Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,89
came into his office.
'You will meet her this evening,' she promised him. 'But for now, without further delay, I can give you some excellent news: our protegee will soon be joining the queen's suite.'
'What? So quickly . . . ? How have you managed this?'
'Providence, monsieur Mauduit. Providence . . . Today, as a favour, someone asked me to—'
.Someone r
'Cardinal Richelieu, through an intermediary ... In short, the cardinal asked me to favour a distant relative of his with an introduction into the queen's entourage.'
'The king is free to appoint whomever he pleases to the queen's household. And similarly, to expel anyone he dislikes.'
'Yes, and the queen is free to turn a cold shoulder to anyone whose presence is forced upon her. And it is just such treatment that the cardinal wishes to avoid for this relative, by asking me to intercede in her favour. I believe it is also the cardinal's way of measuring my goodwill with respect to him.'
'So you accepted.'
'Of course. But, at the same time, requested that one of my own protegees be admitted to the queen's entourage. After all, I am the duchesse de Chevreuse. It would be uncharacteristic of me to give without receiving anything in return.'
'My congratulations.'
'Thank you, monsieur. And on your side?'
'All is ready. However—'
'What?'
'This relative of the cardinal, who is she?'
'How should I know?'
'A spy?'
'Without a doubt, since such manoeuvres are very much in the manner of the king, who may not love the queen but still wishes to know her every deed and gesture. No doubt to make sure she is unhappy . . .'
The duchesse's expression grew hard: she hated the king.
'This spy could do us mischief,' said the master of magic.
'In the little time between now and the ball? Come now . . . When the moment arrives, we only need to keep her apart from our . . . arrangements.'
The Alchemist, still looking concerned, fell silent.
Mirebeau did not return until the end of the afternoon.
He had left on horseback three hours previously without saying where he was going or proposing that Leprat should accompany him. The musketeer had waited in the house at Ivry with Bertrand, the chevalier's very dour-looking valet, and a translation of The Decameron as his sole company. He was at liberty to move about, but he preferred not to stray beyond the garden. He was perhaps being watched and did not wish to raise any alarms.
Hearing horses approaching, Leprat rose from his bed, where he had been reading, and went to look out the window of his first-storey bedchamber. He took up his rapier as he passed, placed himself to one side so he would not easily be seen and gently pushed open a window frame that was already ajar, just as two riders drew up.
One of them, still elegantly dressed in beige, was Mirebeau.
He jumped down from his mount and, calling out for Ber-trand, disappeared into the house. The other man had the look of a mercenary, wearing boots, thick breeches, a leather doublet, a sword at his side and an old battered hat. Leprat guessed he must be this Rauvin of whom Mirebeau had spoken, the same man who had knocked him out by surprise in the courtyard of The Bronze Glaive.
The man with the unnatural sense of wariness, as the gentleman had put it. And therefore someone of whom he should be particularly wary himself.
Very much at ease in his saddle, Rauvin - if it was indeed him — removed his hat long enough to wipe his brow with the back of a sleeve. Leprat caught a glimpse of a blade-like face and a balding crown wreathed by long black hair, belonging to a thirty-year-old man. The man took a Jew's harp from his pocket, raised it to his mouth and made the metal strip vibrate to produce a strange melody.
As he played, he calmly lifted his eyes to the window where the musketeer stood watching him, as if to signify that he had known Leprat was there all along and could not have cared less.
Their gazes met for a long while and Leprat was filled with an absolute certainty that Rauvin represented a deadly threat to him.
'Gueret!' Mirebeau called from the stairway. 'Gueret!'
The false agent of the queen mother turned away from the window just as Mirebeau entered.
'Please get ready,' requested the gentleman in the beige doublet. 'We're leaving.'
'We?'
'You, me and Rauvin, who is waiting for us below.'