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kingmbutu Thank you. I've missed it too.
Fulcrumvale Alive indeed, though a little slow still
canonized Thank you indeed. Jean's father is actually quite difficult to write.
Rensslaer I will just saw that I am very interested by people's responses to Jean's father.
coz1 No doubt. Jean's father's arrival in Madrid has upset more than a few assumptions.
GhostWriter Thank you again for your continued encouragement
Draco Rexus In that my friend you will have to be a little disappointed. As you shall see...
Nil-The-Frogg There is a sense here in that older Jean may be more like Father than the younger Jean would have liked.
J. Passepartout There is indeed more.
All I have spent several weeks writing and re-writing a portion of the forthcoming post. While I am happier with it than I was, I am not entirely so. But I am fed up of troubling myself over it so here it is.
Hopefully it will not be so long until my next update.
Fulcrumvale Alive indeed, though a little slow still
canonized Thank you indeed. Jean's father is actually quite difficult to write.
Rensslaer I will just saw that I am very interested by people's responses to Jean's father.
coz1 No doubt. Jean's father's arrival in Madrid has upset more than a few assumptions.
GhostWriter Thank you again for your continued encouragement
Draco Rexus In that my friend you will have to be a little disappointed. As you shall see...
Nil-The-Frogg There is a sense here in that older Jean may be more like Father than the younger Jean would have liked.
J. Passepartout There is indeed more.
All I have spent several weeks writing and re-writing a portion of the forthcoming post. While I am happier with it than I was, I am not entirely so. But I am fed up of troubling myself over it so here it is.
Hopefully it will not be so long until my next update.
The Past (14th July 1682) - A few hours later
Father signs a final piece of paper, and looks up. We are both in common garb. “It is time we were off. Tell me, how do you usually slip out of the place?”
“So far, with Captain Bernhardt’s aid.”
“A good man, but sometimes you must be self-reliant. Tonight I will show you a way that requires no outside assistance, but be careful. Once it becomes known it looses its utility.”
“Another secret tunnel?”
He smirks. “A door to the sewers. Follow me.” He leads me to a closet sunk into a wall at the corner of the Embassy. “Now, if you put your hand here you will find a catch. Go on.”
I do as He directs, and feel the chill of a piece of metal.
“See?” He pulls my hand out and inserts his own, “Now if you pull it will unlock a door.” Nothing happens, and He frowns. “It is stiff. You must be gentle for if this breaks you will not be able to open the door from this side.” His brows furrow, his hand jerks back, and there is a click. “Some oil I think, when I return tonight.” He pushes the side of the closet, and what appeared to be wall swings open. “There are several convenient exit points nearby, and there is a walkway beside the sewer channel you can use if the waters are not running high.” He sniffs the air. “Smells as bad as ever – don’t keep this door open too long else its fragrance might attract attention.”
“Does anyone else know of this?”
“No. I have never told anyone, and I don’t believe the Spanish ever worked this one out. Now, hold that lantern up and let’s away.”
We descend into the darkness, and He closes the door behind us. We walk about one hundred yards or so and reach a small recess. From his belt he produces a set of keys. “I will give you this tomorrow. They unlock most of the gates that guard the sewer entrances. Sometimes during the day you need to arrange to bribe the guards, but at night most entrances are unmanned.”
We emerge onto a deserted street.
I think of Mary. “Will we return tonight?”
“I will, else de Tallon will become suspicious. You may or not as you please. Now, firstly, what name do you go by at the Red Lion?”
“Giovanni.”
He chuckles. “Simple, but effective. Secondly, tell me about this assassination.”
We walk through the streets of Madrid, yet I feel like I am back in His study, answering questions on an assignment. But there is one contrast: He never suggests I should have acted other than I did. The questions He asks are to provide clarification, not to expose a flaw in my reasoning. He listens as I talk of interrogating Bertrand, of canvassing Henri, and of killing Martin and his woman. We walk in silence, our boots tapping on the stone.
At last He speaks. “I worked differently, in my tenure here. Charles was … is a friend, but I kept our affairs quite separate. We were companions, not partners, even if he owed me a debt.”
I swallow. “As to that,” I say, “Mary has formed a liaison with me.”
He pauses. “You do sound displeased.”
“I am not.”
“It is your choice. It may be that you shall have in them something I never did in all my time here.” He draws a deep breath. “I envy you that.”
I blink. “What?” I ask before I can think.
He lifts up his head and stops. The Red Lion is visible at the end of the avenue, and ribald music pollutes the moment. “A home.”
I stop, and Father walks several paces before I realise I have halted. I hurry to catch-up. “Make the most of it,” he says as I draw level. “Now, Giovanni, how should we make our entrance?”
“We should probably enter through the kitchens, not the common room.” We can hear the noise of nightly celebrations.
“Sensible. Lead on.”
I angle across the yard to the kitchen doors, still in awe of Him, of His ability to switch from the profound to the practical. I should be nervous, fearful of what might result from this meeting, but as I knock on the kitchen door I find myself calm. I realise that, once again, He is correct. I knock again.
“Wait a bloody moment!” someone yells from within. A bolt slides back, and the door opens to reveal Second James. “Giovanni!”
“James. I must see Old Charles. This is…”
“I am known to you as Alessandro,” Father cuts in, “and I remember you when you were a babe and a child. Do you remember me?”
James takes a step back. “Please enter,” he stammers. He rings a bell.
Father smiles. There is the sound of tramping feet, and from the hallway spill four or five of the Clan, with Tall William leading. He stares at Father a moment, looks to me, and offers a wry smile. “I suppose we should not be surprised. Senor Alessandro, Giovanni, follow me to a study and I will get Old Charles roused.”
“Abed already? That is not the man I knew.”
Tall William beckons us follow him. “Age and sorrow,” William replies, opening a door to an empty room. “But he will be pleased to see you.” He turns to me, “And I will let Mary know you are here.”
