The Cardinal's Blades

12

As La Fargue had not informed anyone that he’d recruited Saint-Lucq, the half-blood’s entrance on the stage took the others off guard but was not altogether surprising. First, because the Blades could not claim to be complete without him. And second, because Saint-Lucq had always been an irregular soldier who was most effective when he was off on his own, operating in the shadows. The news that he brought, moreover, took priority in their minds. He announced it at once, without pausing for preliminaries, in the courtyard of the Hotel de l’Epervier.

“Agnes has been abducted.”

“‘Abducted’?” Ballardieu roared.

Bursting with anger, he took a menacing step toward Saint-Lucq, who did not make any gesture, either to defend himself or to retreat. It took more than this to impress him.

La Fargue, on the other hand, moved to interpose himself between the two Blades.

“Let him explain what happened, Ballardieu.”

Impassive, the half-blood recounted his tale.

“I was watching this house according to your orders…”

“Cecile’s house,” the captain clarified for the others.

“I suppose that Agnes entered around the back because I didn’t see her beforehand. And the same for the men who came out with her and took her away.”

“But what men, by God?!” shouted Ballardieu.

“Hired swordsmen,” replied Saint-Lucq calmly.

“And you did nothing!”

“No. Agnes didn’t want me to intervene. She wanted these men to take her away.”

“How do you know that?”

“Agnes saw me in the street. She threw me a glance and I understood.”

“You’re very clever…!”

“More than you.”

“What?”

Ballardieu, red in the face, seemed to expand in volume. Saint-Lucq looked at him disdainfully, without so much as a quiver, and said: “You heard me.”

“That’s enough!” intervened La Fargue in a loud voice.

Leprat, who had come down into the courtyard despite the wound in his thigh, forced Ballardieu to move back, taking him by the arm. Only Marciac was missing, having gone to find Cecile in her room just as the half-blood was announced.

“Go on, Saint-Lucq. What happened next?”

“Next? Nothing… I followed them for as long as I could, but they soon mounted horses. I was on foot.”

“What’s going on?” demanded Marciac, coming out of the stables and passing Leprat, who was still trying to calm Ballardieu. “Well! Hello, Saint-Lucq.”

“Agnes has been abducted,” explained La Fargue.

“Oh? By whom?”

“By hired swordsmen led by a one-eyed man afflicted by the ranse,” said the half-blood.

“My one-eyed man with the ranse?” asked the Gascon. “The one from last night?”

“And the same man as this morning,” added Almades. “The riders we passed on the road, they were also led by a man whose eye was ruined by the ranse.”

“That means that Agnes is in the hands of the Black Claw,” concluded La Fargue. “She allowed herself to be taken in order to unmask our adversaries, but she couldn’t guess that-”

“I’m afraid I have another piece of bad news to announce,” declared Marciac. “Cecile has disappeared. She has run away.”

“Merde!”

The captain’s profanity rang out like a musket shot in the courtyard.

The Blades searched the Hotel de l’Epervier from top to bottom and, when Cecile’s disappearance was no longer in any doubt, they gathered in the main room. The young woman had almost certainly slipped out through the garden, where they discovered the gate ajar-from there, she would have had no difficulty losing herself in a maze of alleys and passageways. A wider search would thus have proved futile.

“I think she must have been listening at the door during our meeting,” said Marciac. “No doubt wishing to avoid answering the questions that we intended to ask her, she preferred to duck out. We were too trusting of her. She wasn’t the poor orphan that we believed, mixed up against her will in a dark intrigue. I would even wager that her sister, who supposedly disappeared at the same as the chevalier d’Ireban, never existed.”

“She and Ireban are one and the same,” announced Saint-Lucq, throwing a small bundle of documents on the table. “I found these in her home. Reading them, you’ll discover that Cecile is the daughter of a great Spanish lord, that she and Castilla are lovers, and that they fled Spain together, Cecile disguising herself as a man to fool any spies. You’ll also see therein that Cecile and Castilla not only feared the wrath of her father but also that of another mysterious enemy.”

“The Black Claw,” guessed Leprat.

“Must I remind you that Agnes is in the Black Claw’s hands?” Ballardieu interjected in tight voice that barely concealed his contained anger. “Isn’t that the most important thing?”

“Yes,” said La Fargue. “However, it is perhaps only by getting to the bottom of this whole story that we will find a way to rescue Agnes

…”

“And I tell you that we need to do everything in our power to save her. Starting right now!”

“Agnes voluntarily placed herself in the lion’s jaws,” Leprat reasoned, “but she may not have known which lion was involved.”

“She passed right in front of me,” Saint-Lucq pointed out. “I heard the one-eyed man talking to her as they took her away, and by all appearances, they mistook her for Cecile. That won’t last. Ballardieu is right: time is running short.”

“Who can help us?” the old soldier asked. “The cardinal? Castilla?”

“I doubt that Castilla is in any state to talk,” said Almades. “As for the cardinal…”

Silence fell upon them, heavy with worry compounded by a sense of impotence.

“Malencontre,” said Leprat after a long moment.

The others stared at him, while Almades explained briefly to Saint-Lucq who this Malencontre was. That done, Leprat continued: “Malencontre belongs to the Black Claw; otherwise we would not have surprised him beneath Castilla’s windows. And he must know a great deal, or the cardinal would not have taken him from us.”

“But if I follow the chronology of events correctly,” said Saint-Lucq, “this man can’t know where Agnes is being held today, because he was arrested yesterday-”

“He certainly knows enough to put us on the right track!”

“Yes!” exclaimed Ballardieu. “Yes! That’s an excellent idea!”

He turned toward La Fargue and solicited his opinion with a glance.

“The idea is a good one, yes… But-”

“But, we don’t know were he can be found at present,” Marciac filled in for his captain. “Moreover, we will not be able to reach him without permission from the cardinal. And, finally, he won’t talk unless we can offer him something in return.”

“Freedom,” said Almades. “Malencontre knows he is lost. He will not talk in return for anything less than his liberty.”

“We’ll persuade Richelieu to offer Malencontre his freedom!” declared Ballardieu. “If he knows that Agnes’s life hangs in the balance…”

He wanted to believe it, but the others were less confident. What price did the cardinal currently place on the life of one of his Blades? He had never hesitated to sacrifice them on the altar of political necessity in the past.

“I can arrange a meeting with His Eminence quickly,” proposed Saint-Lucq.

“Then let us try that,” concluded La Fargue.

They all rose and Marciac took the captain to one side.

“With your permission, I would like to go in search of Cecile.”

“Do you know where she went?”

The Gascon smiled.

“If Agnes were here, she would tell you that you do not know women very well, captain.”

“That may be. Go ahead, follow your idea. But we will have need of you soon.”

“I won’t be long.”