Love and Honor

by Harry Samkange

  Lacombe crept up slowly behind Nicolas as he continued to walk along the deck, the chevalier evidently absorbed in his own thoughts. He knew from his surveillance that there were plenty of times in the early morning and late at night when Nicolas would walk alone. No one’s watching now. How easy it would be to stick a knife in his back and heave him over the side. By the time anyone realizes he’s gone, it’ll be too late to do anything about it, he mused, creeping slowly forward with menacing intent, his hand caressing the handle of the dirk in his pocket.

  “Monsieur Lacombe,” a voice called out from behind. Lacombe turned around with a start, the true intent in his eyes unmasked as the Baron de Ginestas approached him. Patience, a sobering inner voice counseled, as Lacombe struggled visibly with his inner demons. We’ll be in sight of the coast soon. Best to wait until you’ve a fat purse in hand, the weather is right, and the hour is late. Don’t rush things, and you’ll have your chance. Then you’ll show them all what a real man is capable of.

  “Good morning, Monsieur le Baron,” Lacombe said, at last mastering himself, the suave veneer of jovial respectability restored. Ginestas, however, had seen behind the mask. He felt the menace Lacombe had planned and was secretly glad of it. You’ve hated the chevalier since he came aboard, but your hatred has blinded you to his talents. You make the mistake of thinking him easy prey because he is wounded, but you do not know him as I do. You do not know the violence of which our young Achilles is capable. Ginestas reflected, moving forward to place his hand familiarly on Lacombe’s shoulder, his face copiously powdered and rouged as was his habit. He nodded in the direction of Nicolas, who had continued his walk and now stood by the bow, some distance away from them.

  “It is a good morning, Monsieur, but it would be a very fine one indeed if certain obstructions were removed to enhance the view,” the baron said. Have no fear, I shall assist you in your dark deed so that when the time is right for action it meets with success. It would be most inconvenient for me if the chevalier were to reach France alive after I have given my promise that he will not, and been very well paid to keep it. Perhaps you will be the tool I need to accomplish my ends, but for you to be truly of use to me, you must first be controlled, the baron considered, his eyes lingering on the back of Nicolas so that his point should not be misinterpreted.

  “That young man should be careful in standing so close to the railing don’t you think? One never knows when the roll of a ship might cause one to lose one’s balance and go over the side. I understand he’s fond of taking walks at all hours, even late in the evening. If such an occurrence were to befall him in the darkness, I daresay we’d never be able to recover him,” Ginestas hinted with a smile.

  “That would be unfortunate,” Lacombe said with interest, understanding at once the subtext of the conversation but wary nonetheless. “Fortunately though, I’m responsible for the watch.”

  “Yes, how fortunate indeed. I noticed you were about to warn the chevalier to take more care when I arrived on deck. Your concern for him was well-founded, but there’s no need for worry now. I should think at night though, that might be quite another matter indeed,” Ginestas said.

  Lacombe gave the baron a studied glance. What’s your squabble with the runt, I wonder, and why don’t you take care of it yourself?

  “You enjoy the sea and taking orders from men like Closon, do you?” Ginestas probed, noting the scowl on Lacombe’s face.

  “What I enjoy and what I do’s my business and no other’s,” Lacombe hissed.

  “Precisely. We all have our secrets. I admire men who can keep theirs. More importantly, I have need of such men,” Ginestas said.

  “To what purpose?”

  “To the purpose I put them to, to the ultimate end of profit and power.”

  “How do I know you have any of either, Baron?” Lacombe said with a hard and skeptical look. Ginestas reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and removed a small brass key. He placed it on the railing in front of him, covering it with his hand and pushing it toward the hand of Lacombe. Lacombe looked quickly around him to ensure he was free of any unwanted scrutiny before quickly picking up the key and putting it in his pocket.

  “That key opens a strongbox in my quarters. In it you’ll find ten thousand livres in gold. Relieve me of my problem and you may have it all,” Ginestas said.

  “I won’t be able to spend it in a prison cell, or swinging from a noose. You take me for a fool? What’s your real interest in this?” Lacombe said with a smirk.

  “I am in the business, my resourceful sinister companion, of removing pebbles from the shoes of very important people. Those I represent must always keep their hands, if not their consciences, clean. They have deep pockets and long memories and never forget a service or a slight. They pay me very well for my services and my discretion. We have need of enterprising and resourceful men like you. When you open the chest I have told you of, you will find certain letters inside that I have been entrusted to deliver. As a mark of my trust and my confidence in you, I shall allow you to inspect the seals on those letters. You might then begin to have an understanding of the very rare opportunity that you are being offered. If you do what I ask, you’ll never have to fear prison again,” Ginestas said with assurance, looking intently at Lacombe.

  Bugger me! What does he really know? Is he just playing guessing games, or does he know more about my real past than he’s let on? Lacombe wondered, his mind on the verge of panic. “And what if I don’t?” Lacombe said, trying to maintain an air of sangfroid. Ginestas brushed a speck of lint off the arm of his dark suit, grinning widely as he turned to face Lacombe.