Father walks around the room, letting His hand run along the wall. I watch Him from the table, turning as he completes His circuit. He puffs a breath of air onto His fingers, scattering the dust. “I remember when this was newly-built,” he says. He smiles at me, “You must think I am getting senile.”
The door opens, and Old Charles enters, wrapped in a robe. “I doubt it,” he says striding to his friend, and without waiting enfolds Him in a hug. “You came.”
Father returns the embrace, but while his arms seem to grip with the same fierceness there is a … blankness to his face. “Of course.” He untangles himself. “I grieve with you.”
“My sorrow is tempered now,” Old Charles says and looks at me. There is a disturbance at the door and I see Mary. She steps towards me and grabs my hand in a single movement, and turns to Father.
“Alessandro, have you came to warn me off?” I do my best not to grimace as she squeezes my fingers.
Father looks at her, and then to me. I make a small shake of my head. “No Mary, that is not my intent.” He breathes. “I wish you well.”
Her grip relaxes. Mary smiles in victory. “I am glad to see you in such good health.”
“As you can see Alessandro, my daughter remains a beloved trial.” Old Charles says, and laughs at his own jest. Father smiles.
“So it seems. I think it perhaps best if we let the lovebirds alone. Why don’t we go somewhere private and share a few tales?”
“You always were quick to business my friend, but I agree. We will go to my room – William can bring us up some food and drink.”
“I will see you tomorrow Giovanni,” Father says as he withdraws.
Once he leaves Mary turns to me, “Come, let us to bed.”
Father signs a final piece of paper, and looks up. We are both in common garb. “It is time we were off. Tell me, how do you usually slip out of the place?”
“So far, with Captain Bernhardt’s aid.”
“A good man, but sometimes you must be self-reliant. Tonight I will show you a way that requires no outside assistance, but be careful. Once it becomes known it looses its utility.”
“Another secret tunnel?”
He smirks. “A door to the sewers. Follow me.” He leads me to a closet sunk into a wall at the corner of the Embassy. “Now, if you put your hand here you will find a catch. Go on.”
I do as He directs, and feel the chill of a piece of metal.
“See?” He pulls my hand out and inserts his own, “Now if you pull it will unlock a door.” Nothing happens, and He frowns. “It is stiff. You must be gentle for if this breaks you will not be able to open the door from this side.” His brows furrow, his hand jerks back, and there is a click. “Some oil I think, when I return tonight.” He pushes the side of the closet, and what appeared to be wall swings open. “There are several convenient exit points nearby, and there is a walkway beside the sewer channel you can use if the waters are not running high.” He sniffs the air. “Smells as bad as ever – don’t keep this door open too long else its fragrance might attract attention.”
“Does anyone else know of this?”
“No. I have never told anyone, and I don’t believe the Spanish ever worked this one out. Now, hold that lantern up and let’s away.”
We descend into the darkness, and He closes the door behind us. We walk about one hundred yards or so and reach a small recess. From his belt he produces a set of keys. “I will give you this tomorrow. They unlock most of the gates that guard the sewer entrances. Sometimes during the day you need to arrange to bribe the guards, but at night most entrances are unmanned.”
We emerge onto a deserted street.
I think of Mary. “Will we return tonight?”
“I will, else de Tallon will become suspicious. You may or not as you please. Now, firstly, what name do you go by at the Red Lion?”
“Giovanni.”
He chuckles. “Simple, but effective. Secondly, tell me about this assassination.”
We walk through the streets of Madrid, yet I feel like I am back in His study, answering questions on an assignment. But there is one contrast: He never suggests I should have acted other than I did. The questions He asks are to provide clarification, not to expose a flaw in my reasoning. He listens as I talk of interrogating Bertrand, of canvassing Henri, and of killing Martin and his woman. We walk in silence, our boots tapping on the stone.
At last He speaks. “I worked differently, in my tenure here. Charles was … is a friend, but I kept our affairs quite separate. We were companions, not partners, even if he owed me a debt.”
I swallow. “As to that,” I say, “Mary has formed a liaison with me.”
He pauses. “You do sound displeased.”
“I am not.”
“It is your choice. It may be that you shall have in them something I never did in all my time here.” He draws a deep breath. “I envy you that.”
I blink. “What?” I ask before I can think.
He lifts up his head and stops. The Red Lion is visible at the end of the avenue, and ribald music pollutes the moment. “A home.”
I stop, and Father walks several paces before I realise I have halted. I hurry to catch-up. “Make the most of it,” he says as I draw level. “Now, Giovanni, how should we make our entrance?”
“We should probably enter through the kitchens, not the common room.” We can hear the noise of nightly celebrations.
“Sensible. Lead on.”
I angle across the yard to the kitchen doors, still in awe of Him, of His ability to switch from the profound to the practical. I should be nervous, fearful of what might result from this meeting, but as I knock on the kitchen door I find myself calm. I realise that, once again, He is correct. I knock again.
“Wait a bloody moment!” someone yells from within. A bolt slides back, and the door opens to reveal Second James. “Giovanni!”
“James. I must see Old Charles. This is…”
“I am known to you as Alessandro,” Father cuts in, “and I remember you when you were a babe and a child. Do you remember me?”
James takes a step back. “Please enter,” he stammers. He rings a bell.
Father smiles. There is the sound of tramping feet, and from the hallway spill four or five of the Clan, with Tall William leading. He stares at Father a moment, looks to me, and offers a wry smile. “I suppose we should not be surprised. Senor Alessandro, Giovanni, follow me to a study and I will get Old Charles roused.”
“Abed already? That is not the man I knew.”
Tall William beckons us follow him. “Age and sorrow,” William replies, opening a door to an empty room. “But he will be pleased to see you.” He turns to me, “And I will let Mary know you are here.”
Father walks around the room, letting His hand run along the wall. I watch Him from the table, turning as he completes His circuit. He puffs a breath of air onto His fingers, scattering the dust. “I remember when this was newly-built,” he says. He smiles at me, “You must think I am getting senile.”
