Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,118

was led by two mercenaries who knew how to fight a lone opponent without hindering one another. Taking a step back, and then another, the musketeer had to defend himself against two men and two sets of skills. Against two blades which he finally managed, with a single slash of his own weapon, to force away from his own body and downwards to the ground. His move unbalanced both his adversaries and made one of them particularly vulnerable. Leprat delivered a blow with his fist that caused the man to stumble forward, right into the waiting knee that lifted his chin sharply and broke his neck with a sinister crack.

Three down.

Only two mercenaries remained.

Parrying a high sword stroke from one man, Leprat pushed the other back with a violent kick to the stomach. Then he surprised the first by elbowing him in his Adam's apple and finished him off by head-butting him right in the (ace. His

nose and mouth covered in blood, the man crumpled to the black marble floor.

Four.

The last mercenary was already charging him from behind.

Leprat spun and riposted in a single movement of lethal fluidity. He was still only halfway round and bending his knees when he blocked a vicious cut. Then he rose, letting the other man's blade slide down his own until it reached the hilt. Finally, he completed his turn by plunging a dagger he had snatched from the belt of his previous opponent into the mercenary's belly. The unfortunate wretch froze, dropping his blade and fumbling at the dagger's hilt. He collapsed after managing a few erratic steps.

And that mattes five.

Out of breath, his brow shining with sweat and his eyes blazing, Leprat turned towards Rauvin and once again placed himself en garde.

'My congratulations,' said the hired killer as he drew his sword. 'Now it's just the two of us.'

He slashed at the air with his blade and the duel commenced.

At Dampierre, three silhouettes were crossing the duchesse de Chevreuse's private garden. Closed to guests on a false pretext, this little park adjoining the castle was now standing empty except for shadows. The trio, all wearing dark cloaks, were obviously in a hurry. They turned back several times towards the windows as if they feared being seen and hid themselves whenever the moon peeped out from between the clouds.

The one who claimed to be Mauduit, master of magic, was leading them.

'This way, madame.'

Anne d'Autriche followed him, unaware that she was placing her fate in the hands of the Black Claw's most formidable agent. She was accompanied by a chambermaid who, when the moment came, she believed, would help her to disrobe and put on the ritual garment before the ceremony that would at last let her become a mother. The young servant girl was trembling and casting frightened looks all around, but was

ready to do anything in the service of her queen. Both of them were wearing black velvet masks beneath their large hoods.

At the rear of the garden, they came to a gate set in the wall.

'Be brave, madame,' murmured the Alchemist. 'The hardest part is over. Once we reach the cover of the trees, we can no longer be seen from the castle.'

He opened the gate with a key the duchesse de Chevreuse had given him and then held his hand out to the queen to assist her passage over a small wooden bridge, a sort of covered walkway that allowed strollers to cross the moat and enter the orchard.

There were armed men waiting on the other side, beneath the trees, some of them carrying dark lanterns.

'Who are these men?' asked the queen in a worried voice, but stopping herself from retreating.

'Your escort, madame. Don't be afraid.'

Anxious but still resolved to see the matter through, Anne d'Autriche nodded. She drew closer to her servant, however, and took her hand while the Alchemist exchanged a few words in a low voice with a one-eyed man whose face was visibly marked by the ranse. With an olive complexion and craggy features, the man was wearing a black leather patch adorned by silver studs over his missing eye. It was Savelda, although the queen remained ignorant of his name. Just as she was unaware that he was the henchman most valued by the masters of the Black Claw.

He finally nodded in agreement and the false magic master returned to the two women.

'All is well, madame,' he affirmed. 'However, we must hurry because it will soon be midnight. The coach that will take us to