Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,119

the place of the ceremony is waiting at the gate to this orchard.'

But Savelda, who was about to take the lead, suddenly froze, with the absent gaze and slightly tilted head of someone listening very intently.

What is it now?' asked the Alchemist in an irritated tone.

Without turning round, the Black Claw's envoy lifted an imperious index finger: he demanded silence. Alter which, he

called out softly to the three men he had left as sentries in the orchard.

There was no answer.

Savelda snapped his fingers and two of the hired swordsmen accompanying him approached.

'Go and have a look,' he said with a strong Spanish accent that drew the queen's attention.

The two men unsheathed their swords and ventured out cautiously. One of them held a lantern in his left hand and a pistol in his right.

They had not taken ten steps when they came across a dead body, while an individual emerged from the shadows beneath the fruit trees. The proud, elegant assurance of the stranger worried them only slightly less than the faint smile they detected on his lips. He was dressed entirely in black, except for the slender feather decorating his hat: it was scarlet, as were the round spectacles hiding his eyes. His left hand rested nonchalantly on the pommel of his rapier in its scabbard.

The two hired swordsmen placed themselves en garde. The one with the pistol aimed it at Saint-Lucq but as he continued to advance they slowly retreated until they had rejoined Savelda and the others.

The half-blood halted and brandished a pistol of his own in his right hand. In response, three more pistols pointed at him and blades were unsheathed. The queen and her chambermaid jumped, stifling startled cries. Saint-Lucq did not even blink.

'You will go nowhere with the queen,' he said in an even tone.

'Do you intend to stop us on your own?' asked Savelda with a sneer.

'I've already started to.'

'Give it up. The numbers are in our favour.'

Saint-Lucq conspicuously pointed his pistol at the one-eyed man's brow.

'If I fire, or you do, the place will be swarming with musketeers. Is that really what you want?'

'Monsieur, tell me what is going on?' the queen asked the Alchemist. 'Who is this man and why is he trying . . .'

She trailed off, shocked at finding herself ignored by the master of magic, who instead stepped forward among the swordsmen to address the half-blood:

'Then why don't you shoot? Are you afraid of wounding Her Majesty?'

'My pistol ball will not miss its target.'

'To be sure, but after that? You are familiar with the hazards of battle, aren't you?'

'I am also familiar with them,' said a voice that no one had expected to hear.

Flanked by Marciac and Laincourt to his left and right, La Fargue had entered the orchard. They had arrived from the garden, their blades already pointed in the direction of their enemies.

'And I tell you that if you harm the queen in any way,' the captain of the Blades added, 'your death will owe nothing to the hazards of battle . . .'

Defended by steep moats, the Chateau de Dampierre had only two exits: its guarded drawbridge and the small gate at the rear of the deserted garden. Thus the Blades had no difficulty in guessing which way Anne d'Autriche had been taken. Leaving Almades behind to gain access to the king's apartments and alert Treville as quickly as possible, La Fargue had decided to go in pursuit of the queen without delay.

And in pursuit of the Alchemist of the Shadows.

The Alchemist now turned to the old gentleman. He recognised him and gave a twisted smile.

'La Fargue? Is that you?'

'It's me, Alchemist. Or whatever your real name is.'

'We meet at last! We almost met at La Rochelle, but . . . Ah! We both know what happened there, don't we?'

Savelda and his swordsmen had clustered round the Alchemist and the two women. Calm and resolute, they placed themselves on guard against attack from either direction. Rapiers in their hands, some of them also had pistols aimed at Saint-Lucq, on one side, or at La Fargue, Laincourt and

Marciac, on the other. They waited for an order, conscious of the fact that the first pistol to he fired would raise an alarm. The music coming from the castle would not be loud enough to cover the sound of shots. It merely drifted hauntingly through the otherwise silent orchard.

Anne d'Autriche and her chambermaid were clinging to one another in fright.

'This man has abused your trust, madame,' said the captain