The door opens, and Old Charles enters, wrapped in a robe. “I doubt it,” he says striding to his friend, and without waiting enfolds Him in a hug. “You came.”
Father returns the embrace, but while his arms seem to grip with the same fierceness there is a … blankness to his face. “Of course.” He untangles himself. “I grieve with you.”
“My sorrow is tempered now,” Old Charles says and looks at me. There is a disturbance at the door and I see Mary. She steps towards me and grabs my hand in a single movement, and turns to Father.
“Alessandro, have you came to warn me off?” I do my best not to grimace as she squeezes my fingers.
Father looks at her, and then to me. I make a small shake of my head. “No Mary, that is not my intent.” He breathes. “I wish you well.”
Her grip relaxes. Mary smiles in victory. “I am glad to see you in such good health.”
“As you can see Alessandro, my daughter remains a beloved trial.” Old Charles says, and laughs at his own jest. Father smiles.
“So it seems. I think it perhaps best if we let the lovebirds alone. Why don’t we go somewhere private and share a few tales?”
“You always were quick to business my friend, but I agree. We will go to my room – William can bring us up some food and drink.”
“I will see you tomorrow Giovanni,” Father says as he withdraws.
Once he leaves Mary turns to me, “Come, let us to bed.”
stnylan said:
Quick, decisive, awesome. Also kept me right in the time-period.
I had to do a little re-reading to remind myself of some of the characters...but I'm hoping you can continue this on a more regular basis.
Thanks!
TheExecuter
What's this ? A surprise chapter eh ? XD Lovely one at that ! You're always quick witted and fast paced with your dialogue , Lewis !
Great to see another update, stnylan! And I enjoyed the interplay between father and son, especially when the arrived at the Red Lion. As I hear the father discuss his previous time there, I begin to wonder what adventures he got up to and what history he may have had with this family.
Brilliant, as always, Lewis!
I laughed when the secret door didn't yield at first. The master manipulator of men is dismayed when he finds that he cannot manipulate the physical world with the same degree of certainty! Nevertheless, he recovered, and covered, quickly.
Interesting how Jeanovanni speaks so differently with his father, even about Mary! Wow. Liaison!
But, yet, his Father surprises him (and us) by admitting that he wishes something had been other than he had made it. He admits to a weakness which, perhaps, he always acknowledged. He seems awfully quick with his response, as if this is something he's thought about and regretted.
Great work! Glad to see you back at it, as myself and others had encouraged!
Rensslaer
I laughed when the secret door didn't yield at first. The master manipulator of men is dismayed when he finds that he cannot manipulate the physical world with the same degree of certainty!
Nevertheless, he recovered, and covered, quickly.Interesting how Jeanovanni speaks so differently with his father, even about Mary! Wow. Liaison!
But, yet, his Father surprises him (and us) by admitting that he wishes something had been other than he had made it. He admits to a weakness which, perhaps, he always acknowledged. He seems awfully quick with his response, as if this is something he's thought about and regretted.
Great work! Glad to see you back at it, as myself and others had encouraged!
Rensslaer
I had not previously noticed the capitalization of pronouns in regard to Alessandro from Jeanovanni.
stnylan: ...“Does anyone else know of this?”
hmmm. the same sewer entrance used at bottom of post three ? ?
stnylan: ...He chuckles. “Simple, but effective. Secondly, tell me about this assassination.”
awesome ! ! this is discussed in extreme privacy ! !
stnylan: ...I blink. “What?” I ask before I can think.
amazing, 'what' came to my mind before i read that line ! ! :wacko:
stnylan: ...“James. I must see Old Charles. This is…” ..“I am known to you as Alessandro,” ..James takes a step back. “Please enter,” he stammers. He rings a bell.
methinks that Alessandro is well remembered ! !
stnylan: ...“My sorrow is tempered now,” Old Charles says and looks at me.
i can understand that the return of a very good and long time friend could lessen the sorrow of a lost loved one ! !
stnylan: ...Once he leaves Mary turns to me, “Come, let us to bed.”
direct she is ! !
magnificent update ! !
it read as smooth as if there had been no break at all ! ! thanks ! !
hmmm. the same sewer entrance used at bottom of post three ? ?
stnylan: ...He chuckles. “Simple, but effective. Secondly, tell me about this assassination.”
awesome ! ! this is discussed in extreme privacy ! !
stnylan: ...I blink. “What?” I ask before I can think.
amazing, 'what' came to my mind before i read that line ! ! :wacko:
stnylan: ...“James. I must see Old Charles. This is…” ..“I am known to you as Alessandro,” ..James takes a step back. “Please enter,” he stammers. He rings a bell.
methinks that Alessandro is well remembered ! !
stnylan: ...“My sorrow is tempered now,” Old Charles says and looks at me.
i can understand that the return of a very good and long time friend could lessen the sorrow of a lost loved one ! !
stnylan: ...Once he leaves Mary turns to me, “Come, let us to bed.”
direct she is ! !
magnificent update ! !
it read as smooth as if there had been no break at all ! ! thanks ! !
It has been very long. I do have an update though. First, reply to commentary.
TheExecuter Alas, no more regular updates. But it was good (and is good) to have been able to write a little, at last.
canonized And another nice surprise I hope to come!
coz1 Well, obviously there is a fair bit of history between Father and Old Charles. Though I imagine his dealings were probably a little less direct than his son's.
Rensslaer There always has to be something that does not quite work correctly. I never believe a sci-fi novel where there are no problems with the computers, for instance!
As for Jean's father, I am aware that I had built up, through Jean's eyes, a view of his father that was perhaps a little too cardboard. I wished to give him a little something to make him more than just a 'master manipulator' as you accurately name him. I hope I have succeeded.
J. Passepartout It is a subtle thing - witnessed by the occassions when I have forgotten to capitalise pronouns where I should have done.
