Читать книгу The Cardinal's Red Lily - M. von Strom - Страница 7

When d'Artagnan reached his accommodation in Rue Tiquetonne, he was no longer limping. Perhaps he was too absorbed in his thoughts to pay any further attention to his injuries or he simply did not want to admit any weakness to Rochefort. The stable master had joined him, saying only, ʹI shall accompany you.ʹ D'Artagnan had not contradict him.

On the way to d'Artagnan's home they were not disturbed by the town guards, at best a few suspicious looks followed them because of the dishevelled appearance of the former musketeer. D'Artagnan did not care, he had started enough arguments for today. He had lived in Paris for so many years now that he no longer thought that every remark or glance was an attack on his honour. Even the last duel with Rochefort was several years ago and from that they had emerged as friends. So they walked the path together in silence, and just as naturally, d'Artagnan let the stable master enter his lodgings without the need for any words.

While d'Artagnan refreshed himself at the wash bowl in his bedroom and made himself more or less presentable again, Rochefort uncorked a bottle of good wine from Anjou taken from the stock in the kitchen. Equipped with cups and wine, the stable master strolled over to the salon and sat down in a comfortable armchair. He had to admit that d'Artagnan had not furnished himself badly. As lieutenant, he could not exactly live off the fat of the land, but he had found a good accommodation after moving out of his old attic room. He seemed to be well looked after here, and Rochefort asked mockingly when d'Artagnan joined him in a fresh linen shirt and with a less bloody nose, ʹIs your landlady not here at all? She usually rushes over immediately if you get even the slightest scratch and raises a hue and cry.ʹ

ʹMock me all you like, Rochefort,ʹ the younger replied with half a smile and had wine poured for himself. ʹMy Chevrette is a good woman.ʹ

ʹShe keeps your bed warm.ʹ

ʹShe lets me stay for rent even when I am not paid.ʹ D'Artagnan found that while he was talking about his landlady, his mind was already wandering back to the rear building at the Three Crowns and to the unexpected meeting with the mademoiselle. Her determined look, the pistol. Had she really threatened him? No, she could have just stayed in her room. Had she perhaps protected someone else? Like younger siblings? She had a lovely dimple on her chin.

Rochefort leaned back in his armchair and watched the lieutenant over the edge of his cup of wine. ʹHow long are you going to keep this up?ʹ

ʹI very much hope for a while longer!ʹ D'Artagnan knew that Rochefort did not mean his relationship with Madeleine Chevrette and unfortunately, after this evasive answer, the stable master did not let it go.

ʹYou want to commute between home and tavern for a while longer, depending on where is more wine? My dear friend, you have picked up some bad habits.ʹ

ʹFrom you?ʹ

ʹFrom Athos.ʹ

An expression of bitterness was evident in d'Artagnan's face. ʹAthos has inherited. On his country estate, he has other worries than looking after the affairs of Paris. You, Rochefort, are the only friend I have left.ʹ

ʹIndeed, and I still bear the marks of your friendship.ʹ Rochefort greeted the other with a raised cup and without grudge. ʹI was spared another scar today, but next time I will not pull you out of the turmoil.ʹ

D'Artagnan laughed. ʹSo you saved me! I am curious, how does it feel to rush in at the right moment and be the hero?ʹ

ʹYou tell me. According to the stories, you save noble ladies almost every day, even queens or the whole of France.ʹ

ʹThere are stories?ʹ

ʹNo.ʹ

ʹRegrettable.ʹ The lieutenant sighed sadly. ʹI'm just a soldier who has resigned and is no longer needed. I have been forgotten at royal court. Without the musketeers, I am nothing.ʹ

ʹIndeed,ʹ Rochefort agreed completely unaffected and d'Artagnan pulled a wry face. ʹI love you too.ʹ

ʹDid you want to hear something else?ʹ The comte shook his head. ʹI'm not here to listen to your self-pitying whining.ʹ

