Her expression grew remote and lonely, “Do you think you will?” When he started to protest, she raised her hand to silence him. “Perverse creature that I am, nothing would please me more than for you to prove me wrong. Who can say—I might forget every jot of good sense I possess and permit you to convince me next year or the year after.”
“Do it come morning,” Charles urged her. “It isn’t as flamboyant as bathing in the center of Roma together, but it would attract some attention.”
She pulled away from him. “Mazarin would not be pleased. He does not want me to return to France and it is not likely that he will post you to Roma,” she said, forcing herself to be rigorously pragmatic as she had striven to be in the past. “If, when you return, Mazarin agrees, then let us talk of this again, assuming it is still your desire.”
Charles glared at her baffled. “What do you mean to tell me? I will not alter, Olivia, not now and not at the end of my life.” He got out of bed as he heard Niklos give a discreet rap on the door. “What will it take to convince you?”
She was spared having to answer by Niklos’ return, heavy cotton chamber robes in his hands. As she took the one held out to her, she said to Charles, “If my loving you is not enough, then nothing else will be enough, either.”
If Niklos was aware of the tension between Olivia and Charles, he carefully avoided showing it. He bowed to the air in the center of the room. “Supper is being laid in the small reception room; the bath will be ready in an hour.”
Charles paid no attention to Niklos. His whole being was fixed on Olivia. “Because the blood is the bond?” he said as he drew on the robe. “And that it is enough to bind us from year to year when we cannot be together? Is that what you want me to believe?”
She shook her head as she held out her hand to him. “No, dearest, my most treasured Charles, not because blood is the bond; because life is.”
Text of a letter from King Louis XIV of France to Paul de Batz-Castelmore.
Louis by the Grace of God King of France and Navarre, to Our dear Gascon noble, Paul de Batz-Castelmore, in regard to your most gallant and well-beloved brother, Captain-Lieutenant Charles de Batz-Castelmore Seigneur d’Artagnan of the First Company of Our Musqueteers, the Grand Musqueteers.
It is with the most profound regret and inestimable sadness that We take pen to inform you of the heroic demise of Our said Captain-Lieutenant Charles de Batz-Castelmore d’Artagnan on the 25th day of June in this year of 1673, during the battle for Maestricht in the Low Countries. As Captain-Lieutenant of the Grand Musqueteers, Our well-beloved d’Artagnan distinguished himself by rallying Our forces in the very heat of battle, and, taking his men, fighting mounted and upon grey horses, led them into the very heart of the fray.
We mourn with many others to learn that the First Company took heavy casualties while turning the tide of the battle: of the Grand Musqueteers, fifty were wounded and eighty were killed, truly calamitous losses. In fact, so great was the chaos that reigned, it was not until the roll of the First was called that any realized that Our esteemed Captain-Lieutenant had not returned with his men. Under the leadership of the senior First Company sergeant, Monsieur de Saint-Leger, a search for Our Captain-Lieutenant was mounted at once.
We are distressed to tell you that your beloved brother, Our esteemed Captain-Lieutenant, was found at the head of his men, his throat shot away so that they feared his head was severed from his body. In returning his body to the lines of Our troops, four men perished.
For the records of the family de Batz-Castelmore, We have decided to impart to you a few impressions We have gathered over the years, from the time Our most admirable Captain-Lieutenant was a courier in the service of Mazarin until his advancement to the well-earned and illustrious post he held on Our behalf. We are minded to add here that We have written separately to Carlotte-Anne de Chanlency on behalf of Our beloved d’Artagnan’s sons, so that in future years, they, too, will know of the exploits of their father. We are saddened that the boys have not known their father well because of the ill-match of their parents. It is lamentable that they should have become estranged after only six years together, but when a man is over forty when he marries, such results are not unknown. It is Our thought that Our much-trusted Captain-Lieutenant never wholly recovered from the death of his adored Roman widow, which occurred late in the year 1658; after such a love affair, and so tragic an end to it, he was not inclined to care for any other woman; the vision of his cherished Madame Clemens was ever before him. We have no strong memories of the Roman widow, for We met her but few times, and in Our youth, but We know how greatly he loved her.