GhostWriter It is indeed the sewer entrance referred to at the end of post three. It is one scene I had planned almost from the beginning.
As for Mary - she's been around and doesn't see any need to beat around the bush!
And with that, time to do a final edit.
TheExecuter Alas, no more regular updates. But it was good (and is good) to have been able to write a little, at last.
canonized And another nice surprise I hope to come!
coz1 Well, obviously there is a fair bit of history between Father and Old Charles. Though I imagine his dealings were probably a little less direct than his son's.
Rensslaer There always has to be something that does not quite work correctly. I never believe a sci-fi novel where there are no problems with the computers, for instance!
As for Jean's father, I am aware that I had built up, through Jean's eyes, a view of his father that was perhaps a little too cardboard. I wished to give him a little something to make him more than just a 'master manipulator' as you accurately name him. I hope I have succeeded.
J. Passepartout It is a subtle thing - witnessed by the occassions when I have forgotten to capitalise pronouns where I should have done.
GhostWriter It is indeed the sewer entrance referred to at the end of post three. It is one scene I had planned almost from the beginning.
As for Mary - she's been around and doesn't see any need to beat around the bush!
And with that, time to do a final edit.
The Present
I shift on the bench, and wait. A newspaper lies on the table, unread. They have placed a bowl of soup in front of me. I eat mechanically, without real pleasure or opposition. I am well enough, I think, for what is about to come. Tall William is at the door.
The Red Lion has an empty feel to it – Red Charles has evacuated most of the family, hoping to preserve them if matters go ill. I feel no guilt at putting them all in danger. It would have been safer, and easier, to slip away into retirement and obscurity, but I find that is a path I cannot walk … yet.
I push the bowl away. Tall William calls for someone. “How long do you suppose it will take?” he asks. A younger member of the Clan arrives and tidies the plates.
I shrug. “He might not respond today. It will depend on when he can slip out of court, but I count it a good sign he did not appear immediately with armed guard.”
We wait.
At length Williams says, “Not long after Mary’s death you had that riding accident. Did you try to kill yourself?”
“Yes.”
We wait.
From the corridor comes the sound of running feet. Someone unseen talks to William, who turns to me and says, “He is here. Charles is bringing him up. Good fortune.” He leaves.
I hear heavier footfalls, and Red Charles enters, leading Carlos, who is dressed like some common labourer. Seeing me he stalls as his eyes take in my changed state.
I speak first. “You will forgive me if I do not get up – I am not yet really strong enough.”
“Jean, what has happened to you?” Carlos exclaims, stepping closer. He looks at Charles. “And how came you here?”
“Not Jean,” I say, holding his eyes. “Not Jean,” I repeat. I draw out the pause as long as I dare. “Giovanni.”
Astonishment fills his features. “You can’t be serious,” he begins.
“Ask Charles,” I say.
Carlos turns to Charles, who nods.
I smile. “I am afraid I have lived something of a double life, my friend. Will you sit?”
“I think I should,” Carlos says, and does so. He shakes his head. “I always admired you Jean – alright, Giovanni – but to think that you are also the most feared assassin in Madrid. I should have you arrested. For that matter,” he turns to Charles, “I should have you arrested too.”
Charles snorts, but I speak before he can “Carlos, you have never had a habit for making empty threats. There is no need for you to start now. Charles has never broken his agreement with you.”
“So, you think you can teach me my craft?”
I chuckle. “I but remind you of your truer nature. Your bluster is a shield you do not need, for you are still my friend. Everything else is a consequence of our business, and irrelevant.”
Carlos stays silent for over a minute. “I am glad to see you. I was worried.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, you have clearly called me here for a purpose. What is it?” I smile, Carlos is not long distracted.
“The French have known this war would eventually come, and have been preparing for it. Until you can seize the King and force a treaty, France will always lie unsteady under a Spanish hand. So they have taken measures to ensure you will fail to find him, no matter how frenetic and frantic your search.”
“I am not surprised they would take measures, but it sounds too subtle to be Louis’ handiwork.”
I laugh. “Well of course it is. My father, with others, concocted this particular scheme.”
“I should have guessed. And you are prepared to tell me of his hiding place?” I nod. He continues softly, “I would never have taken you to be a traitor Jean.”
“I told you, I no longer acknowledge that name. I have one further use for Jean de Fontenay, and then I – and you – will be well rid of him. That name will be reviled for worse things than base treachery by the time I am finished.”
From the side I see Red Charles’ eyes flare. Carlos takes no notice, but leans forward and puts his elbows on the table. “You had best tell me exactly what you intend.”
I cannot prevent a feral grin. “To practice my craft one last time. I will go to King Louis’ hiding place and announce myself – as de Fontenay – explaining how I barely managed to avoid a Spanish assassination. My wounds are real enough to be convincing. And then, when I have a chance, I will kill Louis Bourbon. Afterward a Spanish army, using the directions I will give them, will arrive. If the King is dead the French will likely surrender, and if he is not your troops should be able to take the place without much trouble.”
“Giovanni, you are mad!” Red Charles says, his voice low but deepened by something akin to anger. “This is a suicide’s game. I have not patched you up to see you go off and die.”
“You have done so in the past, after other wounds. You never sought to prevent me from undertaking another murder.”
“That’s because we intended you to come back alive, not waste yourself on some fool’s errand. Just tell the man where he can find Louis, and then be rid of your past. You need not do this.”
I shake my head. “I must my friend. Think back. It is thirty years since I killed Martin de Faro because he orchestrated the death of Younger Charles. King Louis’s actions will bring destruction to the land I love, to France, and I will not leave her un-avenged.” I return my gaze to Carlos, who has watched Red Charles and I without expression. “There you have it. There is my offer. Do you agree?”
A moment passes, and he says, “I had hoped to make you a regent of France, after we had done what we need to do.”