  “That would be most inconvenient for me and most unfortunate for you. When we reach port, I’d hate to see you taken from the ship in irons by the King’s Police,” Ginestas said. Lacombe stared openly at Ginestas, his hand tightly gripping the dirk in his pocket.

  “And why don’t I just heave you over now and take the ten thousand for myself,” Lacombe hissed.

  “That would be expedient but foolish. A man as careful as you have been to maintain his disguise, and with such apparent success, could be very useful to me.” Ginestas said with a yawn, purposefully showing Lacombe that he was bored and unimpressed with his threats.

  “Capitaine Clermont has been dead for five years. If you had really been on the Oliphant you would have known that. That makes you a proven liar and impostor, but I wager we’ll not have to worry about the real Lacombe surfacing to prove my conjecture. If I had wanted to turn you in, I could have done it from the first day we set sail. Instead I’ve done my best to help you maintain your cover throughout the voyage. A helpful word here, a kind observation there. It’s quite amusing what people can be led to overlook when they don’t wish to be inconvenienced with the truth,” Ginestas said plainly. Lacombe relaxed his grip on his knife.

  “It seems I’ve been outfoxed. So be it. Now that our cards are face up, what is it that you really want?” Lacombe asked.

  “Have I not made myself clear? I want that particular stone removed, but quietly and discreetly,” Ginestas said, nodding toward Nicolas. “Once you have accomplished that task, you will have a new employer and a far more lucrative and steady source of income than you have now.”

  So I’m to be your puppet am I, under your thumb forever? I prefer to make my own rules. The only man I’ll ever kneel down before is myself, Malveau vowed.

  “Sounds like I have a new partner, “ Lacombe smiled, extending his hand.

  “Good. I promise you, you won’t regret your choice. He keeps very regular habits, our little stone. We’re almost near the coast of France, so we must act quickly. I shall keep a watch on his companions and help you to decide when the thing must be done,” Ginestas said.

  Lacombe grunted his reply, turning to be about his duties before others began to notice the length of time he had spent talking to Ginestas. I never regret my choices, Monsieur, we’ll see if you live long enough to regret yours, Lacombe thoug
ht menacingly.

  *

  Later that evening, after a dinner in which both Dupluies were curiously absent, Sérolène and Nicolas sat together playing cards, waiting for the rest of their usual playing partners to arrive so that the evening’s amusements could begin.

  “Did you have a pleasant walk this morning? I’m sorry I was unable to accompany you, but the rolling sea and the weather put me off completely, I’m afraid,” Sérolène said apologetically.

  “It was rather interesting, I suppose. I’ve begun to notice that each day there are more and more birds in the air. I expect that means we’re approaching the coast,” Nicolas replied.

  “How clever of you to make such a connection; did you take your walk alone, then?” Sérolène asked offhandedly, setting two cards down on the table. Nicolas thought only a brief moment about how much he should divulge to her of his encounter with Virginie before deciding it best to disclose everything.

  “No, actually. In fact I had the most unexpected encounter with Mademoiselle Dupluie,” Nicolas revealed.

  “Oh?” Sérolène said, pausing in her play to regard him.

  “Shall we make it a foursome? I know of no better place to turn my luck around than playing cards with my little brother,” Francis suggested cordially, arriving at that moment with Julienne to break up their tête-à-tête.

  “At last, a fresh source of income for us all. I warn you, Comtesse, though your husband loves to try his hand at cards, he should stick to less complicated affairs. I’ll have his heavy purse for certain,” Nicolas boasted.

  “Ungrateful braggart! You see, this is how he repays me after all I’ve done for him,” Francis said with a laugh.

  “Less boasting, more playing...both of you,” Julienne admonished gaily, gathering up the cards from Sérolène and shuffling them in preparation for play.

  “How much longer do you think we have till we arrive?” Sérolène asked.

  “Another week, perhaps less, or so the crew says,” Francis replied.

  “Does it bother you still?” Julienne asked, watching Nicolas adjust the sling that cradled his wounded arm.

  “Not overmuch. It’s still tender, but I’m told the pain is a sign that the wound is clean. It’s the inactivity that is the biggest bother. I can’t quite get used to not using it at all, though I’m allowed now to at least exercise my hand. In any case, the company here is infinitely more varied and pleasant than on the Fantassin, so it makes up for the lack of exercise,” Nicolas said.

  “With certain exceptions, I suppose,” Francis said in a low voice, spying the strangely unaccompanied figure of Mademoiselle Dupluie entering the cabin. The rest of the foursome turned in the direction of his gaze.

  “Don’t be unkind, Francis. Though Madame Dupluie, I grant you, is intolerable, must we condemn Mademoiselle Dupluie as well for her mother’s faults?” Nicolas pleaded on her behalf. Francis looked at his brother bemusedly.

  “Why, Mademoiselle de La Bouhaire, I believe you have a rival!” Francis said with exaggeration.

  “Rat!” Nicolas sniped in annoyance.

  “Skunk!” Francis shot back.

