The defenders herded the others, who looked frightened, away from the church and toward a dense wood not far away.
“Now then,” Montaigne growled, angrily scowling as the young men were gathered together, faces drained of color and surrounded by the others. “What is this all about? You threatened the priest with vandalism if he didn’t give you money? What kind of behavior is that for what looks like young gentlemen? You don’t look poor, or like lowlifes. Why are you really doing this?”
The stern demeanor of the older man frightened even D’Artagnan. He had never seen his friend act like that before. He’d seen Montaigne kill people; he’d seen him turn people in to the local constabulary, but he’d never seen him act like an angry father.
The six young men huddled together, surrounded by only four men, but acting like they were in the middle of an enemy army.
“I said why?” Montaigne thundered.
Finally, the leader stepped out and said, “Yes, we are all of high social rank. That church is full of derelicts, criminals and sinners. We want to rid the city of these people. We believe that is our calling.”
Montaigne laughed. “A church is full of derelicts, criminals and sinners?
Do you think only those who are wealthy and above reproach should attend church? Who do you think church is for?” He shook his head at the naiveté of the boys. “Church is for the poor, downtrodden sinners that you want to drive away. But for your high birth, you could be one of them.” He waved his arms. “Now, go home and do not threaten the church of Saint John the Beloved again. I will find out who you are, and if you ever return, you may not get off so easily.”
The leader bravely demanded, “Give us back our swords, then, and we will go.”
“No.” Montaigne brandished his sword at them, and they ran.
“Do you think that was good enough?” Porthos asked. “Maybe we should have made an example out of one of them.”
“I will speak with the priest and with LeBeq. They will find out who they are and know what to do if it happens again,” said Montaigne.
When they returned to the church, all the trays had been taken inside and the three men there had begun eating.
“What happened out there,” Athos asked. “Father Jean told us that you led the men away from the church, but not what you did to them.”
“They were only boys, barely old enough to grow a beard,” Montaigne told him. “And we did nothing but talk to them.”
“Montaigne talked to them like an angry father,” Aramis added. “But we will learn their names and warn the authorities.”
“Our former ‘benefactor’ will take care of them,” Montaigne said. “Now, enough talking about that. They certainly will not try anything while we remain here. Shall we have our dinner?”
Chapter Twenty-One
The rest of the day was peaceful. Montaigne and Aramis went to a tavern nearby to gather news, while D’Artagnan and Porthos went to one farther away for the same reason.
Later that evening, when everyone was back at the church, they gathered by the bed for a discussion.
“How are you feeling now, Brother Etienne?” asked D’Artagnan when they were all together.
“I am feeling better, thank you. I feel a bit stronger, too. I think I should be able to walk around down here, and I think I could even climb the stairs.” The cardinal turned as though he was going to get out of bed. “I’ll show you.”
“That’s not necessary,” D’Artagnan protested.
“Nonsense,” the monk said. “I wish to demonstrate my physical condition to assure you that I am able to continue our journey at any time. You needn’t coddle me, sirs.”
“Of course not, Eminence,” Aramis told him. “But we don’t want you to be injured again. We’ll feel much better if you let us take care of you while we travel.”
“Oh, all right. I suppose it won’t be that much longer.” The cardinal, who had been about to stand up, said, lying back down.
“Now, what have you discovered while you were out,” asked Athos.
Montaigne began the report. “We heard that Gaston’s men have been here for several days, and have been asking at inns and taverns for, and I quote, ‘enemies of the Crown.’ I suppose that would be us, just as we thought.”
“We heard much the same,” said D’Artagnan. “I think we will be safe here, though. I believe the men will be moving on in a day or two. Montaigne, would you go out tomorrow and wander around for a while, looking for them?”
“Of course. I might even strike up a conversation with one of them.”
The next day they all stayed in the church, except for Montaigne, who went out as D’Artagnan had asked.
There wasn’t much to do except to watch in case the boys who had attacked the church came back. The priest spent some time in the cellar with Brothers Etienne and Xavier. The others left them alone to converse.
“Let’s practice fencing,” suggested Athos. He waved his arm, saying, “I know we don’t carry rapiers. Let’s just use the swords we have. Or maybe the swords those boys gave us.”
The others concurred and they went outside behind the church to practice.
While the four friends were outside, Father Jean and Brothers Etienne and Xavier were in the cellar, talking.
“It’s very kind of you to come down to talk to us,” Brother Etienne told Father Jean. “We have kept moving and haven’t even stopped for Mass on Sundays. I would so like to attend the next time you say Mass.”
“I do that every day, Brother Etienne. If you feel well enough tomorrow, you should come up in the morning. I’ll come down here to tell you when that will be,” the priest said.
“Excellent!” the monk responded. “I’m sure I will be able to climb the stairs tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it,” said Father Jean. “Wait! Did you hear something?” He listened for the sound again. Lowering his voice, he continued. “It sounds like someone is farther back in the cellar.” He took his lantern and moved a short way toward the sound.