I shake my head. “I would not accept. My brother would be a more appropriate choice, he has lived his life at Versailles after all. If you are feeling especially brave you might pick my sister Marianne. Or even Pierre. Do warn your generals not to underestimate him.”
“I did not think you liked him.”
“I don’t. My father thought highly of him, though, and so should you. He is Marshall of France for reasons other than favouritism.”
“Mmmm. Before I agree to your half-baked plan, however, I have one question.”
“Even now?”
“Even now. Why did you murder Bertrand?”
“I murdered no man, but performed an execution long delayed. If he had not sent back those false reports you gave him, I would have prevent Louis’ ambitions regarding the Dakota.”
“But that is hardly fair. He was my tool true, but only because you gave him to me. If anyone is responsible for his current treason, you are.”
I shake my head. “He had a choice, thirty years ago. He could have chosen loyalty then, but he clung to life and to treachery.” I shrug. “And his death gives the story I will present to Louis added … meat.” I savour the word.
Carlos purses his lips as if he is about to speak, but does not. A moment passes, and he turns to Red Charles. “I presume you would prefer it if I could keep Giovanni alive?”
Charles snorts. “I would bargain with you my lord, but you are promising something you cannot give."
I cough. They both turn to me. “I will live or I will die. If I live, all is well. If I die,” I shrug my shoulders, “I am content.”
I look at them both. One is a tall man, still strong, with red hair faded and fading into grey and a beard covering his chin. His voice is rich with the accent of the gutter and the sewer, whatever language he speaks. There is always a roughness about him, no matter the venue, but he is jovial and friendly, and quite unlike the gruff giant he, at first, appears. His hands are practised at dirty work. The other is smaller, neater, tidier, and altogether more urbane. He is comfortable in courts but not averse to plumbing murkier deeps, and he has killed and caused his share of death, but mostly at a distance, keeping his own hands clean. He is a lover of his country and has a fierce hatred of France. Both are my friends, men whom I would die for, and whom I have killed for.
They are so different, but to my eyes they look alike, their faces captured with the same expression. They look like men who have just heard that a friend has died, but that they do not quite believe the news. As if this supposed friend was a man they had traded words with just an hour or two ago, but to whom some tragedy has since befallen. They look so sad I find myself laughing.
“Do not weep!” I say with a smile, “who knows, I may even survive!” And more amazing still, I see a tear grow in Carlos’ eye, and run down the side of his cheek. He looks down at his hands, those clever hands, and nods. His voice cracks, “I agree.”
Charles has walked around the table and enfolds me in a bear-hug. He places his mouth next to my ear, and whispers so that only he and I can hear, “Live! But if you die, tell my mother that we brought you back before the end.” He too is crying, but I am filled with good cheer.
For I have an appointment with King Louis.
Game Notes
Memory
Bavaria becomes a vassal of Spain
The Past
Nobles Ally with Foreign Power (Stability -2)
The Present
France declares war on the Dakota
Spain declares war on France
I shift on the bench, and wait. A newspaper lies on the table, unread. They have placed a bowl of soup in front of me. I eat mechanically, without real pleasure or opposition. I am well enough, I think, for what is about to come. Tall William is at the door.
The Red Lion has an empty feel to it – Red Charles has evacuated most of the family, hoping to preserve them if matters go ill. I feel no guilt at putting them all in danger. It would have been safer, and easier, to slip away into retirement and obscurity, but I find that is a path I cannot walk … yet.
I push the bowl away. Tall William calls for someone. “How long do you suppose it will take?” he asks. A younger member of the Clan arrives and tidies the plates.
I shrug. “He might not respond today. It will depend on when he can slip out of court, but I count it a good sign he did not appear immediately with armed guard.”
We wait.
At length Williams says, “Not long after Mary’s death you had that riding accident. Did you try to kill yourself?”
“Yes.”
We wait.
From the corridor comes the sound of running feet. Someone unseen talks to William, who turns to me and says, “He is here. Charles is bringing him up. Good fortune.” He leaves.
I hear heavier footfalls, and Red Charles enters, leading Carlos, who is dressed like some common labourer. Seeing me he stalls as his eyes take in my changed state.
I speak first. “You will forgive me if I do not get up – I am not yet really strong enough.”
“Jean, what has happened to you?” Carlos exclaims, stepping closer. He looks at Charles. “And how came you here?”
“Not Jean,” I say, holding his eyes. “Not Jean,” I repeat. I draw out the pause as long as I dare. “Giovanni.”
Astonishment fills his features. “You can’t be serious,” he begins.
“Ask Charles,” I say.
Carlos turns to Charles, who nods.
I smile. “I am afraid I have lived something of a double life, my friend. Will you sit?”
“I think I should,” Carlos says, and does so. He shakes his head. “I always admired you Jean – alright, Giovanni – but to think that you are also the most feared assassin in Madrid. I should have you arrested. For that matter,” he turns to Charles, “I should have you arrested too.”
Charles snorts, but I speak before he can “Carlos, you have never had a habit for making empty threats. There is no need for you to start now. Charles has never broken his agreement with you.”
“So, you think you can teach me my craft?”
I chuckle. “I but remind you of your truer nature. Your bluster is a shield you do not need, for you are still my friend. Everything else is a consequence of our business, and irrelevant.”
Carlos stays silent for over a minute. “I am glad to see you. I was worried.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, you have clearly called me here for a purpose. What is it?” I smile, Carlos is not long distracted.
“The French have known this war would eventually come, and have been preparing for it. Until you can seize the King and force a treaty, France will always lie unsteady under a Spanish hand. So they have taken measures to ensure you will fail to find him, no matter how frenetic and frantic your search.”
“I am not surprised they would take measures, but it sounds too subtle to be Louis’ handiwork.”
I laugh. “Well of course it is. My father, with others, concocted this particular scheme.”
“I should have guessed. And you are prepared to tell me of his hiding place?” I nod. He continues softly, “I would never have taken you to be a traitor Jean.”