ʹBut you drink my wine anyway!ʹ

ʹAnd it is quite excellent, I admit.ʹ

D'Artagnan realised that his piercing looks bounced off Rochefort without effect, so he turned up his nose and gave them both a refill. ʹIf not for a comforting embrace and an encouraging slap on the back, why are you here?ʹ

ʹFor two reasons; First, to repeat my question. How long are you going to keep this up?ʹ

ʹSecondly?ʹ

Rochefort shrugged. ʹTo maliciously exploit your situation for my own purposes, of course.ʹ

ʹAh, you never give me any warning beforehand? You must be serious, and we are not just talking in friendship, we are talking business.ʹ D'Artagnan eyed the stable master with interest. Rochefort was certainly exaggerating; perhaps he was truly offering the former musketeer a good opportunity to get back into paid employment after weeks of inactivity and worries about his own future.

After the last conversation with Monsieur de Tréville, d'Artagnan had still been determined not to simply accept the dissolution of the regiment. He should have followed the captain's advice to do nothing. All d'Artagnan had achieved by an audience with the king was to remove himself from his post.

Louis XIII. was disappointed, shaken in his confidence because of Tréville's alleged betrayal. D'Artagnan did not know how much truth there was in the charges against the captain; conspiracy against His Eminence, cardinal Richelieu, the prime minister - against France itself. He did not know what had really happened. All parties were silent about the details, and rumours were not very credible. Such intrigues were regulated by the royal court among itself and the end of a small regiment was collateral damage.

D'Artagnan's request to be heard by the king was granted, but the lieutenant should not have been so naive as to believe that his intercession and his arguments would cause anything other than even greater anger on His Majesty's part. The audience passed... stormy. While the other musketeers were finally divided and transferred, their lieutenant was no longer needed.

D'Artagnan was petrified and completely stunned for the first few days. He had served loyally for more than ten years, had even ridden right by the king's side and been asked for his opinion many times - and now he was forgotten, in disgrace. Not dishonourably discharged, not that! Just not reinstated.

The lieutenant had spent the following weeks in a stupor, actually he had spent them between home and changing taverns. Whenever he had met former comrades on the street, he had felt ashamed, had harshly dismissed friendly and encouraging words until they were completely lacking.

How he would have loved to exchange letters with Athos, Porthos and Aramis, asking for friendly advice! But they had not written to each other for several years. Hell, d'Artagnan did not even know where to look for his old friends! Aramis was convoked an abbé, Porthos newly married for the umpteenth time. Athos had not returned from his last mission and had only left a letter of resignation to the captain. Never before had d'Artagnan felt so abandoned. Never before had he felt so superfluous, for he had no more mission to perform. Rochefort had asked a rhetorical question; he could not continue like this for much longer.

The stable master nodded knowingly. ʹI have an offer to make, indeed. Unless you want to go on loitering like an abdicated soldier at the back tables of the tavern.ʹ

ʹWhere is the malice in that?ʹ

ʹYou will not like the suggestion.ʹ

D'Artagnan almost laughed cynically. With one single exception, he would have liked every recommendation if it would only bring back solid ground under his feet. ʹAre you going to convey to me His Eminence's generous offer to admit me to the ranks of his guard?ʹ

ʹYes.ʹ

At first nothing happened. Then d'Artagnan jumped up and a torrent of flowery exclamations fell upon the stable master, who waited patiently until the Gascon ran out of air and curses. It took quite a while.

ʹAre you finished?ʹ Rochefort did not give his friend the opportunity to get newly angry about this. ʹSit down and listen!ʹ

For a moment longer d'Artagnan seemed to regret having left his sword in the bedroom. Then he sat down again and pressed his lips so tightly together that they formed a thin line. The outburst of anger had given him a healthy complexion, making the scratches from the beating even more prominent. Tomorrow he might expect a headache and a swollen eye.

