Guardsmen of the King: A Historical Adventure Novel (George Glen's Adventures Book 1)

by Richard Bergen

  Soot was on my clothes, in my face, my hair and soot entered my nose and reached my lungs.

  I began to cough convulsively and sank onto my knees. No one was supposed to hear me, no one. I immediately threw myself flat on the floor and stuffed the tip of a large bearskin into my mouth to suppress the sounds of my seizure, which I managed to do to some extent. However, the coughing spasm continued for quite a while and no matter how hard I tried, I could not suppress it. I was already afraid that I had woken up the whole building when this fear was suddenly confirmed. Two legs moved into my field of vision. Slowly I lifted my eyes, expecting to look at the face of a bloodthirsty guard, but instead I found myself looking at the sooty black face of Richard.

  "Richard?", I groaned and had to cough again.

  "Jesus Christ, George!" he whispered. "Get a fucking grip!"

  "I'm trying," I coughed.

  "Then try a little harder! I don't understand this at all. You've seemed so grown up over the last few weeks and now you're acting like a wimpy kid."

  "I'm really trying to be better," I groaned between coughing fits.

  "Get up already!" demanded Richard, pulling me up. "If you keep acting like a weakling, we'll never leave this bloody castle."

  "This château," I corrected.

  "Oh, I almost forgot that you speak perfect French," he said, his angry voice barely able to hold its whisper. "You didn't look so perfect outside on the facade, my friend. That's what really matters. I don't give a fuck whether it's called castle or chatooo. All that matters is who stays alive and who doesn't, you get that?"

  I began to recognise that his mood was not the very best and therefore did not respond to his accusations.

  However, Richard did not want to leave it at that. "Do you think you are something better because you can speak French?" he attacked me.

  I gave him a narrowed-eyed look and said, "Someone asked me that once before and he got a good beating for that insult. Do you want to fight, Richard?"

  "Maybe I want to. But not right now. The place doesn't seem quite appropriate to me."

  I stared at him for a little while and then explained, "I'm neither pretentious nor arrogant, Richard. I don't pride myself on being able to speak French, and I certainly don't think that makes me any better than you."

  "But sometimes it feels that way," he replied, and the pure honesty in his voice stunned me.

  "If you wish, I can teach you French."

  "You would?"

  "Sure."

  "But I can't even read or write English," he said, somewhat dejectedly.

  All this sounded so very familiar. "That gives me one more thing to do," I retorted, grinning. "I'm beginning to feel like Lady Isabelle."

  Richard was grinning. "I hope you don't develop a taste for young chaps as well."

  I grinned too.

  After this chat, we walked through the large salon towards a big door, which I was able to open without making any noise. There were no servants or guards anywhere to be seen. So I assumed that they were asleep too. Who would expect someone to break in here just to elicit secrets from the lady of the castle while she slept?

  Not only did the break-in itself remind me of Stephen Fletcher's house, but the furnishings of the rooms, the corridors and staircases also had amazing similarities. If now the bedchamber was also in the same place, that would be amazing indeed, I thought as I strode through the dark hallway. I reached a door and pushed down the heavy metal handle. Fortunately, this door was neither closed nor locked. Richard and I entered a room that was in fact the sleeping quarters of this mansion.

  Mysterious shadows played on the smooth walls and conjured up the most fantastic figures. I actually thought I recognised the most wonderful mythical creatures in these shadows, dragons, elves and dwarves, which surrounded us like gloomy manifestations of the endless night.

  I faced the large, wide bed, which was covered by a shiny baldachin, and immediately felt a weightiness in my muscles. What I wouldn't have given at that moment to be able to sink into the soft down pillows and blankets of this fantastic bed. It seemed so heavenly, so tempting and so unreal in its softness and warmth. But gradually I became aware that this bed was not empty at all. A figure was reclining in the blankets, which on closer study turned out to be the figure of a woman.

  "Isn't she beautiful?" said Richard quietly beside me, pointing at her.

  Indeed she was. Although she had buried her face in the pillows of the bed, the shimmering curls of her hair were most appealing. The thin blanket highlighted rather than hid the allure of her frame. And these allures were indeed noteworthy. Madame de Darrieux was tall and gracefully grown, but her body tended to be voluptuous, especially in places that were eye-catching to me and Richard. We could not see her breasts, unfortunately, but her bottom, which was stretched upwards as she slept on her stomach, was of the perfection of a healthy-grown apple. The thin blanket fell over her wide hips and disappeared somewhat between her buttocks and thighs. What was it about this France that it had been populated by such beautiful women?

  "Beautiful," I replied and then sank to the floor.

  "What now?" Richard whispered impatiently and sat down next to me.

  "Now we have to wait."

  "And what if she doesn't talk in her sleep today?"

  "Then I guess we'll have to come back tomorrow. Do you mind?"

  Richard shook his head.