“I told you, I no longer acknowledge that name. I have one further use for Jean de Fontenay, and then I – and you – will be well rid of him. That name will be reviled for worse things than base treachery by the time I am finished.”
From the side I see Red Charles’ eyes flare. Carlos takes no notice, but leans forward and puts his elbows on the table. “You had best tell me exactly what you intend.”
I cannot prevent a feral grin. “To practice my craft one last time. I will go to King Louis’ hiding place and announce myself – as de Fontenay – explaining how I barely managed to avoid a Spanish assassination. My wounds are real enough to be convincing. And then, when I have a chance, I will kill Louis Bourbon. Afterward a Spanish army, using the directions I will give them, will arrive. If the King is dead the French will likely surrender, and if he is not your troops should be able to take the place without much trouble.”
“Giovanni, you are mad!” Red Charles says, his voice low but deepened by something akin to anger. “This is a suicide’s game. I have not patched you up to see you go off and die.”
“You have done so in the past, after other wounds. You never sought to prevent me from undertaking another murder.”
“That’s because we intended you to come back alive, not waste yourself on some fool’s errand. Just tell the man where he can find Louis, and then be rid of your past. You need not do this.”
I shake my head. “I must my friend. Think back. It is thirty years since I killed Martin de Faro because he orchestrated the death of Younger Charles. King Louis’s actions will bring destruction to the land I love, to France, and I will not leave her un-avenged.” I return my gaze to Carlos, who has watched Red Charles and I without expression. “There you have it. There is my offer. Do you agree?”
A moment passes, and he says, “I had hoped to make you a regent of France, after we had done what we need to do.”
I shake my head. “I would not accept. My brother would be a more appropriate choice, he has lived his life at Versailles after all. If you are feeling especially brave you might pick my sister Marianne. Or even Pierre. Do warn your generals not to underestimate him.”
“I did not think you liked him.”
“I don’t. My father thought highly of him, though, and so should you. He is Marshall of France for reasons other than favouritism.”
“Mmmm. Before I agree to your half-baked plan, however, I have one question.”
“Even now?”
“Even now. Why did you murder Bertrand?”
“I murdered no man, but performed an execution long delayed. If he had not sent back those false reports you gave him, I would have prevent Louis’ ambitions regarding the Dakota.”
“But that is hardly fair. He was my tool true, but only because you gave him to me. If anyone is responsible for his current treason, you are.”
I shake my head. “He had a choice, thirty years ago. He could have chosen loyalty then, but he clung to life and to treachery.” I shrug. “And his death gives the story I will present to Louis added … meat.” I savour the word.
Carlos purses his lips as if he is about to speak, but does not. A moment passes, and he turns to Red Charles. “I presume you would prefer it if I could keep Giovanni alive?”
Charles snorts. “I would bargain with you my lord, but you are promising something you cannot give."
I cough. They both turn to me. “I will live or I will die. If I live, all is well. If I die,” I shrug my shoulders, “I am content.”
I look at them both. One is a tall man, still strong, with red hair faded and fading into grey and a beard covering his chin. His voice is rich with the accent of the gutter and the sewer, whatever language he speaks. There is always a roughness about him, no matter the venue, but he is jovial and friendly, and quite unlike the gruff giant he, at first, appears. His hands are practised at dirty work. The other is smaller, neater, tidier, and altogether more urbane. He is comfortable in courts but not averse to plumbing murkier deeps, and he has killed and caused his share of death, but mostly at a distance, keeping his own hands clean. He is a lover of his country and has a fierce hatred of France. Both are my friends, men whom I would die for, and whom I have killed for.
They are so different, but to my eyes they look alike, their faces captured with the same expression. They look like men who have just heard that a friend has died, but that they do not quite believe the news. As if this supposed friend was a man they had traded words with just an hour or two ago, but to whom some tragedy has since befallen. They look so sad I find myself laughing.
“Do not weep!” I say with a smile, “who knows, I may even survive!” And more amazing still, I see a tear grow in Carlos’ eye, and run down the side of his cheek. He looks down at his hands, those clever hands, and nods. His voice cracks, “I agree.”
Charles has walked around the table and enfolds me in a bear-hug. He places his mouth next to my ear, and whispers so that only he and I can hear, “Live! But if you die, tell my mother that we brought you back before the end.” He too is crying, but I am filled with good cheer.
For I have an appointment with King Louis.
FINIS
Game Notes
Memory
Bavaria becomes a vassal of Spain
The Past
Nobles Ally with Foreign Power (Stability -2)
The Present
France declares war on the Dakota
Spain declares war on France
And it is over...
I have a feeling there is much left unsaid....much that may have been a great story, but will forever be buried in the past. I wish Giovanni 'Godspeed' on his chosen path...and wish the author better fortune in the future.
Thanks!
TheExecuter
I have a feeling there is much left unsaid....much that may have been a great story, but will forever be buried in the past. I wish Giovanni 'Godspeed' on his chosen path...and wish the author better fortune in the future.
Thanks!
TheExecuter
An excellent drama , Lewis and very glad to see you back at the pen again . I really do hope that we see some more wonderful stories in the weeks to come on other projects !
So, it is the end? Finally we have a good full look at what has happenned before, with the greatest assassin of them all.
Good work, and I also hope you can start work on a new piece.
Good work, and I also hope you can start work on a new piece.
So it ends. A fitting tone to that finish - Jean/Giovanni will go off to his death, both sides of his persona perhaps perishing in the final attempt. It's as though he feels he deserves the fate.
Your weaving of past and present time was difficult but handled well. While I admit it was at times difficult to follow from period to period, that is more to do with the nature of reading on these forums. Were I to read through from the start, I'd imagine I'd see a much more fluid back and forth.
You've tied it all together masterfully and recall even the fresh sprig that birthed this opus in the finale. Nicely done. And congrats on completion! Thanks for the great read, stnylan.