Before the priest had gone far, Montaigne arrived.
“Father, I just want to warn you that the men we are trying to avoid are coming this way. The others are watching them and will try to distract them from coming here. But we should move farther into the cellar.” He turned to the cardinal. “Will you be able to walk a short distance?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’m getting stronger every day. My voice is much better, too, I think. I’m not getting so winded. Are we going there now?” He turned to get up. “Oh, I will need my shoes.”
Brother Xavier rummaged in the bag of the few possessions the cardinal had with him, pulling out a pair of sandals.
“Here you are, Brother Etienne. I will help you walk the distance.”
“I will take chairs for you to sit on while we move the bed,” Montaigne said, picking up two of the chairs.
“I will take the other two chairs, and then we can get the tables,” Father Jean told them. “We should leave nothing in this room to show that anyone was staying here.”
“Of course,” Montaigne answered. “After we clear the room, we can move the bed. Do you think it will fit through the doorway still put together?”
The priest and Montaigne looked at the bed, then at the doorway. “We can try,” said Father Jean.
Brother Xavier helped the cardinal to stand, but he swayed and his knees gave out so that he had to sit back down.
“Montaigne, would you help me to move the cardinal?” Brother Xavier asked.
“Of course, but first let me move a chair there for him to sit on.”
After everything but the bed had been moved, the two men went back to the room, leaving Brother Xavier to care for the cardinal.
“If we each go to a side and try to lift it that way, at least we can move it to the door,” suggested Montaigne.
They did that, discovering that the bed was a little too heavy for just the two of them. Then they dragged it to the door.
“It’s worth a try,” said Montaigne.
All the bedding and the pallets had already been taken to the new location, so it was just the frame they had to move. Being solid oak with head- and foot-boards, it was heavy.
Montaigne had a thought. “Do you have an old blanket that you don’t really use anymore?”
“I think so. We don’t throw old things away, since they might have other uses. I’ll go see what I can find.”
Presently he returned with just what they needed. They spread the blanket out underneath the bedframe, then lifted each corner in turn to put a section of the blanket under the legs. It moved easily when pulled through the doorway and on down the corridor. Shortly they arrived where the bed would be set.
“You didn’t have to take it apart,” exclaimed Brother Etienne disappointedly. “I was hoping to watch you put it together.”
“I’m sorry, but it took much less time this way,” Montaigne told him. “I need to go out and check on our friends. Will you be all right?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine now. Thank you for taking such good care of me. Would one of you help me into the bed? I’m feeling quite tired all of a sudden.”
“Of course.” Montaigne and Brother Xavier both assisted the cardinal to return to his bed.
The monks had been moved farther down the cellar hallway than the priest knew existed.
“We’re not even all the way to the end. How much farther is there?” Brother Etienne asked Father Jean.
“Not much farther, I think. I haven’t exactly gone all the way to the end.”
“You haven’t? Aren’t you curious how far it goes?” Brother Xavier interrupted. “I don’t think I could help but explore the whole length. What if it’s a tunnel that ends a mile away? Or at another building? Or at your home? Have you checked in the rectory cellar? Maybe this leads there and you could come through it when the weather is bad.”
“How interesting!” The priest paused a moment. “I haven’t explored the cellar of the rectory. I’m somewhat afraid of spiders, and I’m sure there are many down there. I use it only for storage. Perhaps I can ask one of my parishioners to look.”
Another sound came from farther into the cellar. Father Jean looked alarmed, but Brother Xavier said, “It could just be a small animal. I could go look, but I’ll need to take the lantern.”
“I’d rather you stay here,” Brother Etienne told him. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Brother Xavier bowed to the request, saying, “Of course. Perhaps one of the others will return soon and he can investigate.”
Moments later, Porthos arrived, carrying the second lantern down from upstairs. “Montaigne said you’d moved farther in. He asked me to come stay with you until all is safe again.”
“We’re glad you came,” Brother Etienne said. “We have heard a sound from farther along the corridor. We had been speculating how much farther it goes and where it ends. Father Jean hasn’t explored the full length yet. I would go, but they won’t let me.” He motioned to the two other men. “They said it might be too dangerous. Would you go, instead, and report what you find?”
“Certainly, Brother Etienne. I will take the lantern with me and go now. You said you heard a sound? Can you describe it?”
Father Jean turned to him. “It was a rustling sound. It may have been a small animal. I don’t know if, at the end, it opens to the outside. If so, an animal may have entered for shelter. Thank you for checking it out for us.”
Porthos took the lantern, lit the second lantern with it, and then left to explore farther.
“We forgot to ask him what news there is,” said Father Jean. “But if we hear anything, I will take this lantern farther down and shutter it. Then we must be very quiet to not call attention to ourselves.”
The small group sat without speaking for a few minutes, then the cardinal whispered, “I wonder if Georges has found anything.”
“We should know soon,” Brother Xavier whispered back to him.
