Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,107

had probably been traced in preparation for a ritual that would take place that very night, during the ball being given by the duchesse de Chevreuse. And the Blades suspected this ritual of being a means, if not the ultimate end, of the plot against the king.

Teyssier, on the other hand, was growing more and more doubtful that this was the case . . .

'There was a symbol resembling the letter N, here,' Saint-Lucq was saying. 'And over here, something that looked rather like the number 7 . . . And that's about all.'

The young master of magic had recognised the two draconic glyphs recalled by the half-blood. He copied them onto the paper.

'Nothing else?' he asked.

'I don't think so.'

He made a few revisions to his sketch and then turned the sheet of paper around and pushed it across the table towards Saint-Lucq.

'So it looked like this?'

The half-blood studied the drawing carefully and then nodded.

'As far as I can recollect, yes.'

La Fargue ceased his pacing. Marciac stopped rocking in his chair. As for Laincourt, he straightened up with a puzzled look and said:

'There must be some mistake . . .'

'The drawing is just like the pentacle I remember,' asserted Saint-Lucq crossing his arms.

'What?' asked the old captain. 'Why would it be a mistake?'

Teyssier hesitated.

He exchanged a glance with Laincourt that confirmed the doubts and fears of both men. But still he kept silent. It was therefore the cardinal's former spy who announced:

'This pentacle is beneficial, captain. It can't harm anyone. Neither the king, nor anyone else.'

The king and his court arrived at Dampierre during the afternoon.

Louis XIII and the gentlemen of his suite rode at the head of the procession with' panache, followed just behind by a detachment of musketeers. Pulled by a team of six magnificent horses, the king's golden coach followed. Then came that of the queen, and finally those of the great lords and courtiers, in order of their rank and favour. More riders in small groups brought up the rear; others trotted alongside the carriages so that they could converse with the passengers; while the most impetuous urged their mounts to prance and twirl in an effort to please the ladies who watched and laughed, bright-eyed, from behind their delicate fans.

Leaving the baggage train far behind, the parade of coaches was a splendid, joyful sight to behold, sparkling in the sun despite the dust that rose in its passage. It attracted crowds of spectators who gathered at the entrances of villages and along the roads. As it approached Dampierre, heralds spurred their horses forward to announce the coming of the king. While protocol required this, it was an unnecessary precaution. Runners had already cut across the fields to deliver breathless warnings at the castle, alarming those who had not yet finished erecting a platform, painting a fence or raking a lawn. 'The king! The king!' From the kitchens to the attic, and all the way out into the gardens, there was a great flurry of activity, with a final nail being hammered down just before the trumpets sounded.

Everything was ready, however, by the time His Majesty passed through the gates of Dampierre.

Leprat took advantage of this distraction to slip away from Rauvin, who had been breathing down his neck all morning. Although the mercenary was not following him openly, he was always somewhere in the background, no matter where Leprat went or what he did. The musketeer therefore had no choice but to carry out the tasks assigned to him by Mirebeau, who had become strangely distant. This coldness left Leprat perplexed, but he was not inclined to dwell on the matter. After all, Mirebeau must have worries of his own. For his part, Leprat had enough to think about between his mission, the danger posed by Rauvin, the underground spell chamber and the possible plot against the king. And when he wasn't preoccupied by all that, his ranse — which he knew had taken a sudden turn for the worse — continued to haunt him.

But the king's arrival gave Leprat an opportunity to take a horse and discreetly get away on his own.

There were things he needed to do in the woods and, in any case, he was better off avoiding Dampierre now that the castle was swarming with blue capes. Louis XIII never went anywhere without his regiment of musketeers, all of whom knew Leprat by sight and were thus liable to unmask him.

He rode for a quarter of an hour through the underbrush