We are aware that Our well-loved d’Artagnan had little or no fortune, and to that end, We assure you, as We have assured his estranged wife, that there will forever be a place in Our Guard and Our Musqueteers for the sons of so gallant a father. Very truly We believe that We should not now reign if Our well-loved Captain-Lieutenant had not been tenacious in his purpose and defended Us and Our Mother when there were few so brave as to demonstrate support for Us and the honor of France.
It was truly the skill of Our Captain-Lieutenant that he was able to inspire almost all he met with the desire to oblige him, and would thus perform his requests without loss of the good opinion of others, though what they did on his behalf was not always in their interests except as regards Our esteemed d’Artagnan. Such a gift is one that many another might envy. The loss of so excellent an officer is one that cannot be estimated. Monsieur de Saint-Blaise has said it very aptly, and We can do naught but repeat his words: “Honor and d’Artagnan are wrapped in the same shroud.”
Given at Paris, by Our own hand in respect to the memory of Our most beloved Captain-Lieutenant, Charles de Batz-Castelmore, Sieur d’Artagnan, for such is Our pleasure, and affixed with Our name and Seal.
Louis of France
On the 12th day of July in the Year of Grace 1673.
To be kept with the honor of Batz-Castelmore.
The seal of Louis XIV.
Epilogue
Text of a letter from Ragoczy Sanct’ Germain Franciscus to Niklos Aulirios.
My good friend Niklos;
I knew when it happened. I was in a forest not unlike those in the heart of Africa, and the instant she died the true death, I felt her death was my own. I am grateful that Mazarin’s cousin, Padre Gennaro Colonna, was able to carry word to you as swiftly as he did. Had I been then at liberty to come, I would have been with him. No doubt he informed you of those political circumstances that put me in prison.
That she should die because she restored my old villa: how much turmoil that thought has given me. Today, when I visited the place, and saw where the heating system had collapsed, I could not entirely believe that it was wholly an accident. I have read the report requested by the Pope that declares the builders did not know the proper way of installing the passages under the flooring in order to warm the house through a single holocaust. It may be that it is no more complicated than the use of the wrong mortar that caused the whole foundation to give way. Yet I cannot accept it. Perhaps my doubts are nothing more than my own wish to have no part, no matter how remote, in Olivia’s death, but it may be that the mortar was not to blame, nor the holocaust, though it is said that it seemed to explode.
Senza Pari is yours, without question, as are the other holdings she left you. There is no reason you should share any of them with me. I have more than enough throughout the world to provide my needs, and your long bond to Olivia is deserving of every bequest.
Truly, I do not know what I will do about Villa Ragoczy yet. It may be twenty years since her death, but for me the place continues to be full of Olivia. She haunts the ruins, and I am not yet prepared to disturb her, though I know it is my memories I would disturb, and not Olivia, who is gone from me forever now. In time I will decide what is to be done, but not yet.
The single consolation I can have for comfort is knowing that she found what I still seek—love that knows w
holly and still loves. At least she had that before the true death came. If I am as fortunate, I will think my nearly four thousand years well spent.
One last thing: did they ever learn who the elderly man with the crippled leg was? According to the accounts, his body was discovered near the place where the holocaust ruptured, and no one could identify him.
No more. I will welcome your visits before I depart for Hungary. Know I am grateful to you for your tireless loyalty to Olivia, if my gratitude does not intrude on your grief. You may always count me your friend.
Ragoczy Sanct’ Germain Franciscus
(conte da San Germanno)
his seal, the eclipse
Tor books by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Ariosto
Better in the Dark
Blood Games
Crusader’s Torch
Darker Jewels
A Flame in Byzantium
Hotel Transylvania
Out of the House of Life
The Palace
Path of the Eclipse
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
A CANDLE FOR D’ARTAGNAN
Copyright © 1989 by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
All rights reserved.
This book was originally published as a Tor hardcover in October 1989.
Cover art by Sanjulian
An Orb Edition
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, Inc.
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, N.Y. 10010
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Yarbro, Chelsea Quinn
A candle for D’Artagnan / Chelsea Quinn Yarbro.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
Sequel to: Crusader’s torch.
ISBN 0-312-89019-2 (pbk.)
1. Clemens, Atta Olivia (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Women—France—Fiction. 3. Vampires—Fiction. I. Title.
[PS3575.A7C36 1994]
813'.54—dc20
94-120
CIP
First Orb edition: May 1994
eISBN 9781466807709
First eBook edition: August 2012
A Candle For d'Artagnan Page 59