A few moments later Porthos did come back, with another man in tow. He stopped far enough away from the bed that the small group was in darkness.
“I found someone hiding at the end of the tunnel, for tunnel it is. There is a door at the end that opens into the cellar of the rectory. He says his name is Pierre LeFou.”
Brother Etienne said to Father Jean. “I suggested that to you, didn’t I?”
“Can you tell me where the door opens into? I haven’t been in much of the cellar yet.”
“There is a door behind the cellar stairs, but it is blocked from casual sight. This man says he knew of the access to the tunnel and hid there.” Porthos turned to the man. “You tell your story.”
The man in question stepped forward, but was pulled back so he couldn’t see them.
“I have been hiding from Gaston’s men. As soon as I heard they were in town, I knew they were looking for me, so I hid in the safest place I knew, this cellar. When I was young, my family attended Mass here. I was a friend of the son of the priest’s cook, and he showed me all the hiding places.”
“Why do you think those men are after you?” Porthos asked.
“They are after my father, but he died recently. I know that if they can’t get to him, they’ll find me.”
“But what could your father have done to make them search for him?” asked Father Jean.
“My family has lived in Rennes for generations, until a few years ago. My father was in service to the king, the former king, that is. A few years ago he was injured in the line of duty, and was sent to stay with relatives in the southeastern part of France, where it is warmer, in a small town. While there he made friends with a man who turned out to be one of Gaston’s men. Our family has always supported King Louis, so my father, knowing that the king and his brother were not on good terms, took it upon himself to do some mischief. More than mischief, really. He killed a close friend of Gaston’s. I don’t know who that was, but it made Gaston angry enough to look for my father. But my father was able to slip away and make his way back to Rennes. The trip was too much for him. He had enough breath to tell me his story before he died. He said that Gaston would find our family and kill us all. Unfortunately, there was no more family but me. So when I heard that men sent by Gaston were coming here, I got as much food as I could and came here. I was able to enter the rectory undetected and found my way to the tunnel.”
“How long have you been here?” the priest asked. “You must be cold and hungry.”
“I brought as much of my possessions as I could carry: some clothes and blankets, as well as the food. When I know the men have gone, I can go back to my family home. Are they still here? I have heard no news for several days, since I got here.”
“They are still here,” Porthos said. “In fact, they have been sniffing around this neighborhood, especially the church. You stay here while I go look for my friends.”
He took the lantern to the priest. “Keep watch until I, or one of the others, returns.”
After Porthos had left, the young man, Pierre, said, “If I may ask, why are the three of you down here?”
The three churchmen looked at each other. They didn’t know what to say. His appearance had caused a problem.
“It is a private matter we are dealing with,” Father Jean told Pierre. “It is not up to me to talk about it to anyone.”
“Perhaps I could speak with one of the others? I would like to help with your problem, whatever it is, since I have yet to be reprimanded for trespassing in your cellar.”
Father Jean was holding the lantern away from the bed and the two monks, but Pierre looked their way, trying to see who they were.
Father Jean saw this and introduced the brothers to him. “Monsieur LeFou, these two monks are Brother Etienne and Brother Xavier.” He left it there, discouraging any more questions abou
t the men.
Presently, Porthos came back with Athos and Aramis in tow. D’Artagnan and Montaigne soon joined them.
“I hear someone’s been hiding in the cellar all along,” D’Artagnan said to the priest. “And I can see him over there. Do you know anything about him?”
“Only what he told us when he was discovered. Did Georges tell you the story?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure I believe all he said. Do you know anything about his family?”
“No, but I’ve been here only a few years, and there are several other churches in Rennes. His family could have attended any one of them more recently.”
“We need to know the truth about him.”
Montaigne said, “I’ll ask around town about his family. First, I’ll ask him what part of town his family home is in.” He went to talk to the young man.
“And we need to know if he has a trade. If he’s telling the truth we may be able to help each other,” D’Artagnan said.
After Montaigne left, D’Artagnan went to speak to the young man.
“I understand that you are hiding from the men that have come here from Paris.”
“Yes. I’m afraid they are looking for me, since my father, who died recently, killed one of King Gaston’s supporters. Since they can’t kill him, they’ll settle for killing me.” Pierre looked at the other men standing near the bed. “I see your friend, Brother Etienne, is not well. Are all of you taking him somewhere?”
D’Artagnan didn’t answer the question, but asked the young man another one.
“You still live here in Rennes? Do you still have family here?”
Pierre thought a moment, not sure what D’Artagnan was getting at.
“I did. As I said, my father died recently of his wounds. My mother died several years ago, and other family members have either died or moved away. Why are you asking me these questions?
“Do you have a trade, or was your family wealthy?”
“Uh, my family has been wealthy, but not much is left. But as to a trade, I am a calligrapher and scribe. I write letters and documents for people who haven’t the skill or education to do it themselves. Why do you ask?”
The Hunt for The Red Cardinal Page 26