  “Oh stop it, you two!” Julienne admonished them both, rolling her eyes.

  “Mademoiselle Virginie, won’t you come join us?” Sérolène called out to the new arrival. Virginie smiled thankfully, making her way across the short distance to their table, grateful that she had been offered a place. Nicolas stood to make room for her, careful to adjust the seating so that he now sat between Sérolène and Julienne and not directly next to Virginie.

  “How kind of you to include me. I had wondered whether I should have found any welcome at all…amongst anyone here,” Virginie said with a smile. Everyone rushed to pooh-pooh her sentiments, though all of them, with the exception perhaps of Nicolas and Sérolène, had felt them.

  “I know my mother’s manner makes our company difficult. I would like to assure you all, however, that my mother’s opinions are decidedly her own,” Virginie said, noting the looks of surprise she received from around the table, Nicolas the single exception.

  “Monsieur d’Argentolle encouraged me today during our walk to come out of my shell. I must admit it’s very frightening, but in some ways it’s very exciting too. I hope that you will permit me some indulgence as I struggle to find my own small voice,” Virginie explained.

  “My dear Virginie, you must know that you shall always have friends amongst our families,” Sérolène assured her. Nicolas nodded, never more proud of his beloved than in that moment, touched by the generosity of her spirit. He wanted to take her hand in his beneath the table and give it a gentle squeeze, but she was to his left side and that arm was unfortunately unusable. She seemed to guess at his intention, and he soon felt the soft touch of her foot against his ankle.

  “Indeed you shall. Now come help us all to lighten our spirits and the pockets of Monsieur de Marbéville,” Nicolas said enthusiastically. They all laughed together, Virginie now feeling a part of the collective company, her spirits soaring at the success of her new beginning. How fortunate you are to be so well-loved by such a man, Virginie thought to herself, observing Sérolène and Nicolas discreetly, aware of their all-too-evident attraction.

  “Virginie! Come with me, it’s time for bed!” Madame Dupluie called sharply, having just entered the cabin in the company of Baron Ginestas. This time, however, her daughter did not respond in her usual compliant manner.

  “You go, Mother. I think I shall stay and converse awhile. Anyone for Mediateur?” Virginie said quietly but firmly, looking to the rest of the table for support in her first open act of defiance.

  “That’s a splendid idea!” Sérolène chimed in immediately, earning her the undying friendship of Virginie.

  “I shall stay to watch over her,” Ginestas whispered to Madame Dupluie, who nodded before departing in a huff. No one was sad to see her go. The rest of the party gathered together for cards, arranging themselves around the table to make a foursome for Mediateur, a form of Quadrille. Julienne declared that she preferred to observe the initial round, and so she was chosen to deal the cards. The others took up play with real enthusiasm despite the lateness of the hour. Baron Ginestas took out a book and read by himself in a corner.

  “How delighted I am to be able to join you all. I feel as if my voyage of discovery has now truly begun -- thanks to you, Monsieur,” Virginie said to Nicolas.

  “Your company is most welcome,” Sérolène replied for Nicolas, who was content to play his cards in silence. After several rounds, the single table of card players represented the only persons left awake who were not on duty, with the exception of Ginestas who still had his nose buried in his book. Nicolas, now paired with Sérolène, could hardly keep his eyes open, even failing to respond to Sérolène’s opening bid.

  “Perhaps it’s time to retire. I do believe I’m getting quite sleepy,” Sérolène declared, though she still seemed very much alert. Virginie smiled in amusement, noting that it was Nicolas and not Sérolène whose head was periodically lolling to the side.

  “Come, let’s all take a turn round the deck before we conclude another night on this interminable voyage,” Francis suggested, to the agreement of all. Everyone rose together, the gentlemen leading the way as the party made their way toward the main deck.

  “I’ll say good night, then, to you all. Thank you again for the favor of your friendship. How wonderful it feels, now that it’s more than just a word,” Virginie said sweetly as they reached the deck. Everyone said good night as Mademoiselle Dupluie walked toward her cabin, leaving the rest of the foursome to happily saunter out to stretch their legs before turning in, Julienne and Francis walking arm in arm, slightly ahead of Nicolas and Sérolène, who were admiring the night sky. A thick fog was quickly rolling in, beginning to obscure the light of the full moon.

  “Look, Séro! A shooting star!” Nicolas pointed out.

  “Oh, I see it too!” Sérolène said excitedly.

  “Y
our turn to make a wish,” Nicolas urged.

  “I already have,” she said coyly.

  “But we’re still here,” he said, smiling impishly.

  “That’s not what I wished for,” she whispered shyly.

  “Well, what then?” he asked.

  “I believe you already know it, Monsieur. And it’s up to you, my dear Nico, to make my wish come true. If you don’t, I shall die an old maid …or perhaps a nun,” she chuckled softly.

  “Careful how you use that name, Mademoiselle -- it’s what my mother called me when I was a baby. I couldn’t say my own name, you see; Nico was the best I could manage. Only those that love me most use that name. Only my mother and brother continue to use it now…and you,” Nicolas said.