The Cardinal's Blades

9

Agnes de Vaudreuil cursed between her teeth when she discovered the empty cache in the bedroom floor.

Suspecting that Cecile wanted to recover something compromising from her home, Agnes had quickly and discreetly gone there to search the small house from top to bottom. To do so, she had hailed an empty sedan chair that was passing on rue des Saints-Peres and asked the bearers to carry her to rue d’Orleans in faubourg Saint Victor, by way of rue de la Fontaine. She had paid in advance, climbed into the little cabin through the door at the front, between the two handles, and, as soon as the curtains were drawn, felt herself being lifted before she let herself be cradled by the steady rocking of the bearers’ walking pace. As they passed along rue de la Fontaine, she had opened a curtain slightly to identify the house Marciac had described and inspect its surroundings without being seen. She had seen nothing disquieting. Descending from the vehicle in rue d’Orleans, she had circled round to enter the premises from the rear, through the garden, remaining out of view of any watchers.

And now Agnes had to face up to two obvious facts. First, she had indeed guessed correctly about Cecile’s intentions: she had been hiding something in her bedroom, something valuable enough to her that she wanted to return to the house despite the danger, even attempting to use her charms on Marciac to convince him to accompany her. And second, someone had pipped Agnes at the post and seized the prize before her.

But who?

The same men who had tried to abduct Cecile, no doubt.

Makeshift as it was, the cache in the floor was not large and offered no clues as to what it had contained. The best thing to do, therefore, would be to seek information from the principal interested party, Cecile herself. In any case, Agnes felt that the Blades-at La Fargue’s request-had been too gentle with her. Granted, the young woman had been the victim of a brutal attempt to kidnap her and she did not seem prepared to face this sort of adventure. But the gratitude which she displayed toward her new protectors did not extend as far as laying her true cards on the table. Now convinced of Cecile’s duplicity, Agnes was determined not to tolerate it any longer.

To set her mind at rest, she continued to search the entire house. In vain. And when she pushed open the little door leading to the garden, Agnes suddenly found herself standing nose-to-nose with an armed, one-eyed man in black who-initially as surprised as Agnes-smiled at her in a sinister manner.

“Well, well!” he exclaimed with a strong Spanish accent. “So the little bird has returned to its nest…”

Agnes immediately understood.

She wore a plain dress, a thin brown coat, and a matching short cape with a hood. The modesty of her attire had been calculated: not knowing that she would have the luxury of making her journey in a sedan chair, the young baronne had left the Hotel de l’Epervier thinking that she would have to walk to her destination, then loiter near the house while she scouted the surroundings. She had thus wished to go unnoticed and, to that end, the best thing was to seem neither too rich nor too poor. But Cecile could very well have been dressed in similar fashion. She and Agnes also had their beauty, their long, dark hair, and their youth in common, being only a few years apart. If the one-eyed man had never met either of them and had been given only a brief description of Cecile, he was entirely likely to mistake one woman for the other.

Agnes promptly adopted a fearful attitude, as one would expect of a defenceless young woman who had just fallen into the hands of a menacing enemy. Besides, the one-eyed man was not alone. Some hired swordsmen with an evil look accompanied him.

“As Heaven is my witness,” said the Spaniard, exhibiting the cruel signs of the ranse that had destroyed his eye and was ravaging his cheek, “I could never have hoped for so much in coming here… My name is Savelda, Cecile.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know what’s wanted of you and it isn’t for me to decide. I can only promise that no harm will come to you if you follow us without making a struggle or noise. So, Cecile? Will you be reasonable?”

“Yes.”

A few minutes later, Agnes found herself back on rue de la Fontaine, closely hemmed in by the hired swordsmen, with Savelda leading the way. It was there that she saw and recognised Saint-Lucq; wearing dark clothing and a sword at his side and discreetly positioned at the entrance to an alleyway, he observed the scene from behind his ever-present red spectacles.

Agnes’s astonishment was such that she almost betrayed her emotion. All they needed was the half-blood for the Cardinal’s Blades to be complete, but La Fargue had not announced his recruitment to anyone. Yet… his presence here could not be mere chance? No doubt he was watching the house. Perhaps it had even been Saint-Lucq who had searched the premises and emptied the cache inside. It was ironic that it was her own fault they had missed one another: he could not have guessed that she was in the sedan chair that had passed by in the street and then she had entered the house by the rear while he had been keeping his eye on the main facade out front.

Seeing Agnes being led away, Saint-Lucq was already taking a step toward her and reaching for his sword-if he hadn’t lost any of his skills the matter would doubtless be quickly settled. Only Savelda could perhaps pose a problem. But the false captive stopped the half-blood in his tracks with a glance that she hoped he would comprehend.

Sometimes, throwing yourself into the lion’s jaws was the only means of finding its den.