Thank you, as always, for reading and leaving comments. Hope you like the next instalment. Apologies for any errors which may have crept through.

So, with Bircann and Marie de Medici under arrest, what happens next? Richelieu has summoned the King's Council.

35 DAYS EARLIER

RICHELIEU

The double doors to the council chamber open before me and I pass through them briskly. I am three minutes late, a deliberate ploy as I wonder if anyone will miss the time that I specified for this impromptu meeting at eleven of the clock. I could have called it for an hour earlier of course, but even I am prepared to accept that it would have been a little unreasonable. The council members have had ninety minutes' notice, or at least for those who are resident within Paris, of course. No doubt one or two, not anticipating that I was going to summon them, would have retired to their country abodes. No matter. I concede that it is not their fault. They did not know of the threat to our King and country for I saw fit to keep them in the dark until the matter was under control. I have my reasons for such a decision, one that was taken with the full support of the King and Captain Tréville.

It was a case of the least number of those in the know, the better for all, yet I cannot forget the incident in my office last evening, when a noise was heard by Tréville, his lieutenant and me. I feel even more justified in my reticence in alerting the council before today's actions, even though I know they will be angry. Already, I have two of my more trusted spies investigating, trying to uncover the identity of the person who dared to eavesdrop upon the meeting in my office.

"Good morning, gentlemen," I greet them, glancing swiftly at those gathered around the table. Surprisingly, they are all in attendance. There is a collective, sharp intake of breath as I take the seat at the head of the table, the one usually reserved for Louis.

"Unfortunately, His Majesty will not be joining us this morning; he is far too distressed for reasons that will become apparent very shortly," I explain, and their expressions become apprehensive.

"I trust His Majesty is in good health," one of them, de Ravenel, says. The man is obsequious at the best of times, and I am not at all surprised that he is the first to ask after Louis.

I flatter him with a smile. "Thank you for your concern; I will inform His Majesty that you wish him well." It satisfies the elderly sycophant and he beams at those sitting round the table. "He is quite well, but he is greatly troubled by the discovery of a treacherous plot against him."

The room fills with horrified gasps and a barrage of questions, silenced by a knock on the door. Heads turn as one to see Tréville enter and I beckon him to the empty seat to my right, the seat usually taken by me.

"I have asked Captain Tréville to join us as he and his Musketeers have been active in putting down an uprising before it had time to come into being. We have both been busy this morning and I have thought it fit to inform you of what has transpired at the earliest opportunity."

I wait until he is seated and has nodded his acknowledgement to those at the table, all men whom he knows, and then I relate what we have been doing and why. At the pronouncement of Marie de Medici's involvement, there is more shock and I reassure them that all threats have been removed.

"But where is she? Is she in the Chatelet? What will happen to her now?" Jolivet wants to know.

"She has already been taken from Paris under heavy guard to a place of safekeeping known only to me until such time as His Majesty has recovered enough to discuss rationally the punishment which his mother should face. We must take into consideration that this is not the first time she has sought to seize his throne."

"And what of Bircann? Where is he being held?" These questions come from Soubert, a taciturn man in his late-forties; similar in age to the man after whom he inquires.

"When my men and I took him into custody this morning, we delivered him immediately to the Chatelet," Tréville answers.

"Is he closely guarded?" Soubert continues. "We do not want to have him escape."

I seek to reassure him. "That is highly unlikely. He is being held in a large cell on one of the upper floors as befits his status and the guards there are in my employment."

Soubert is persistent. "But is he to be heavily questioned?"

We all know that the tone with which he stresses the words 'heavily questioned' make them a euphemism for torture, but I am not willing to discuss the tactics I use to elicit the information I want.

"He will be questioned in a day or two. For now, I want him to be in isolation, to have time to reflect upon what he has done and then he will be questioned."

"But there must be others!" Philippe Villart speaks up. The man has an infuriating twitch at the corner of his left eye under normal circumstances. Now, as tense as he is at my news, it has increased ten-fold so that it appears that the man is repeatedly winking at me. It is disconcerting, but I find it hard to avert my gaze. "He will not have been working alone. He must have had help. How do you propose finding all those who are involved, Cardinal?"

"The Captain and I are in no doubt that there are more but, from the intelligence that I have received, we are sure that Bircann is the leader. It is only a matter of time before we know the identity of all the traitors and take the appropriate action against them, but the King's safety is paramount and to that end, his security has already been substantially increased until we are sure that the threat has been annihilated."

There are more questions and I answer them as far as I am prepared to. I let Tréville give some explanations as well. They must see that he and I are working together to tackle this situation and that his Musketeers and my Red Guard will do likewise, despite their sometimes-public behaviour to the contrary.

I stand to signal that the meeting is at an end and, one by one, they also rise. "Thank you for coming at such short notice, gentlemen. I will keep you apprised of events."

They file out in ones and twos, some talking quietly, others walking in a subdued silence. I wait until they have all gone and the doors are closed behind them before I turn to the one person who remains.

Tréville.

We both resume our seats and I reach for the untouched pitcher of wine on the table. He passes me two goblets, watching me carefully.

"Do you trust them?" he asks eventually, when I have poured us both a drink.

I sigh. "I should, but I don't."

"You're thinking of last night's intruder who heard our plan and who alerted Bircann? We have no reason to believe that it was one of the council."

"And no reason why we should think that it is not," I remind him and sip at the claret. It is deliciously heavy, tasting of dark berries with a hint of cinnamon, its aroma distinctive. It's far too good to be wasted on the council.

"What do you propose?"

I think for a moment. "I have intelligencers working, but we do not necessarily have the time to wait for their reports so if our traitor is on the council, then we need to draw him out, give him the opportunity to make an error."

Tréville takes a mouthful of the wine, savours it and eyes the content of the goblet appreciatively. "And how are you going to do that?"

"I am going to write individual letters to the council members, inviting them to come to me at a specified time. I will spin them some tale of trusting them implicitly and appeal to them to assist me in identifying the traitor in their midst …"

Tréville interrupts me. "Presuming that there is a traitor."

"Presuming that there is one," I agree.

"And if there isn't? You will have succeeded in turning them on each other, destroying trust. Doesn't that make for a broken council, unable to function properly in advising the King?"

"You are assuming that they are the best of friends," I correct him. "They are only interested in themselves, in furthering their own positions at court and being closer to the King than their neighbour. Some will genuinely know nothing, but others will gossip, exaggerate and perhaps even fabricate information. It will, at least, give us a starting point and may provide an interesting insight into the people who are part of the King's council."

The Captain's brow furrows. "Some of them have been on it for as long as I can remember."

"The King inherited some of them for they served his father. Perhaps their time is coming to an end. We shall see. I do question the efficacy of some of them but for now, I will write these letters. I would have some of your Musketeers deliver them this afternoon."

Tréville acknowledges me with his raised goblet. "It can be arranged."