Your weaving of past and present time was difficult but handled well. While I admit it was at times difficult to follow from period to period, that is more to do with the nature of reading on these forums. Were I to read through from the start, I'd imagine I'd see a much more fluid back and forth.
You've tied it all together masterfully and recall even the fresh sprig that birthed this opus in the finale. Nicely done.
And congrats on completion! Thanks for the great read, stnylan.
A magnificent work, Lewis!
Wow.
It's hard to believe it is over! It seems abrupt, but that may be because I've lost some of the thread of the story to time. I certainly was not expecting an end so soon, but it feels complete.
I almost laughed when I read "the Dakota!" This is, yes, the first you've hinted that the whole thing hung on the Dakota? How bizarre and ironic.
I will definitely re-read this from the beginning, to remember all the wonderful twists and turns! I'm sure it will seem even more of a masterpiece, read as a whole, and not in fits and starts.
As you know, I've been very limited in time, but this is one of the few works I've followed through every update for sure. Hung on every word, as a matter of fact!
Your writing talents deserve another outlet! I do hope you will consider a new story one of these days soon.
And I marvel at what you've done, starting from a simple Guess the Author entry! What a tapestry you've woven from that centerpiece!
Great work, Lewis!
Rensslaer
Wow.
It's hard to believe it is over! It seems abrupt, but that may be because I've lost some of the thread of the story to time. I certainly was not expecting an end so soon, but it feels complete.
I almost laughed when I read "the Dakota!" This is, yes, the first you've hinted that the whole thing hung on the Dakota? How bizarre and ironic.
I will definitely re-read this from the beginning, to remember all the wonderful twists and turns! I'm sure it will seem even more of a masterpiece, read as a whole, and not in fits and starts.
As you know, I've been very limited in time, but this is one of the few works I've followed through every update for sure. Hung on every word, as a matter of fact!
Your writing talents deserve another outlet! I do hope you will consider a new story one of these days soon.
And I marvel at what you've done, starting from a simple Guess the Author entry! What a tapestry you've woven from that centerpiece!
Great work, Lewis!
Rensslaer
This is a beautiful work, and I'm saddened to see it end, but a big congradulatory pat-on-the-back for an outstanding AAR.
I'll give more detailed feedback in a couple of days, I just wanted to ask if there were any specific questions that people would like answers to?
TheExecuter There is indeed much unsaid. Ultimately just because I could go on, I decided I didn't have to given the story I was telling. And thank you.
canonized So do I my friend, so do I.
J. Passepartout With any luck. In the spiel that follows I set out what happened in the game in some more detail too.
coz1 Thank you indeed. It is good to finally have a completed AAR!
Rensslaer Perhaps if you do re-read it you can tell me how well it all holds together given the considerable gaps in real-time that occurred between various portions of it.
demokratickid Thank you very much indeed.
Well, I suppose it is now time to sum up this AAR.
In Memory of France started, as some may remember, as a post in Guess the Author. The subject for that month was a declaration of war. The first post of this AAR was my entry (post #259 - Author #4). I based the situation on an EU2 game I was playing. In the commentary that followed, a number of people expressed an interest in knowing more of the story behind that piece. On reflection so did I, and thus this AAR was born.
The Game
As I stated in my introduction this AAR was based on a game of EU2 played as Castille/Spain. In this game I quite unexpectedly ended up with substantial French lands. Early on (as Castille) I was allied with Aragon, who declared war on England. The upshot of this war was that I took Gascony. Then, first as Castille and later Spain I fought a number of defensive wars with France as she tried to retake her cores. After each war I took a further slice of French territory, so that by the late 16th century France was severely reduced. This is what is behind 'Spanish-administered' France as referenced a few times in the AAR.
As to why a Bavarian like Captain Bernhardt is part of the French army - in its reduced state France fought a war with Bavaria, which force-vassalised France. At the end of the war France was left with no army, but a force of about 4000 Bavarian troops remained in Paris for the next eighty or so years. Hence my inspiration for Bernhardt and his ilk. I later diplovassalised Bavaria (referenced in 'Memory' sections) and eventually diploannexed that before the war of 'The Present'. 'The Past' is a very elaborate telling of a single random event, nothing more. I choose the Hapsburg option regarding the inheritance.
As for the declaration of war - France had ended up colonising northern Canada. As Spain I was setting colonies up the Mississippi valley. France bordered the Dakota, whom I wanted to annex myself. Knowing the AI likes to declare war on pagans I guaranteed their indepedence. France did make the war declaration, and mine followed soon after. The result of the war was force-vassalisation. However, France did inflict one notable defeat on me outside Paris that delayed a successful conclusion to the war by several months.
The story
I also wrote In Memory of France with the very clear aim that it was to be something of a workshop - principally to allow me to explore the use of the present tense, which I was then experimenting with, but also other aspects of writing more generally. Initially I intended just to tell the story of 'The Present' - but very early one I decided I wanted to also experiment with writing in two timelines, hence the plot of the 'The Past' was born. The basic plots of both 'The Past' and 'The Present' have been fairly solid since then - though some the detail I essentially made up as I went along. The greatest plot alteration I otherwise made was concerning the role of Mary, whom initially was to play a far more passive role. But I get ahead of myself. Much further into the tale I decided to add the 'Memory' sections as a further timeline to throw a particular light on Jean's father and Jean's childhood.
Originally I had planned for there to be several stories set in 'The Past' in particularly important moments of Jean's life. However, during my own absences in the last ten months or so (during which I thought about In Memory of France most days, even if I did no writing) it slowly dawned on me that these extra bits I intended were not central to the story I was telling. Don't get me wrong, I am quite sure they would be excellent stories in their own right, but ultimately un-necessary. Given how I was already approaching the end of the first 'The Past' sequence, and also reaching the end of this stage of 'The Present' I realised I was approaching a natural and effective stopping place. Thus I decided to bring it to a close as I have done.
