The Hunt for The Red Cardinal

by Bradley Sinor

  “What about Brothers Etienne and Xavier?” Aramis asked. “I don’t think they should go with us, but they shouldn’t be left alone, either. One of us should stay with them.”

  “I agree,” D’Artagnan said. “Would you rather stay here in the stable or in the inn?” he asked Brother Xavier. Brother Etienne was still asleep. “It’s cool there since there are no fires burning.”

  “The inn, I think,” Brother Xavier said. “If you can carry Brother Etienne up the stairs.”

  “Very well. I’ll take the horse with the others so it can eat and drink. Georges, would you take the brothers up and stay with them? If the rest of us don’t finish searching the village soon, one of us will replace you and we’ll keep searching. God willing, we will find a bit of food to buy. Otherwise, we’ll be eating the rest of our rations,” D’Artagnan said.

  The Cardinal’s guard and the two musketeers searched the homes and shops of the absent villagers. There were less than two dozen buildings to look through, including homes. Most of the buildings were very small, and most of the houses were two or three rooms with a loft. They found no food and little else there. The only other buildings were a bakery, a butcher shop, a blacksmith and the church with its rectory, set a good quarter mile back from the road, which they went to last.

  The door to the church was locked. Banging on it did no good, so they went around it to the back, where another door proved impossible to open, as well. Next they went to the rectory, which near the church, but a small stand of trees screened it from the church. Before they were in sight of the house, D’Artagnan said, “Gerard, you go back for the others and bring the cart and horses and everything with you. We’ll wait for you here.”

  Athos did as asked. It took a while to hitch the cart horse, which had been let loose to graze and drink, saddle the other horses, gather up their belongings and carry Brother Etienne down to it. Then they returned to the spot where D’Artagnan and Aramis were waiting for them.

  “Brother Xavier, would you drive the cart up to the house? Then you can knock on the door and ask for sanctuary. Say that Brother Etienne is ill, which is true. The rest of us will approach the house at a distance and spread out around it. Gerard will go to the back. Georges, you go to the right side, and Emile, you go to the left side. I’ll be at the front out of sight. Be sure you can’t be seen. Maybe, if anyone is in there, if they see just the two monks at the door, they’ll open it.”

  They all took their positions and Brother Xavier knocked on the door.

  After several knocks, D’Artagnan saw someone peeking through a window. “Someone is in there,” he said, softly. “Brother Xavier, please call out and see if the door opens.”

  “Hello the house,” the monk called. “My companion and I are Capuchin monks and seek food and shelter.”

  After a moment they could see a crack in the door. A face peered out and looked the monks up and down. “What are your names and where do you come from?” it asked.

  “I am Brother Xavier and the man in the cart is Brother Etienne, who is ill. We are traveling from the monastery in Clairefontaine and seek shelter. Can you help us?”

  “Ill! No! Leave here at once,” the man at the door said. Before he slammed the door, Brother Xavier called out.

  “I didn’t mean ill. He has been injured. He fell from the cart when we hit a rut. He is not ill.”

  The door opened a bit farther and another face joined the first. “Who is your Abbot?”

  “He is called Abbe’ Michel.”

  “And you are telling the truth when you say he is only injured?”

  “On my oath, I tell you the truth,” Brother Xavier told them.

  The two faces whispered to each other and after a moment the door opened farther. “Are you traveling alone?”

  Brother Xavier paused a moment. “No, we have traveling companions. Four men who are seeking employment are traveling with us. They are looking in the village for help.”

  D’Artagnan heard and headed around the building to gather the other three and sneak back toward the village.

  The door opened to let the two monks enter, Brother Etienne being carried by a large, strong man. They were startled to hear the door slammed and barred behind them. Once they were inside, people slowly entered to see who the newcomers were. Brother Xavier thought, These must be the people from the village.

  “What has happened in this village?? All the buildings were empty. Are these people the villagers? You welcomed us into your home and then barred the door behind us.”

  A man in a priest’s robe pushed his way through the crowd. “Come in; you are welcome here. I am Pastor Alexandre.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The two monks saw a tall, thin man standing in the house’s foyer. There were other people standing behind him, dressed simply. The group extended into the next room as well as up the ornate staircase. The man looked similar to Brother Etienne, but much younger and clean shaven.

  “Please forgive my people. They are afraid, but with good reason. Yesterday a rider came through our village warning us of a small group of heavily armed men heading our direction. He told us they are looking for an enemy or enemies of the Crown and will search every home and shop in each village they visit. I told the people they have nothing to fear since there is no enemy of the Crown hiding here, but it didn’t placate them. So I asked them to come to my home and bring whatever food they have with them so we all can eat.”

  By this time the man holding Brother Etienne had laid him on a divan in the foyer. There were other chairs with several elderly people sitting in them.

  “This is Brother Etienne,” Brother Xavier told the men. “He was gravely injured and is being taken to his family home to recover. I can see you are crowded, but is there a bed he may lie in away from the bustle of the people?”