Rochefort almost smiled about it. D'Artagnan had not changed that much since his first days in Paris; he had kept his hot temper, which the stable master now tried to tame. ʹIf you want to wait until the king forgives you for your impertinent behaviour, fine. I wish you good luck in this hopeless endeavour.ʹ

ʹImpertinence is more to blame on you than meʹ, growled d'Artagnan. ʹNow I understand what you meant in that courtyard. How you would have liked it if I had owed you my life and a favour. To make me such an offer! Fie, Rochefort!ʹ

ʹIndeed, blackmailing your freedom against your sword for His Eminence would not be able to get at you.ʹ

ʹTo hell! Do you have no sense of honour at all that you would extort an old friend?ʹ

Rochefort waved it off. ʹAbove all, I do not have time for games like this. To get you out of the Bastille would even cost me several days and who can say what condition you would be in then.ʹ

ʹOne could almost think that you are worried about me.ʹ

ʹD'Artagnan, I play with my cards on the table. Whether I care for you or not is not important now. This is business, and I am just the messenger.ʹ

ʹWell, my dear garçon de courses!ʹ The lieutenant proudly straightened up himself. ʹThen tell the cardinal that no price on my blade is high enough to sell it to him!ʹ

ʹThe musketeers corps.ʹ

ʹPardon?ʹ

Rochefort swivelled the wine in the cup and looked at it in a pensive way. ʹThe price. The reinstatement of the regiment in full honour. Perhaps even with you as the new captain. Richelieu's influence on His Majesty is more than sufficient for that.ʹ

ʹHa, it certainly is!ʹ D'Artagnan snorted disparagingly. ʹWhy the circuitous route via the red guard? You are out of your mind, Rochefort! The musketeers and guardsmen were never on good terms. Even if it was worth the price, I would hardly survive a week!ʹ

ʹIf you do not play dumb, both of you are going to get along for a while.ʹ Rochefort shrugged as if all concerns were trivial and dismissed with a simple gesture. ʹIt should only last for a few weeks, enough time to prove your qualities again. You will have to endure every difficulty and every contempt for a greater goal. Perhaps even you will be able to avoid a duel for once.ʹ

ʹI feel a great desire to fight with you in my parlour right now!ʹ

ʹBut meanwhile you are too prudent for that.ʹ

ʹYes, I am!ʹ D'Artagnan still could hardly believe what was being offered to him. He, a cardinal's guardsman! Not only the abhorrence of his new comrades would await him, but also the contempt of all former musketeers, all his old friends and companions, if they ever learned of it. If he should ever see Monsieur de Tréville again, the captain would turn away angry and disappointed. Would it be worth it saving the regiment? To become a red guard for a short period of time, as Rochefort demanded? He was anything but so willing to make sacrifices, he was no hero. For good reason the prospect of promotion was still beckoning. ʹShow me your remaining cards! My eternal gratitude and loyalty for Richelieu's generosity in granting me this opportunity and baiting me with the post of senior officer - that will hardly be all.ʹ

ʹDo you hold yourself in such low esteem that your loyalty may not be profit enough?ʹ

ʹWhen was the last time I was standing in the cardinal's way that he needed to retain me?ʹ

Rochefort sighed. ʹI must have been mistaken, you have lost your guts. I will keep my cards closed if you lack ambition to take a risk.ʹ He put down his cup and rose. ʹThen we have nothing more to say to each other for today.ʹ

ʹWait!ʹ called d'Artagnan from a moments impulse. He had clenched one hand to a fist and was now using it as a support on his chin to give it a meaning other than beating up a stable master. Rochefort gave the lieutenant the opportunity to sort out a few thoughts and d'Artagnan finally said, ʹWe both know there is more to it. Will you tell me before I agree to give away everything I have lived for the last few years? Are you willing to take that risk?ʹ

ʹAre you asking a creature of the cardinal or a friend?ʹ

ʹI ask you, you always act both ways.ʹ

Rochefort eyed him for a long moment. Then he turned to leave and said at the door, ʹCome tomorrow morning to the Palais Cardinal, His Eminence's study. I promise you, as a friend, you will be allowed to leave unhindered, if you wish so.ʹ

D'Artagnan waited until he heard the front door fall into the lock. Only then did he rest his head in his hands and murmured softly ʹMordieuxʹ.