CHAPTER 11 – THE SON OF D’ARTAGNAN
09:17 (Paris Time)
Monday, July 1, 1652
Royal Court of King Louis XIV
Castle of Maubergeon
Poitiers, France
Jules Mazarin, Cardinal, Prime Minister and lover of Queen Anne of Austria, was walking in the corridors of Maubergeon Castle, doing some thinking while exercising his legs a bit. Having returned from self-exile only a few months ago at the head of an army of 7,000 German and Polish mercenaries, Mazarin had been warmly welcomed back by both the Queen and the young King. The Parisians, on the other hand, had taken little time to put a 150,000 livre reward on his head, an edict that had then been annulled by the King. Then, the Duke of Orléans had joined his armies with those of the Prince of Condé, who still hated Mazarin with a passion. The ingratitude of so many towards him despite his years of loyal service to France made Mazarin quite bitter at times, especially when the xenophobia about his Italian origins was added to that. On the other hand he could console himself with the thought that such people as the Queen, the King and a number of royal counselors appreciated him and treated him like a friend. He also could count on the loyalty of quite a few brave men, not the least of which was Charles d’Artagnan, who had faced untold dangers and discomfort to play the vital role of courier between him and Queen Anne.
As the thought about D’Artagnan crossed his mind, Mazarin saw through the window of the upper floor he was standing in front of a small covered horse cart approach the castle. It was very ordinary in appearance and was driven by what seemed to be a woman, something not unusual in the least. What attracted Mazarin’s attention was the size of the woman, who was now discussing with one of the guards standing vigil along the road from Nantes: Compared to her, the guard seemed diminutive. That fact reminded Mazarin of a girl his loyal d’Artagnan had told him about more than once. His interest now awakened, Mazarin followed with his eyes the cart as it drove into the courtyard of the castle and stopped besides the stables, where the woman jumped out and tied up her horse before grabbing a large wicker basket and walking towards the main entrance of the central dungeon. Being able to see her from closer, Mazarin saw that she was actually a beautiful teenager, with long black hair and a generous chest. Now truly curious about her, Mazarin hurried down the main staircase, stepping in the lobby as the girl was being received by a royal valet. The girl, seeing Mazarin approach her, made a curtsy to him, prompting a gentle chiding from the Cardinal.
“No need for such formalities with me, my child: I am not the King after all.”
“But you are his prime minister, as well as the master of the man I love, Your Eminence.”
“So, you are indeed this famous Lady Nancy Sommers d’Artagnan kept telling me about?”
“I am famous, Your Eminence?” Said the girl, appearing a bit embarrassed. Mazarin had to say that she was indeed beautiful, apart from being impossibly tall for a girl. She was however also very fit and strong-looking, with a suntanned skin that denoted a lot of time spent outdoors. The Cardinal could see how d’Artagnan could fall in love with such a girl. He noted quickly the little baby sleeping inside the basket held by her.
“If young King Louis as well as the Queen keep telling me about your exploits in Paris, then I believe that this makes you famous, Lady Sommers, or should I say Marquess of Saint-Laurent?”
“Just Nancy would do, Your Eminence.” She said in her melodious voice, her green eyes sparkling with malice. “Would Monsieur d’Artagnan be in this castle by chance?”
“Unfortunately, no. He is still in Paris. May I understand that you came to present him his newborn child?”
“You are correct, Your Eminence.” Replied Nancy, her smile fading somewhat at the news that Charles was not here. “I was hoping that he would have joined you here, at the temporary court of the King.”
An idea then came to Mazarin’s mind, who smiled to Nancy.
“I was in fact thinking seriously about recalling him to me but had not had the chance yet to do so. Maybe you could pass that message to d’Artagnan in person, Lady Nancy?”
That suggestion brought a splendid smile to her face that warmed up Mazarin.
“That is a nice idea indeed, Your Eminence. I will leave for Paris at once.”
“Please,” replied Mazarin, gently stopping her from turning around and leaving, “at least let me provide you with some provisions for the road before you go. The roads are both uncomfortable and dangerous these days, especially when traveling with a small baby like you do. It would also allow me to prepare a letter for Monsieur d’Artagnan for you to carry.”
Nancy bowed again at those words.
“In that case I will be happy to delay a bit my departure, Your Eminence.”
“The pleasure is mine, Lady Nancy. Please follow me to my apartments.”
Her basket in one hand, Nancy followed the Cardinal through the lobby, then up the stairs towards the main apartments of the castle. Mazarin stopped for a moment in the middle of the stairs to pass directives to a servant apparently in his employ, ordering him to prepare a large food basket for Nancy’s trip before resuming his way to his apartments. Before they could get there they met in the hallway young King Louis, who was escorted by two valets. Wearing a large felt hat with his court outfit, young Louis beamed with joy at the sight of Nancy and went to her at once as she curtsied respectfully to him.
“Lady Nancy, it is a pleasure to see you here. Did you just arrive?”
“I did, Your Majesty. However, I am leaving at once for Paris to go fetch Monsieur d’Artagnan there.”
“But you are coming back here, are you?” Replied Louis, hiding his disappointment. Nancy smiled to him, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Of course, Your Majesty! I wouldn’t want to miss a chance to tell you more stories about New France.”
