Chapter Three
Atall, young, beardless man, dressed in the clothing of a country peasant, approached the door to the country church and knocked. It was late, he was tired and hungry and on foot. When the door opened, he said, “Can you help a poor man with lodgings for the night? And maybe a little food?”
“Of course,” the monk at the door said. “Please come in. All are welcome in God’s house. I don’t recognize you. Are you from the village?”
“No. I’m traveling to Paris to stay with my sister and her husband. I was riding with only my meager belongings until I was beset by robbers. They took my horse and all I had. I barely got away. I was fortunate they didn’t take my clothing, as well. But, with a little help, I’ll be able to get to Paris, where I can work for my sister’s husband.”
“You poor man. Please come eat with us. What is your name?” the monk asked “I am Brother Jacques.”
“My name is Luc. Luc Boyea.” He had decided that it was easier to use his own name than have to remember a different one. No one there would have heard of him; he was only a lowly servant, after all. “I’m traveling from Ablis. I don’t even know exactly where I am, now.” He followed Brother Jacques through the church and into the dining hall of the chapter house. It was a medium-sized room with several rows of long tables and benches. On the far side was a door to another room.
He inhaled the aromas coming from the kitchen appreciatively. They smelled delicious. He hadn’t had anything to eat since he had left Paris the day before, and was very hungry.
“We have rooms for travelers in need. You may stay one night or two before you go on your way. Sit here,” he was told. “Someone will bring you some dinner in a moment.”
The monk walked away toward the door which must have been to the kitchen. Monsieur Boyea could hear the noise of pots and utensils from that direction. He looked around the room; some of the tables and benches were occupied. This was obviously not a silent order; there was much talking and some laughter. They seemed a happy lot, and welcoming. That was good. Monsieur Boyea was on a mission.
Another monk set a plate on the table. “I hope you will enjoy your meal. I am Brother Maurice. It is simple food, but we are simple folks here. We do serve good wine, though.” He filled a glass from a pitcher of wine and handed it to Monsieur Boyea.
After Boyea finished his meal of, he assumed, homegrown vegetables, fresh bread and cheese, both probably made there in the monastery, Brother Jacques returned to guide him to a small room with a narrow bed, a small table and a chair. “I think this should serve you for the brief time you will be with us,” he said.
“Thank you. I am very grateful for your generosity.”
“You are quite welcome,” Brother Jacques said, and walked away.
Monsieur Boyea took off his boots and lay down on the bed, meaning to stay awake, but instead fell asleep.
∞∞∞
D’Artagnan arrived in Paris just after dark the next day. After sending a message to Cardinal Tremblay that he had returned, he planned to retire for a meal and few hours’ sleep at Charlotte’s townhouse.
Charlotte Blackson was at home when he arrived.
“Charles, where have you been? I was worried sick that you had come to harm.” She rushed at him and embraced him.
“I was sent somewhere by the cardinal. I regret that I had no time to send you a message first,” he told her.
“Naughty boy. I will forgive you, but you must earn my forgiveness first. Come with me.” She headed for the stairs, beckoning him to follow. “This way, Charles.”
“My dear Charlotte, nothing would make me happier than attempting to earn your forgiveness, but duty is not finished with me. I have to leave again, and have time, most likely, for only a few hours of sleep. This time I may not be back for a very long time,” he told her.
“What? But why? Tell me what you must do.”
“I’m so sorry, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy and may tell no one.”
“No one? Then you must make it up to me now. Then I will let you sleep.”
Resigned and excited, he followed her up the stairs.
He was awakened by a messenger with a note from the cardinal at seven o’clock the next morning
“Please attend me at eight o’clock this morning, as before. Only one of your friends was found. He will be in attendance.”
He dressed and packed his saddlebag, then ate a quick meal and left. Charlotte was still asleep, and he didn’t want to wake her, so he left a note for her.
My dear Charlotte, I have been summoned by the cardinal to go on an important journey. I believe that in time you will understand the circumstances that have caused my absence from you. Pray forgive me for not revealing all to you, as I have been forbidden to speak of this. I will miss you every day that I am gone, and hope to rejoin you without excessive delay. All regards, Charles.
As it was near to eight o’clock, D’Artagnan left immediately for the meeting, taking his horse as he was sure to be leaving for Clairefontaine immediately. It was a lovely morning. The trees had begun to produce leaves and flowers were popping up with buds almost ready to burst. He arrived at his destination a few minutes early, and knocked at the servant’s entrance.
“Good evening, Audrey,” he said to the kitchen maid who opened the door. “His Eminence has summoned me, but I am a little early. Might I enter anyway?”
“But of course, monsieur. Would you like a bite to eat? Breakfast is just over and there is some left.” She smiled at him as she held open the door.
Since he hadn’t eaten before he left, and thought it might be awhile before he could eat again, he said, “That would be welcome, Audrey. Thank you.” He entered into the hallway that led to the kitchen, into which they went. Audrey had him sit at the large kitchen table and brought him a plate of bread and cheese, with a small glass of small beer.
Just as D’Artagnan swallowed the last bite of cheese, the butler arrived to take him to the cardinal. He quickly finished the drink, and with a nod of thanks to the kitchen maid, he left.
“Ah, D’Artagnan, how was your journey?” the cardinal said as D’Artagnan knelt to kiss his ring. “But more importantly, how fares the cardinal?” Cardinal Tremblay asked, indicating a chair at the table. “I’m afraid that the only Musketeer I could find on such short notice was Athos. He should be here shortly.” Tremblay poured two cups of tea as D’Artagnan sat.
“Your Eminence, the journey was tiring, but no matter. I found Cardinal Richelieu alive, but very weak and unable to travel yet. He insists he will be well enough to travel before long, and reiterates the necessity of doing so. I have set the plan in motion.”
