“Yes, I have a blank stamp, as well.”
“Then please get what you need and bring them here to the table. The sooner we send them away from here, the sooner we can get on our way, too.”
Soon the letter was written, sealed, and stamped.
“We will meet the men again tomorrow night,” D’Artagnan said. “Montaigne, you can take both letters back to the inn, giving the new one to the innkeeper to deliver and replacing the other where you found it. Just be very careful you are not caught.”
“Me? Caught?” Montaigne cried, feigning outrage. “I am never caught because I am never recognized.” He then took both letters, making sure he knew which was which, and securing them in his clothing.
“I think we should leave tomorrow night, after Georges and I return from our meeting at the tavern,” D’Artagnan told the others. “Those men should be leaving too, but toward the southeast. If we leave during the night, we can be farther along when they leave.”
The others agreed with the plan.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next day, Athos and Aramis went out to gather supplies they would need on their journey. Porthos and D’Artagnan went out again, as they said they would, and Montaigne went out for his own reasons.
At the meeting at The Three Cockerels, Boyce announced that he had received another letter from the king and that his group would be leaving the next morning. They expressed their appreciation to Auguste and Antoine for their help.
“We were excited to help you, but we don’t know how much help that was, I’m afraid,” said Porthos. “We will continue to look, but we don’t know how to contact you if we find him.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Monsieur Boyce told them. “We have received word that he was seen in another location to the southeast.”
The two men stood expectantly, their hands held before them. After a moment, Monsieur Boyce realized they were waiting for payment for their help.
He handed each man a few coins for their trouble, and then they said their farewells and left to go their different ways.
At the church, all of their things were packed. The horses had been retrieved from the stable and the cart horse had been hitched to the cart. Brother Etienne had been carried up the stairs, to which he protested that he could have climbed them by himself.
“I thank you for your help with those ruffians, and I will miss your company,” Father Jean said when they were ready to leave.”
“I talked to LeBeq about the situation, and he said that if they come back, he is to be alerted and will take care of it,” Montaigne told the priest.
“We are the ones who are thankful for your hospitality,” said Brother Etienne. “I am feeling so much better from your care that all I still hope for is to get my memory back.”
“I will pray for your safe arrival at your destination, and for your full recovery,” the priest added. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Just tell no one of our plans, or that we were ever here,” D’Artagnan said. “Oh, and see that Monsieur LeFou safely returns to his home. The city should be safe for him now.”
“I wish to add my thanks to you for helping me,” the young man said. “It was my honor to help you send those men off, away from here. I will also keep your secret safe.”
Then the travelers got under way.
All the furniture that had been bought in Rennes had been left with Father Jean, since there was no need to take it along. They kept the two lanterns and a supply of candles, just in case.
All the men were rested, some during the day and the others in the evening, before they left. Father Jean had found a map of cities and towns to the north, which was the direction they were going.
“We are going to the north, and I think our first stop is in Betton,” D’Artagnan told everyone.
“But you told us we are going to Nantes,” protested Brother Etienne. “Isn’t that where my family is?”
“Yes, that is where I said we were going, but it was not true. It was only to make sure that the real location was not accidentally revealed,” D’Artagnan said. “The direction we are really going is to the north, but I won’t say exactly where yet. Don’t worry, Brother Etienne, it is a safe place for you.
“As I said, our first stop is Betton. It should be big enough to have a tavern, at least, I think. Possibly an inn.” He shrugged. “If there is no inn, we will have to camp. Now, since it is nighttime and most people are abed, I believe we should travel as silently as possible.”
It was not possible to travel completely silently, due to the clop of the horses’ hoofs and the creak of the wheels of the cart, but there was no more talking until they were completely away from Rennes.
∞ ∞ ∞
The journey to Betton took the rest of the night and most of the day, but the cardinal was able to sleep a bit in the cart. They traveled over soft grass for much of the way, since the roads that existed were very rutted and rough. At one point they stopped for a while to rest themselves and the horses. As they entered the village, they saw a tavern.
“At least we should be able to add to our stores, as well as have a good meal,” Porthos said.
D’Artagnan dismounted near the door of the tavern and handed his horse over to Montaigne.
“I’ll ask inside if there is a place to stay for the night.”
Since there were seven of them, and one required a bed, his hopes weren’t high.
“We do have two rooms upstairs for travelers, but they are small. One does have a comfortable bed,” the tavern owner said.
“May I see them?” D’Artagnan asked him.
“Of course.”
The rooms were small, but the bed was wide enough for both monks to fit, and the other room had enough floor space for the rest.
Brother Etienne was carried to the room with the bed and Xavier accompanied him while the others stowed their belonging in the other room. Then the horses and cart were pulled around to the back in a fenced pasture.
D’Artagnan ordered meals for all of them while the three former musketeers secured a table for the four of them. Montaigne stayed in the room with the monks, waiting for the plates for the three of them.
