Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,16

He was thirty-five to forty years of age, with sharp features and the confident gaze of someone who knows they have not faltered, and never will, in fulfilling their duties. He was armed with a rapier that had become famous. Entirely white, made of ivory, it had been carved from tip to pommel from a single dragon's tooth. He wore it on his right side, being left-handed.

Antoine Leprat, chevalier d'Orgueil and a former member of the King's Musketeers, removed his hat to salute the captain.

Treville welcomed him with a smile.

'Good morning, Leprat. How are you?'

'Very well, monsieur. Thank you.'

'And your thigh?'

'Completely healed, monsieur.'

It was a somewhat excessive claim. But in the King's Musketeers men quickly acquired the habit of minimising the gravity of a wound and exaggerating the speed of their recovery, out of fear of being passed over when the next mission was assigned.

'But it was a rather nasty wound . . .'

'It wasn't before I hit on the notion of jumping out of a window,' Leprat replied with a smile.

'And what a strange notion that was . . .'

'Indeed.'

The two men, separated in age by more than fifteen years, exchanged an amused, knowing glance.

But Treville's expression became clouded.

'Yesterday,' he said, 'I received a letter from your father.' He pointed to the missive he had placed on the table before Leprat entered. 'He is worried about you. He has become anxious since he heard that you left the Musketeers.'

'My father the comte fears, above all else, that I will harm his reputation. By meeting an ignoble death while carrying out a clandestine mission, for example. I would be a source of pride to him if I died on the field of battle, wearing the cape of a true Musketeer, monsieur. But as far as posterity is concerned, there is nothing for him to gain if I serve under the orders of Captain La Fargue . . . The comte's only concern is for the glory attached to his name,' Leprat concluded.

'Perhaps he is also worried about the glory attached to yours . . .'

The former musketeer smiled bitterly.

'If the comte were to hear my body had been found lying in the gutter, my death would bother him less than the state of the gutter.'

Saddened, Treville rose and returned to the window.

He remained there for a moment, hands behind his back, silent and troubled.

'All the same, chevalier, you will always be free to rejoin the Musketeers. As you know, you are only on leave of absence. Unlimited leave, to be sure, but a leave of absence nonetheless. Say the word, and I will reinstate you.'

'Thank you, monsieur.'

Treville turned his back to the window and looked directly into Leprat's eyes.

'You know the esteem in which I hold Captain La Fargue. I have no wish to force you to choose between two loyalties. But you would also be serving the king by wearing the Musketeers' cape. So please keep yours, chevalier. And think on the matter. There will always be time and opportunity to change your mind.'

Cardinal Richelieu emerged, extremely preoccupied, from his interview with Louis XIII. But he did not let his feelings show and decided to make an appearance in the Great Hall of the Louvre, where ministers and courtiers, officers and parasites, beautiful ladies and great lords were all gathered together. He seemed unruffled, smiled, engaged in conversation, and patiently endured the demands of his hangers-on, supplicants, and flatterers. To complete his pretence of normality, he envisaged paying a visit to the queen in her apartments. But was that a wise idea?

It was vital that he allayed the suspicions of anyone who was already worried, or would soon be, over why the king — in an extremely ugly mood, moreover - had detained his chief minister at the end of the Council meeting. The decisions that Louis XIII had made and the irrevocable orders he had issued during their tete-a-tete could put the kingdom to fire and to the sword. When the moment came they would have to strike quickly, forcefully, and accurately — and without showing so much as an ounce of mercy. That moment was fast approaching. But until it came, the only way to avoid a fatal conflagration was to keep the king's plans an absolute secret. And a secret was best preserved when everyone remained unaware of its importance.

Hence the cardinal would try to behave as if nothing was amiss. Today he planned to attend all of his meetings and ensure that the number of