  We were silent for a few moments, watching the sleeping beauty. It wasn't difficult for me to wait, but Richard obviously had serious problems with it. He looked around nervously and pursed his mouth in boredom while constantly expelling air theatrically, which was probably meant to mean that he was tired of sitting around. This gesture was just horrible. Couldn't this guy just wait for five minutes? What was so bad about sitting here?

  Apparently Richard's patience had now run out after a couple more minutes. So he whispered to me, "How much longer is this going to take?"

  "Until dawn, if it must be," I replied just as quietly.

  Richard was silent and looked at the sleeping lady for a while before he asked me: "Would you ... with her?"

  I couldn't hold back a laugh, but I suppressed it by putting a hand over my mouth.

  "Yes or no?" he asked urgently.

  "I can't tell," I said. "It's not like I can even see her face."

  "And what you do see?"

  "Is very appealing," I admitted.

  "It would certainly be fun to do her the way Vincent did that female informant."

  A glance at her round bottom made me nod.

  "What do you think, is she naked under the covers?"

  I moved my eyes to her and noticed that she sighed slightly and rolled to the side.

  Richard and I instantly turned to stone. Lord in heaven, I thought, we had talked much too loudly. That was the consequence now. Because of our talking, she woke up. She would discover us easily and shout for the guards.

  But nothing of the sort happened. Madame's eyes remained closed. Only her mouth opened slightly and came up with a single word that immediately sent a cold shiver down my spine.

  "George!" she sighed softly, then turned all the way over onto her back.

  Chapter 27

  George? Had I heard wrong? How could she have known my name? What in God's name was going on here? Had we walked into a trap?

  Once again the Mistress lolling in her bed murmured softly to herself, "George, mon amour! Oui, viens ici!"

  Richard had overcome his shock and asked me in wonder. "What is she saying!"

  "George, come to me, my love!"

  "Why don't you do her the favour?" grinned Richard. "But let me watch!"

  I commanded him with an annoyed wave of my hand to be quiet.

  Now she moaned and said in French so that Richard couldn't understand: "Do you really love me, as you pretend, or is it just one of your tricks to charm a woman?"

  Gradually I realised that she could hardly be referring to me. She was ta
lking about a different George who was in a relationship with her that her husband would hardly approve of.

  "What did she say? What did she say?" whispered Richard, but I urged him to be quiet. "I'll translate it for you later. For now, I have to do our job and write it all down."

  I softly took paper, ink and quill from my doublet and placed them on the floor in front of me. I tried to catch every spoken word: " Hurry, my husband is coming home, dearest!" As she did so, she tossed her head rapidly and whimpered slightly. I could not understand how anyone could sleep like that at all.

  "Hide there ... or perhaps even better: flee! Flee, my love!" she continued, breathing more and more frantically. Then, however, she calmed down again.

  Richard next to me followed the outburst of French word volleys with a lack of understanding. He stood up and walked slowly around the room. Apparently he felt left out because I understood something he had no idea of. His eyes turned to Madame de Darrieux and lingered on her breasts, which bulged out of the blanket.

  I could hardly keep up with the pen, so fast she spoke: "Gaston, oh Gaston. You came after all. I have longed for you. Come, come to my bed! I don't want to wait any longer. Oh, yes ... Yes, you're doing well, my hero. Yes, you know what I need. Oh, this is truly incredible. Do they teach tricks like this at the Musketeers? Oh, Gaston, your tongue is blessed with divine skills. My husband ... my husband would make eyes if he could see what it is to give true pleasure. That stubborn old man."

  Her pretty face contorted and her eyes moved frenetically behind her closed lids. "You are such a complete moron ... not once ... not a single time have you become suspicious. I could do the whole Musketeer corps in front of you and you wouldn't get suspicious."

  I just couldn't believe this. Apparently, this madame was the most active adulteress in France. Her husband, however, seemed to be blessed with a very deep sleep or not to be home very often, because I could not imagine at the moment how anyone could sleep at all next to such an talkative woman.

  But what about the secrets she had learned from her very own husband? When would she finally reveal something truly significant?

  "Yes, Jean-Luc!" Not yet, apparently. "I feel so alone, so empty, so exhausted. I yearn for a real man ... a real man. Fill me up with your manhood, Jean-Luc! Alain, do the same! Yes, both of you do it to me, that's what I want, that's what I've always longed for."

  Madame de Darrieux sighed in her sleep and turned to the side. Her left hand immediately disappeared between her thighs and moved slowly to a point that I guessed more than I could see, although I made a great effort to see. "Yes, yes!" she groaned. Richard also made a great effort to see.

  But slowly impatience set in. How many more lovers would she list before she got down to business? Our business, that is.

  "Oh Louis, you are my favourite of all ... so young and inexperienced ... so naive and yet so clever. Oh yes, I want to see you again."

  I exhaled in annoyance and looked out of the window. Surely the dawn would soon break and we still had nothing usable in our pockets. Was all this operation going to be in vain?

  "Yes, you can confide in me, my dear husband." My ears perked up and I took up my pen.

  "It must be so hard for you, giving orders all day, with nowhere to have a shoulder to sob on. Yes, I understand that. Tell me what's bothering you, tell me!"