Brother Etienne seemed very tired, but in good humor. “It’s good to be on our way again. Let us pray that the rest of the journey is short.”
They drank to that and ate the meals that had just arrived. Shortly the other four arrived and crowded into the small room.
Montaigne announced that he would bed down with the monks, while the other four took the second room.
“Do you think there may be danger,” Brother Etienne asked.
“One never knows,” was the only reply Montaigne would make.
But the night went undisturbed, and everyone rose rested.
“I know we’re nearing our destination, but I can’t help but think that some new disaster might befall us,” Porthos said.
“We shouldn’t borrow trouble,” Aramis said to him. “But still…”
“I know,” said Porthos. “It could happen.”
They took their breakfasts with them, as well as enough food for their lunch and dinner, as they left shortly after daybreak.
Before they left, D’Artagnan had spoken to the tavern owner. “We will be traveling north and east. Can you tell me what we may expect in the way of towns in that direction?”
The man shook his head. “There is not much in the way of civilization that way. A few settlements, some lone farmhouses. Not many estates. I am somewhat familiar with the region, and I can draw you a rough map. But I’m not sure the settlements I mark will be in the right places.”
“We appreciate any kind of help. Thank you.”
∞ ∞ ∞
“There may be little more than a settlement, so we may need to make camp for the night,” D’Artagnan told the others.
“How far will we go today?” Brother Etienne asked. “I’m sure I’ll want to get out of the cart and walk a bi
t before we get there.”
“Are you feeling that much better? I’m not sure you should be exerting yourself that much. But we will stop later this morning for a rest.”
The road led to a wood not far away which would allow for a brief stop for the travelers.
Several minutes into the wood they found a creek and stopped for the horses to drink and rest. The monks climbed carefully out of the cart, and Brother Etienne was helped slowly toward a small copse.
When he returned and was replaced by Porthos, D’Artagnan asked him, “How are you feeling, Brother Etienne?”
“I feel fairly well. I think my wound has almost completely healed and my knee feels much better. It actually felt good to walk around for a bit.”
“I’m very glad to hear that. We are not much more than a week from our final destination, I believe. Perhaps closer. That is, if we have no more interruptions to our journey.”
“If that is God’s will, and I hope it is. I am very tired of all this traveling, although I don’t remember much of it. Can you tell me where it is we are going?”
D’Artagnan looked around. All the others were out of earshot for the moment.
“I promised Cardinal Tremblay that I would tell no one until we are very close.”
Brother Etienne looked very disappointed to hear that, and D’Artagnan relented a bit.
“We are going to a place by the ocean. It is a place you will be welcomed by friends, I’ve been assured.”
His expression lightened, as if he remembered the place where they were going.
“I think it is time to be on our way,” D’Artagnan told him, and called to the others.
They met no one until near dark, when they came upon a small settlement.
“Well,” said Athos. “Not much here.”
“It doesn’t even look like it has a tavern,” added Porthos.
“But it has houses, and with luck, we may find a place to stay the night.” D’Artagnan headed toward the nearest house, the rest of the group following him.
A large man came out of the house, brandishing a flint-lock rifle. “We’re not looking for trouble here,” he said. “Just go on your way.”
D’Artagnan stopped and looked around. “We’re not offering trouble. We’re just looking for a place to stay the night, and we’ll be on our way tomorrow.”
The man saw the cart and the two monks riding in it. “Are they your prisoners?” He nodded toward it.
“Not at all. We are accompanying the two monks on their way to a monastery. The monk in the cart is injured.”
“Well, then, they can come, but not you or your friends.”
D’Artagnan motioned for Brother Xavier to drive the cart closer to the house.
By this time people from the other houses had come out to see what was going on. The men gathered around the cart.
“What are your names, brothers?” asked one of them.
Brother Xavier introduced himself, and the cardinal as Brother Etienne. “He has been injured,” he repeated.
One man in particular studied the cardinal’s face, then he motioned for the first man to follow him a short way away.
“Do you remember a couple of weeks ago when some men came here and asked if we had seen someone? They had a drawing and said it was of Cardinal Richelieu.” He pointed to the monk in the cart. “He looks quite a lot like that drawing.”
“Those were men loyal to King Gaston,” said a third man.
“Yes, and we have always been loyal to Louis. If this is Cardinal Richelieu, then he is running from Gaston and we should give him aid,” the first man said. “Sir.” He walked back to the cart. “You look much like the drawing we have seen of Cardinal Richelieu. If you are he, and are hiding from King Gaston, you are welcome here.”
Brother Etienne looked up at the man in surprise. “My name is Brother Etienne, but I would be grateful if you were to welcome us anyway. We will only stay the night.”
“Of course,” said the first man, nodding, suspecting that the cardinal had assumed the name as protection. “And your friends are your escorts rather than your captors,” he said in a low voice.
“Yes. They are keeping us safe on our journey, just like Monsieur Renard said.”