  “Of course! Please come with me. I have a room he may stay in.” The pastor carried Brother Etienne a short way to a small bedroom on the first floor where the injured man could rest. He went back to the front when he heard a knock at the door again.

  Before the young monk got to the bedroom where the cardinal had been taken, he heard D’Artagnan calling, “Brother Xavier! Are you in there? Brother Xavier?”

  The pastor opened the door this time. “You are with the monks? What are your names?”

  D’Artagnan spoke for all. “I am Allais Reynard. My friends are Georges Moreau, Emile Gillette, and Gerard LeRoi. We have been traveling with the monks for a couple of weeks to make sure they get to their destination safely. May we come in?”

  “A moment, please.” Pastor Alexandre closed and barred the door, then went to the bedroom to confirm the identities of the men at the door.

  “Oh yes, they are the men traveling with us. Please let them in,” Brother Etienne said, repeating their names to prove that he knew them.

  Once inside, the men bowed to the pastor and thanked him for his hospitality.

  “Pastor, could you tell us what has happened here? We were looking forward to a night at an inn instead of on the ground, and found your inn and all your houses and shops empty.”

  The priest explained the situation to them and then asked if they would like to join everyone for supper.

  “We would be delighted, Pastor,” D’Artagnan told him. “And we have some food with us that we can share. Georges, would you go out to the cart and get our supplies, please? Emile, please go help and then tether the horses out of sight where they can graze and drink.” He turned to the clergyman. “May we store our cart in your stable?”

  “Of course, if it isn’t large. The stable is small.”

  “Thank you,” D’Artagnan said, and requested that Athos do so.

  “The monks have been taken to my bedroom, which is next to my study. Come with me; we can talk there. You are their leader, then?”

  “I am, to some extent, but we all have a say in what we will do and where we are headed.”

  “Does that extend to the monks, as well?”r />
  “Of course. They are knowledgeable, and Brother Etienne, who, as you can see, is injured and sleeps much of the time, has wisdom the rest of us don’t possess.”

  By that time the two had arrived at Pastor Alexandre’s study, where he bade the visitor sit.

  “And where are you going?”

  “Brother Etienne wishes to return to his family home to complete his recovery. Brother Xavier is his companion, and since he has had medical training, his physician while we are on our way. After we have delivered Brother Etienne to his family home, we will continue our journey.”

  “Where is Brother Etienne’s family home?”

  “In Nantes, although we know we are far from there. We will be on the road for a long time before we arrive.”

  “And may I ask where the journey will lead you then?” The pastor sat at his desk.

  “Wherever we can find employment. We have all been trained as soldiers.”

  “And how did you come to be riding with the two monks?”

  “You seem to have a lot of questions, sir. But I understand why you are asking and will tell you. I was hired to accompany the two monks as their guard. We came upon my friends on the way and they agreed to ride with us. I have known these men for some time and trust them implicitly.”

  “Very well, sir. It sounds as if your friends have returned from their tasks. Shall we go to our supper?”

  “Thank you.” D’Artagnan was glad for the interruption, and hoped there would be no more questions.

  They entered the carved-oak paneled dining room to find the simple oak table laden with dishes of food. The townspeople were lined up, taking their turns to fill their plates.

  Porthos and Aramis were in the line with the plates from their packs. Porthos handed D’Artagnan a plate and said, “This one’s from your pack. The others have gotten their own plates. It seems everybody brought plates with them when they came.”

  “My thanks,” D’Artagnan replied. “Did you bring all our belongings in with you?”

  Porthos looked around before answering. “Almost all. We moved the cart into the stable and buried a certain sack underneath it. I have brought some of its contents in with me, as payment for our room and board.” He patted a pocket and a faint jingling could be heard.

  “Good thinking, my friend. Did we have much food to donate to the cause?”

  “Not much, but it was all we had. I didn’t want to slight on that. We’ll find more after we go on our way.” I hope, he added to himself.

  By that time Porthos had reached the table and began to serve himself. D’Artagnan went to the back of the line with his plate to wait his turn. Then he filled a plate for Brother Xavier and Brother Etienne, although he wasn’t sure the older man would be able to eat much, and took it to the room where the monks had been taken.

  After all had eaten, Pastor Alexandre called everyone together. They filled the living room, the dining room, and the foyer, with some standing on the stairs.

  “My friends, I know you all want to go back to your homes, but there is still threat of danger. As you already know, I haven’t enough bedrooms for even each family, so again you will have to bed down on the floors. Those with the largest families may each take one of the bedrooms to leave more space in the other rooms for the rest. One of our new guests, the injured monk, will need a bed, and I will give up mine and sleep on the floor. Monsieur Allais, there may be enough space on the floor of my bedroom for some of your party to sleep, if not all. You are welcome to it. The rest of you may group by family in all the other rooms of my home except for my study. I will sleep in there. Now, please, pray for our continued safety and that of our travelers as you thank the Lord in your evening prayers. God be with all of you as you go to find your places and retire for the night.”

  There was much chatter and moving around before the settling down began. By full dark everyone was in place and the candles had been extinguished. The fires in the fireplaces had been banked and all was quiet, except for one or two crying infants, which was to be expected.