The story was, of course, focused almost entirely on Jean. In my view the central theme is one of transformation - in the past Jean transforms from a French noble and minor diplomat into Jeanovanni as some of have styled him. A man with a double life. 'The Present' sees him transform into something else again.
This is not the whole story of course. I wrote with some other supporting themes in mind, which may or may not have come across. As a wise man once said, the moment a writer publishes a work he, in a sense, loses control over it.
The only other major change I made was regarding the role of Mary. I originally envisaged her being much more passive than she turned out to be. I was inspired to try something different after reading 'Cyteen' by C J Cherryh. The end result of that leap of faith is the single update of which I am personally most proud: this page post number 557.
Now that In Memory of France is complete I have no idea what to do next. It may be something along the lines of All Alone in the Night, or it might be something completely different. Time will tell.
I started this AAR in 2005, about two and half years ago. Over that time it has been supported by some of the very best commentators in the forum. It has been a pleasure and a privilege to have such wonderful readers. Without your encouragement and support, either expressed in this thread or by some other medium, this would likely have died along time ago.
Finally I want to again pay homage to you all for your support, prayers, and thoughts for me over this last year. These fora and the community we have here have been a pillar of support when I have needed it most. My thanks to you all, from the bottom of my heart.
canonized So do I my friend, so do I.
J. Passepartout With any luck. In the spiel that follows I set out what happened in the game in some more detail too.
coz1 Thank you indeed. It is good to finally have a completed AAR!
Rensslaer Perhaps if you do re-read it you can tell me how well it all holds together given the considerable gaps in real-time that occurred between various portions of it.
demokratickid Thank you very much indeed.
Well, I suppose it is now time to sum up this AAR.
In Memory of France started, as some may remember, as a post in Guess the Author. The subject for that month was a declaration of war. The first post of this AAR was my entry (post #259 - Author #4). I based the situation on an EU2 game I was playing. In the commentary that followed, a number of people expressed an interest in knowing more of the story behind that piece. On reflection so did I, and thus this AAR was born.
The Game
As I stated in my introduction this AAR was based on a game of EU2 played as Castille/Spain. In this game I quite unexpectedly ended up with substantial French lands. Early on (as Castille) I was allied with Aragon, who declared war on England. The upshot of this war was that I took Gascony. Then, first as Castille and later Spain I fought a number of defensive wars with France as she tried to retake her cores. After each war I took a further slice of French territory, so that by the late 16th century France was severely reduced. This is what is behind 'Spanish-administered' France as referenced a few times in the AAR.
As to why a Bavarian like Captain Bernhardt is part of the French army - in its reduced state France fought a war with Bavaria, which force-vassalised France. At the end of the war France was left with no army, but a force of about 4000 Bavarian troops remained in Paris for the next eighty or so years. Hence my inspiration for Bernhardt and his ilk. I later diplovassalised Bavaria (referenced in 'Memory' sections) and eventually diploannexed that before the war of 'The Present'. 'The Past' is a very elaborate telling of a single random event, nothing more. I choose the Hapsburg option regarding the inheritance.
As for the declaration of war - France had ended up colonising northern Canada. As Spain I was setting colonies up the Mississippi valley. France bordered the Dakota, whom I wanted to annex myself. Knowing the AI likes to declare war on pagans I guaranteed their indepedence. France did make the war declaration, and mine followed soon after. The result of the war was force-vassalisation. However, France did inflict one notable defeat on me outside Paris that delayed a successful conclusion to the war by several months.
The story
I also wrote In Memory of France with the very clear aim that it was to be something of a workshop - principally to allow me to explore the use of the present tense, which I was then experimenting with, but also other aspects of writing more generally. Initially I intended just to tell the story of 'The Present' - but very early one I decided I wanted to also experiment with writing in two timelines, hence the plot of the 'The Past' was born. The basic plots of both 'The Past' and 'The Present' have been fairly solid since then - though some the detail I essentially made up as I went along. The greatest plot alteration I otherwise made was concerning the role of Mary, whom initially was to play a far more passive role. But I get ahead of myself. Much further into the tale I decided to add the 'Memory' sections as a further timeline to throw a particular light on Jean's father and Jean's childhood.
Originally I had planned for there to be several stories set in 'The Past' in particularly important moments of Jean's life. However, during my own absences in the last ten months or so (during which I thought about In Memory of France most days, even if I did no writing) it slowly dawned on me that these extra bits I intended were not central to the story I was telling. Don't get me wrong, I am quite sure they would be excellent stories in their own right, but ultimately un-necessary. Given how I was already approaching the end of the first 'The Past' sequence, and also reaching the end of this stage of 'The Present' I realised I was approaching a natural and effective stopping place. Thus I decided to bring it to a close as I have done.
The story was, of course, focused almost entirely on Jean. In my view the central theme is one of transformation - in the past Jean transforms from a French noble and minor diplomat into Jeanovanni as some of have styled him. A man with a double life. 'The Present' sees him transform into something else again.
This is not the whole story of course. I wrote with some other supporting themes in mind, which may or may not have come across. As a wise man once said, the moment a writer publishes a work he, in a sense, loses control over it.
The only other major change I made was regarding the role of Mary. I originally envisaged her being much more passive than she turned out to be. I was inspired to try something different after reading 'Cyteen' by C J Cherryh. The end result of that leap of faith is the single update of which I am personally most proud: this page post number 557.
Now that In Memory of France is complete I have no idea what to do next. It may be something along the lines of All Alone in the Night, or it might be something completely different. Time will tell.
I started this AAR in 2005, about two and half years ago. Over that time it has been supported by some of the very best commentators in the forum. It has been a pleasure and a privilege to have such wonderful readers. Without your encouragement and support, either expressed in this thread or by some other medium, this would likely have died along time ago.
Finally I want to again pay homage to you all for your support, prayers, and thoughts for me over this last year. These fora and the community we have here have been a pillar of support when I have needed it most. My thanks to you all, from the bottom of my heart.