“Is that the name of the man who spoke to us earlier?” At Brother Etienne’s nod, he continued. “And what are the names of the others.”
The monk pointed to each one, saying his name. “That is Georges Moreau. Next is Gerard LeRoi. Then Emile Gillette and Monsieur Montaigne. They have been very good to me. To us both.” Brother Xavier spoke for the cardinal, as the older man had become too tired to continue talking.
“Very well,” the first man said. “Then you two may stay the night in my house.” After looking at the second man, he said, “And the rest can stay in Monsieur Bernard’s barn.” He pointed to a large building behind a house. “Pull the cart up beside my house. Your horses may stay in our pasture.”
Brother Xavier did as told, helping Brother Etienne out of the cart and into the house.
“My name is Monsieur Severin. This is my wife. Our children are grown and married, so we have a room you can sleep in.” The man ushered the monks into his home, then went back to direct the others to where they could sleep.
“You may spend the night in the barn,” he pointed in that direction, “and you may put your horses in our pasture. But you should be on your way when the sun rises in the morning. If you have not brought food with you, we will provide it.”
“We thank you,” D’Artagnan said. “And we will abide by your wishes. We have brought a small amount of food, but it won’t last us very long. We can pay for anything you will provide.”
Monsieur Severin nodded and went to talk to his friends.
D’Artagnan called the others over and informed them what he had been told. “I think we will be safe here for the night, but one of us should sleep lightly, in case there is some disturbance.”
“I saw the monks go into that man’s house,” Aramis said. “Do you think they will be safe there?”
“I don’t know, but it is too late now to change things. We still have our weapons, if anything should go awry.”
They turned the horses into the pasture, leaving the cart where it was. Then they took their things into the barn and looked for places to bed down.
Shortly, Monsieur Bernard brought them their meals. It was simple fare, but they appreciated it. D’Artagnan gave their host the equivalent of what they would have paid for the meals in the city.
“My thanks. We are poor farmers, and have to get by with what we grow,” Monsieur Severin said. “Now, gentlemen, if you would give me your swords for the night.”
At looks of distress and distrust, he said, “I’ll give them back to you when you leave. But we don’t know you, and we have been attacked before by robbers.” He took the swords and bundled them up.” Don’t worry. We won’t use them against you.”
When the man had gone, Montaigne said, “At least we still have our pistols. We might as well get some sleep. There’s really nothing we can do before we leave tomorrow.”
They all did as suggested without much discussion.
The next morning, they collected their swords, their charges, and their horses and departed, thanking the homeowners for their hospitality.
“They were very nice people,” Brother Xavier said as the left.
“And generous,” added Brother Etienne. “They really don’t have much and were willing to share it.”
“And hold our swords while we slept,” grumbled Porthos.
“Sorry?” said Brother Etienne.
“Nothing.”
“There is another settlement around a day’s ride from here. I hope it will be big enough to have an inn,” D’Artagnan told them.
Their next stop was in Sens-de-Bretagne. It was also small, but there were several shops and another tavern with a few rooms. The trip there was uneventful, except for a shower during the middle of the day. The group wa
s able to take shelter under a large tree. The rest of the day was sunny with enough of a breeze to dry their damp clothing. The cardinal slept most of the way. The trip had been very tiring to him, and he was not healing as well as he claimed.
Although they thought they were safe from the king’s men, D’Artagnan and Montaigne kept a close watch for other travelers who might also be looking for them. The few that passed them seemed friendly enough, but they were watched until they were out of sight, and then watched for in case they returned.
Late in the afternoon, after travelling a rough road and taking two rest stops, they came upon another small settlement and found places in a home for Brother Etienne and Brother Xavier. Again the rest of them slept in a barn. This time their weapons were not taken from them.
The next day they rose with the sun and departed, thanking their hosts.
The road was better, and they made good time, only stopping at a stream to water the horses and eat a small meal. Their hosts from the day before had offered them food to take with them and had been paid for it. It wasn’t much and they had eaten all of it before they resumed travelling.
Before long, Porthos, who had been riding ahead, spotted a sign post. “Tremblay!” he called to those behind.
“What?” D’Artagnan shouted back. “The cardinal?”
Porthos slowed and turned around to rejoin the group. “No, the town. The village of Tremblay lies ahead. With luck, there’ll be an inn.”
“With luck,” echoed several of the others.
They rode together to the edge of town, where they repeated their actions from earlier days. This time Aramis joined D’Artagnan while the rest waited where they were.
“That looks like a tavern, if not an inn,” Aramis pointed out to his friend. Ahead was a two-story building with a sign hanging in front.
“The Red Raven,” D’Artagnan read. “Another inn named for an animal. It’s no more likely than a blue whale, but if it’s really an inn it doesn’t matter. Shall we see if they have rooms?”
“Indeed,” replied Aramis.
It was an inn and there were two rooms just right for the group of seven.
The Hunt for The Red Cardinal Page 28