  The group of travelers were in their assigned bedroom with the door closed.

  “We must discuss this situation, but we must also be very quiet about it,” D’Artagnan said to them in a low voice. “Brother Etienne,” he said to the now awake monk, “we suspect, with reason, that the enemy of the crown who is being sought is you. Don’t worry, you are safe, we would never give you up. You are much too important to us and the country for that. But we must leave at first light. I think that even here we must stand guard through the night.”

  The cardinal nodded, then went back to sleep.

  “Do you think the townspeople might think to betray us?” Athos asked. “I think these people may not be what they seem.”

  “It is a possibility. I believe they do not know exactly who those men are searching for, but I think they would give up any stranger to ensure their own safety. But what do you mean, not who they seem to be?”

  “The pastor. He is wearing the robe of a priest, but does not call himself that. His demeanor does not seem to be that of a priest and he isn’t wearing a crucifix. Oh, I cannot really explain it, but we should keep on our guard.”

  “We shall. Georges, will you take the first shift and wake Emile or Gerard for the second? I will take the last and watch for the first hint of dawn.”

  The two monks fit in the one bed, lying close together. The rest bedded down on the floor while Porthos sat in the one chair. There was barely enough room for all of them, but they had slept in close quarters before and were used to it.

  Shortly after the household quieted and went to sleep, three of the townsmen--the innkeeper, the butcher, and the blacksmith--quietly rapped on the study door. Pastor Alexandre opened it and the three men crowded in.

  “We must speak to you, Pastor,” François, the innkeeper, who also served as the village magistrate, said quietly. “We are worried about these new people. I know that two of them are supposed to be men of God, but how do we know that for sure? How do we know they are telling the truth about anything? They may be the men wanted by the king. And besides that, they claim to be Catholic.”

  “Yes, Pastor,” the butcher, André, bald and the eldest of the three, chimed in. “We all agree that you should wear the priest’s robe and be careful around strangers, but they may have suspicions that we are Protestant. We may not be safe from them or because of them. The men looking for them may punish us for giving them aid. We must turn them in if it is demanded of us.”

  The blacksmith, who was the large man who carried Brother Etienne in earlier, just nodded.

  “This is a grave request, my friends. I am duty bound by God, even as a Protestant, to give aid to travelers in need. I am also duty bound to protect my flock. But we may not have to make the choice. We will send them on their way in the morning, and if the King’s men haven’t arrived by then . . . Well, our consciences will be clear. Go back to your families and get some sleep.”

  The men left to sleep, but the pastor had trouble finding it himself.

  Several hours before dawn, a pounding was heard at the back door of the house. “Open up. It is I, Jacques. I must speak with Pastor Alexandre.”

  The man sleeping closest to the door looked out the window to verify the identity of the door’s assailant, then opened it quickly.

  Jacques, panting, dashed in and slumped to the floor.

  “What is so important that you wake us in the middle of the night?” he was asked.

  “They are coming, they are coming.” Jacques caught his breath and rose, heading for the Pastor’s bedroom to tell the clergyman. Fortunately, Pastor Alexandre had heard and intercepted him before he could open the wrong door.

  “Pastor, Pastor” he called. “I must talk to you.”

  The pastor pulled the man into the study, closing the door.

  “They are coming!”

  “So I heard, Jacques,” he said, motioning for Jacques to lower his voice. “How far away are
they?”

  “Not more than one day's ride, I think. I rode as quickly as I could to warn you. What should we do?” The man was wringing his hands in distress.

  “First, calm yourself. There is no benefit to being in a panic.”

  François, the innkeeper, stuck his head in the door. “Pastor, now is the time to decide about the new people. If we turn them in, our village will be safe and so will we. And we may be rewarded, as well.”

  “What new people?” Jacques inquired.

  “Two monks and four mercenaries arrived in the village last night,” François told him. “They seemed all right and were allowed in, but then some of us started thinking that they may be the enemies of the crown that are being searched for.” He turned to the pastor. “If we don’t turn them over to the crown soldiers who are coming to the village, we all might be hurt or killed for defying them.”

  The pastor thought a moment, then told the other men, “I’ll pray about it and let you know by dawn what we will do.”

  François and Jacques left the room and Pastor Alexandre closed the door. He sat on his chair, deep in thought. He was loath to betray the trust of the newcomers, but the villagers, his people, had to come first. His head bowed, he prayed for wisdom from God to do the right thing. Then he lay down on the bare floor and went to sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  At dawn the families were up and about, getting together whatever breakfast they could. François and Jacques knocked on the pastor’s door, who was ready for them.

  “I have made a decision. I am not willing to just turn over the strangers. Even if they are not the ones being searched for, they would possibly be dealt with severely.” He raised his hand to forestall objections. “However, this is what we will do. When the signal is sent that the men are approaching the village, the women, the children and, the newcomers will be sent to the tunnel.”

  The two men looked at each other. “What tunnel?”

  Pastor Alexandre sighed. “It is a long-held secret that there is a tunnel between this house and the church. I found the entrance shortly after I took over.”