestly as I recalled the aftermath of that battle. So many deaths. Good men fallen to sword, bullet and cannon fire. Behind them they had left countless widows, and just as many orphans. "But later that same day, we learned his majesty had been buying thoroughbreds for his stables."
"The king is grateful for the infantry's sacrifice at Burgundy." Speaking to ease the tension, I glanced to my brother. Sometimes, I had to wonder if our loyalty and duty were overly zealous. These men were right. Louis had not a care in the world even with the war raging. He did not go hungry. His life was not at risk, yet still these men fought for him out of loyalty, and he did nothing to show his gratitude. I wonder if he had ever even considered that these men had sacrificed everything for the war only to return to nothing. Behind us the door opened, and I looked to see a woman enter.
"The thief betrayed us and our friends, Leopold. Remember that." Another man spoke now, the owner of the tavern, and his word seemed to be more than adequate to silence any grievances he held. I would have to direct my line of question to him, seeing as he commanded such respect. "He's dead to me, captain." Leopold looked at the owner sharply.
"You're giving in to them?"
"Holding them to their word." With another look to silence him, the man turned back to my brother. "I'll find the culprit, but in return, the king will put his brother on trial." The mere suggestion itself was ludicrous, but the only reason I did not laugh was because I could see the man was deadly serious. Louis would never conceive to put Gaston on trial, if only to save his own pride to have his brother so publicly shamed.
"We shall convey your wishes to the king," Athos promised then bowed his head respectfully. He made to leave, and I stepped aside, allowing him to brush past me. "Come, Madeleine."
"My business is not yet concluded. You may both go. I will stay a while." The veterans all looked rather surprised, some even hurriedly straightening their jackets and smartening their hair upon realising that there was a lady among them.
"Then we will wait until…" once again it seemed my brother could not trust me to be alone and take care of myself.
"There is no need for you to stay, I will perfectly safe here," I turned to the men and smiled sweetly. "Will I not? Such fine gentlemen and experienced soldiers will surely keep anything from happening to me." Some chuckled and several nodded their heads, agreeing that no harm would come to me so long as they were there, they meant no ill will and would not consider hurting a woman. "You see?" Turning my head without fully looking at Athos, I dismissed him again, more firmly this time. "Just leave. My business will take a great deal of time and you have your own matters to attend to." Sensing a perturbed glare, Athos and Porthos left, the door slamming behind them. I did not know what expression Porthos had warn, but I sensed his presence linger the longest, before eventually Athos firmly pulled him away.
"Friends of yours?"
"My brother," I explained with a heavy sigh. "Forgive me, I have yet to introduce myself. I am Comtesse Madeleine de la Fère, Lady Royal of Her Majesty Queen Anne's household. I have come here on behalf of the king and queen to make a report of the incident which happened yesternight, as well as record any complaints that wished to be made." The owner blinked at me, startled at first before he hastily bowed.
"Christophe, my lady. I own this tavern here, and this is my wife Josephine." The woman who had entered before came to his side and I greeted her, noticing that she looked a little wan, perhaps even slightly faint.
"Madame? Are you well?" I questioned her, stepping closer to take her hand to see if her skin was feverish.
"Oh…yes! Yes I am quite well, thank you my lady, you're very kind." Wondering if she had perhaps been crying, I reasoned that perhaps she was grieving the loss of the three soldiers as everyone else did. Taking an embroidered handkerchief from within my pocket, I pressed it into her hand which made her start in surprise.
"Be of good health, madame." I turned to Cristophe who seemed to lower his defences a little as I requested for somewhere to sit. A table was promptly cleared and the seat dusted down, the men being gentlemanly and cordial in their manners as I took off the satchel I carried and opened it, drawing out its contents of paper, an inkwell and quill. I began by noting the date, titling the report before adding the details of the time and place of the incident.
"Now, if you would be so kind, please tell me in your own words what happened concerning the Duke of Orleans." At first everyone clamoured to speak, voices bursting all around me simultaneously until Christophe shouted them down into silence.
"Mind yourselves lads, one at a time. This is a gentlewoman here, we can't be acting like mannerless boors in her presence." Recovering from the initial shock, I chuckled softly.