  I was really excited. Richard, meanwhile, who didn't understand a single word she said, wandered boredly around the room, looking at the chests of drawers and vases, the wallpaper and carpets.

  "The others, my darling? You're afraid they might achieve their goal? Don't be afraid, you said the plan was safe ... oh, of course it's safe enough. They'll never find it, no matter how hard they search for it. The secret location? The castle of Count Rappeneau? Two of your Musketeer units? What could be safer, my husband. Is Gaston among these men? Yes? That's really interesting."

  So now I had the information. I only wondered what 'it' actually was. What the heck was Darrieux hiding in this castle and why didn't he want us to find it?

  But unfortunately, the Madame did not honour me with an answer to these pressing questions. Her serious face gave way to a distraught expression when she said. "Oh René! It is you whose body I long for the most." A sigh escaped her open lips. "Oh yes, come to me! I await you full of desire. Friday night. I tremble with anticipation, yes come to me - Friday night! My husband will not be present."

  I duly wrote everything down and as I was now staring down at the written words, something struck me. It took a little while, but when I realised what it meant, I felt quite sick.

  This was Friday night.

  "Richard!", I whispered softly as I quickly stowed away my writing utensils. My friend's eyes were still on Madame. Only reluctantly did he turn to me and ask, "What is it?"

  "We have to get out of here as fast as possible."

  "But why?"

  "Come on! Quick!"

  But it was already too late. A loud thumping started and a glance to the window told us that I was absolutely right about my concerns. The top of a ladder was leaning against the window sill and a sinister figure appeared in front of the glass pane.

  Chapter 28

  We were in a jam. The way out the door was blocked for us, because Madame de Darrieux had woken up due to the noises at the window. We ducked immediately and disappeared from her sight behind the huge bed.

  What should we do now? We could not escape unnoticed, for the way to the door was bathed in bright moonlight. It was also impossible to escape from the window, because the dark newcomer was coming straight into the chamber. Concluding, we had only one choice. We had to stay in the room to hide, but where? Where?

  My gaze fell under the bed and I realised that this was the only safe place. There was just the right space for two youngsters of our size under the sumptuous bed. So I nudged Richard and crawled in front of him into the dim crack.

  As we both lay in the safety of the darkness, we could see that Madame de Darrieux had already left her bed. Her bare legs came into our view. She stepped to the window and opened it. "Oh René!" she said, pulling her lover into the room. "I've been waiting for you like this. Didn't anyone see you either?"

  "No one, my flower," a dark voice answered. "I came rushing here like the morning wind that brings freshness and revival."

  "I am so hot," Madame now said tenderly. "Come and revive me!"

  Bodies crashed heavily onto the bed and soon we were listening to Madame's lustful sighs.

  "This is our chance," I whispered extremely quietly to Richard. "We use the ladder to escape."

  Quickly I crawled out of our hiding place and ducked to the open window. As carefully and quietly as I could, I climbed out of the window and felt the first rungs of the ladder under my feet. So I began to descend. A slight joy began to rise in me thanks to the successful escape.

  But how different I felt when I found out that I was all alone on my escape. Where was Richard again? Had he been caught?

  Without giving much thought to my own risk, I climbed back up to the window and looked cautiously inside. What I saw now filled me with rage. Once again Richard sat unmoved beside the bed and watched the lovers. It was only thanks to the fact that the lovers were very much engaged that he had not yet been discovered.

  "Come on!" I hissed at him and when he moved around, I had the feeling I had snatched him out of a dream.

  Immediately he followed me down the ladder. Once at the bottom, I decided not to say a single word to him. He had put us both in great danger out of childish curiosity, and this was the second time he had done so. That was just too much.

  Richard, however, didn't seem to notice my bad mood. As we walked back across the open field to the Guardsmen, he talked in a spellbound manner: "He licked and kissed her between her legs, George. You should have seen that. It gave her a lot of pleasure."

  "Do you realise you've put us in danger?", I yelled at him angrily.

  "Don't be like that!",
Richard now said. "Can't you have any fun at all?"

  "This has nothing to do with fun. I really don't feel like risking my life all the time just because your eyes fall out of your head at the sight of naked breasts."

  Richard didn't reply, but paced beside me a little more seriously. I felt good for having told him off and even better when I became aware that our break-in had been crowned with success.

  We reached our old resting spot. The horses shied a little when they noticed our arrival. The Guardsmen, however, did not notice. They were sleeping peacefully around the extinguished fire. Nice, I thought sarcastically. It was really impressive how these men had joined in. Obviously they hadn't been able to close a single eye because of the excitement.

  I was really angry. We were risking our necks in this damned castle and these guys were just taking it easy. All my respect for the King's guards was gone. I lightly pushed my foot against Tom's legs. Grumbling, he opened his eyes.

  "George?" he said slowly, yawning. "You're back already?"

  "Already?", I asked. "It's almost morning."

  "Oh, it's that late." He stood up and said loudly, "Wilbur, Vincent. Get up!"