“Good, good. Let us pray that when you return there he will be stronger and able to travel.”
There was a rap at the door, which opened to admit Athos.
“D’Artagnan! How do you fare? It has been awhile since we have met,” the young musketeer cried. He was shorter than D’Artagnan by some two inches, and slim, with dark hair and beard. He wore a costume similar to D’Artagnan’s. After the two embraced, D’Artagnan indicated Cardinal Tremblay.
“Athos, have you met His Eminence, Cardinal Tremblay?”
Athos turned and knelt to the cardinal, kissing his ring. “Eminence, please accept my sincere apology for greeting my friend first.”
“I understand, but please seat yourself. We have much to discuss.” The cardinal poured another cup of tea and put it in front of Athos.
“Your message gave no information on the reason for your summons.” Athos sat and took a sip of the tea, smiling appreciatively.
“The reason is this in a nutshell: Cardinal Richelieu left a few days ago to visit the queen after receiving notice that she was about to give birth. Yes, I know this was early. He informed the king, who insisted on going along disguised as one of his guards. Somewhere along the way they were attacked. All the guards but one were killed. Cardinal Richelieu was injured. His servant and one uninjured guard escaped with him to a monastery.”
“Were you the uninjured guard?” Athos turned toward D’Artagnan.
“I was not with them,” was the reply.
“Thank God for that, my friend,” Athos said. “But what of the king? Was he the uninjured guard?”
“No. I’m afraid that the His Majesty was killed, as well.”
Athos gasped. “What terrible news. We must search for the villains!” He began to stand.
“An admirable thought,” Cardinal Tremblay said, waving Athos back to his seat. “But misguided. We do know who the villains are, but they are inaccessible, for now. There is a more pressing task at the moment.” Cardinal Tremblay looked at Athos, then at D’Artagnan. “Back to the business at hand.”
“But why have you summoned me?” Athos asked, looking at the cardinal. “Are you asking me to assist with this task?”
“I am,” the cardinal replied.
“I will give whatever assistance I can; I am at your service, Your Eminence” Athos assured the two men.
“The task,” Cardinal Tremblay said, “is to remove the cardinal from the monastery where he is being cared for and take him to a safer place to recover from his wounds. I also ask that you use another name on the journey.”
Athos thought a moment, not wanting to refuse a cardinal or a friend, but reluctant to agree to protecting a man for whom he had no fondness. Finally, he realized that it was something he had to do. “A false name?”
“Yes. Gerard Le Roi would be a good name to use.”
D’Artagnan took up the story. “Sir, I spotted a monk at Clairefontaine who looks very much like the cardinal. In the remote chance that the cardinal, er, dies before the journey begins, I could ask the abbot if this monk could go in his place.”
Cardinal Tremblay thought a moment. “Very good. Let us pray it will not be necessary. If it is not, perhaps you should call the cardinal by this monk’s name.”
“His name is Brother Etienne. We will use that name when needed,” D’Artagnan assured him.
Cardinal Tremblay paused a moment before continuing. “I would like you to leave at once for the monastery, and then to leave as soon as possible with the cardinal. I know of a place which should be safe, but it’s some weeks’ ride from here, at least, and I know the cardinal is weak. I have an itinerary that could help you find your destination. The two of you must return to him and prepare him for the journey. If you leave now, you should arrive by late evening. Sleep when you arrive; your journey will be long and possibly fraught with danger. You must be at your best.”
“Your Eminence, I have an uncomfortable question.” At the cardinal’s nod, D’Artagnan continued. “What should we do if, God forbid, the cardinal should die during the journey? And what if it should happen when other people are around, such as at an inn.”
The cardinal thought a moment. “If such a thing should happen, this is what I think should be done. If it is at an inn, since you all are traveling incognito and, if asked, your story is that you are taking him to his family’s home in the west, you will transport his body out of the town. When you are well away from there, or if he should die in an uninhabited area, bury him in the woods, taking care to remember where.”
D’Artagnan took a deep breath. “I understand, but regret, the need to do so. Is the grave to be marked so that others can find it to bury him properly?”
“That is correct. Then go on your way, and at every town and city spread the rumor that he has been seen in a different one.”
He handed D’Artagnan a letter and a package. “This is another letter for the abbot, and this package contains funds for the trip. It should be sufficient, but be careful with it. There won’t be more.” Another pause.
“Of course, Eminence. You said you have an itinerary?”
“Yes.” He handed D’Artagnan a sealed document. “It is the most direct route, but I know that sometimes the most direct is not the best. You will be the best judge. I have included a list of several safe people, who will be sympathetic to our cause. Use them if you need to. I have provisions ready for you, packed on a horse you may take. Yes, I know that the Abbot said he would give you a horse, but his is not a wealthy abbey, as, I’m sure, he already told you. Now he may keep his horse and give you just the cart. I know it’s early, but time is of the essence. Be sure to be at your first stop within two days. Now go.”
Athos and D’Artagnan were dismissed.
“I can’t believe what I have learned tonight,” Athos said as they left Cardinal Tremblay’s residence after being given the extra horse and provisions. “The king, dead; Cardinal Richelieu gravely injured. What will happen to our beloved France now?”
“This is something we must not talk about when near others. No one must know but those of us who already know.” They talked in low voices as they walked their horses through the streets.
“But what about Porthos and Aramis? Are they to be left out?”
“Cardinal Tremblay failed to find them. Are they away on their own business?” D’Artagnan asked.
“Not that I know of.”
“They may still show up and get the message from the cardinal. Perhaps they will join us after all. The future may be unknowable, but we must do our best to guess correctly.”
They mounted their horses and rode quickly toward Clairefontaine and the monastery.