"No need for formalities. Why not all have a drink? Here, we shall have a round on me, a token of my esteem." Placing several coins upon the table, Cristophe at first attempted to refuse but I insisted, and so he served everyone a drink and gave me a cup of his best wine for me to sip as I worked. It was a process of several long hours, collecting the reports of the main eyewitnesses, including that of Josephine, but she was too distressed to say much and did not provide much of an insight other than to inform me that she brought a drink of wine to the duke, thinking to settle his nerves from his injury.
Once all the reports were gathered, I then set to my task of listening to their complaints. I made a comprehensive list of their names, their regiment and ranks, the battles they had fought in and when they had been discharged. I also noted their injuries, each person having their own in-depth report on how the battles had ailed them and whether or not they were able to work again. Many were not. All of this was vital information to me, and already I was thinking of ways and means to help them. Not just them, but as many war veterans as possible. We should begin to think of the end, for once the armies were disbanded, those who survived would be making their way home.
They would be injured, most likely suffering haunting nightmares of all they had witnessed, possibly unable to work another day in their life or be unfit for hire. I needed to establish a means to tend to these poor souls and secure their futures. If nothing else, they deserved to live the rest of their lives in peace and comfort. I did not know how I was going to do this, or how I would persuade the royal treasury to fund any such venture, but I had to try. "Why are you asking us all these questions?" Christophe wondered to me as he topped my drink for the last time. "What are you hoping to do?"
"The king gave me permission to act as I saw fit concerning the matter at hand, so I saw it as an opportunity to let your voices be heard. I promise you, his majesty is listening, and he is ready to help. Whatever you need, we shall find a way to give you what you have earned." Lifting my papers now that the ink was dry, I tapped them against the table so that they would neaten before sliding them into my satchel. "Your loyalty deserves recognition, so I shall be your advocate, if you will permit me."
"You're too kind, Lady Madeleine. Comtesse, I mean…" Leopold flustered sweetly, so I chuckled and kissed at his cheek pertly which only flustered him all the more.
"Just Madeleine, if you please. The titles mean very little in truth. Now, I shall finish my drink and be on my way. Gentlemen, raise your glasses if you have them!" Taking my cup of wine I lifted it into the air to toast, the others all raucously doing the same with a cheer. "To your health, gentlemen! The finest this city has ever seen!" They all saluted, their spirits rallying as we all tipped back our heads and drained our glasses. The wine rushed to my head for a moment, settling a giddy sensation through me as I laughed and wiped my mouth with a sleeve, ignoring that it now bore a wine stain upon it, for it hardly mattered.
They cheered as I left, wishing me goodnight and I promised that I would also pay my respects at the funeral. It was dusk by the time I stepped outside, Cristophe insisting on walking me to my horse and accompanying me as far as he would be allowed. It struck me as odd that I did not mind Cristophe worrying for my safety, when any such notion of my brother of the others caring in the same way enflamed my indignity. Perhaps it was because I knew that he was only being kind, and that in truth it was sensible to have someone go with me, as the wine had dulled my senses.
I was still quite alert, but if anyone thought to take advantage and steal from me would have a rather easy job of it. Cristophe did not speak much, only thanked me for my attention and sincere interest in their plight. "You will make sure the king hears of this, won't you? And that his brother will be brought to justice?"
"Dear sir, I give you my word that I shall champion your cause and demand justice on behalf of your friends, but my influence will only go so far. All the same, I shall try my best, for I feel as you do. The duke was outrageously unjustified in his actions, and even if I must teach him a lesson in manners myself, then I shall gladly do so." Lulled by the gentle swaying of my horse as Christophe led her by the bridle, I exhaled softly. "Everything is a battle, even when the war exists elsewhere."
"I have come to realise that myself, my lady." Appreciating that Cristophe understood, we spent the rest of the walk in silence until I was near the palace gates and he was not allowed to go any further. "Thank you again, my lady. Good night."
"Return safely, Cristophe. Give my best to your lovely wife." Lifting my hand in farewell I then took up the reins myself and had my mare go onward, taking her back to the stables. There was much for me to think about, and a great many more things for me to do, but I was so woozy from the wine that I wanted nothing more than to sink into a comfortable chair beside a fire and listen to it crackle whilst warming my feet. Yes, that sounded like the perfect thing to do. My mind made up, I went to seek out Anne, thinking that she should join me for a quiet evening, and perhaps share another glass of wine. Or two.