“That would be appreciated, Lady Nancy.” Said Louis with a big grin before looking down at the basket she held. “And may I presume that this is your baby from…”
Nancy urgently motioned him to stop speaking then, whispering next to him.
“Please don’t say the name of the father, Your Majesty: I wish it to be a secret for all others but you, the Queen and the Cardinal.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for my indiscretion. I will keep mum about that from now on. Is it a boy or a girl?”
“A boy, Your Majesty. His name is Charles.”
Bending forward, the young King caressed briefly the head of the sleeping baby, then smiled back to Nancy.
“I wish your son the best in life, Lady Nancy. I will be waiting your return from Paris with impatience.”
“I will make haste on my trip, Your Majesty.” Promised Nancy, curtsying again. Louis then walked away, letting Mazarin free to lead her into his apartments. Inviting her to sit down on a chair, Mazarin then sat at his work desk and scribbled quickly a letter. Nancy used that time to give her right breast to her baby son, who had just awakened with a hungry wail. Little Charles was still happily sucking milk when Mazarin finished his letter and folded the parchment. He eyed for a moment Nancy with her breast denuded, then spoke quietly in order not to upset her baby.
“Your trip may be quite dangerous, Lady Nancy. You may very well have to go through the armies of the Duke D’Orléans and of the Prince of Condé between here and Paris. Those armies employ many foreign mercenaries who wouldn’t mind having fun with a pretty girl traveling alone. God knows that looting and raping are too frequent occurrences right now in our poor France.”
Nancy eyed Mazarin cautiously, restraining herself in extremis from remarking to him that the 7,000 mercenaries he had brought with him had also looted and raped their way to Poitiers. Whoever was in charge in France, it seemed that it was always the poor people who paid the price of those struggling to gain or keep power. In answer to Mazarin’s warning, Nancy opened her cape wide, showing him the two pistols and the dagger holstered around her belt.
“I am well aware of the dangers, Your Eminence. I am however ready to face them and am most familiar about how to deal with such situations. Let’s say that I lead a most adventurous life compared to a normal girl. If I meet those Fronde armies I will make sure to keep my eyes open and to note everything of worth.”
Mazarin nodded his head once, secretly impressed by her aplomb. Here was a teenage girl who, if he could believe all the stories he had heard about her, was at least as valiant, efficient and dangerous as his own d’Artagnan. As a spy, she indeed represented a priceless asset for the royal service.
“Lady Nancy, have you touched any part of your annual pension yet since you were ennobled last September?”
“No, Your Eminence. I had to leave the Palais-Royal soon afterwards and keep a low profile from then on, for d’Artagnan’s sake.”
Mazarin thought over that for a moment, then took another piece of parchment and wrote something on it, then went to a large, solid-looking chest and unlocked it with a key he took from inside his cardinal’s robe. Pulling out a heavy leather purse, he poured its content on his desk and counted out a goodly number of large gold coins before putting them in a separate purse. He then signaled Nancy to join him at his desk, which she did, still breastfeeding her baby. Giving her the second purse, he presented as well a pen to her and the parchment.
“Here are 4,500 Livres, representing the first six months of your annual pension. Sign this receipt here, please.”
Nancy signed quickly, giving back the pen and the parchment to Mazarin, then weighed the purse with apparent remorse.
“I don’t know if I really deserve all that gold when I think of all the dangers my brave d’Artagnan is going through constantly.”
Mazarin grinned at those words and started counting more gold pieces on his desk.
“This is the nicest way I was ever remembered of how miserly as an employer I can be, Lady Nancy. D’Artagnan and his companions in Paris have indeed worked diligently for my cause during all those months, so I will ask you to bring them their pay at the same time. Here are 600 Livres I owe to D’Artagnan, plus 600 Livres each to Messieurs De Dalleville, Bartet and Hughes de Terlon.”
Mazarin put that money in yet another purse and gave it to Nancy, then eyed her gravely.
“You are now even more of a tempting target for Fronde soldiers, Lady Nancy. Please be careful during your trip.”
“I will shoot my way through if need be, Your Eminence, but nothing will keep me from seeing my d’Artagnan.” Said firmly Nancy, meaning each word. Someone then knocked on the door, prompting Mazarin to call him to enter. That someone turned out to be a servant, carrying a large covered basket of food. Thanking and dismissing him, Mazarin then got up and put a hand on Nancy’s head, who had bowed to him.
“May God be with you and your son on your trip, Marquess of Saint-Laurent. I will pray for your safe return.”
“Thank you, Your Eminence. I should be back in three weeks with d’Artagnan.”
Grabbing the basket of food as well as the basket containing her baby and the two purses full of gold, Nancy then left the Cardinal’s apartments. Mazarin went to a window and watched her get back to her cart, putting inside it both of her baskets and the purses, hiding the latter under a blanket before untying her horse and sitting in the front of the cart. Urging her horse on, she was soon out of the courtyard and on her way along the road to Tours, Orléans and Paris. Mazarin couldn’t help reflect then on how many good people this civil war had cost France already. He frankly hated the thought that this young girl could become part of the mounting number of casualties.
11:06 (Paris Time)
Friday, July 5, 1652
22 kilometers south-southwest of Vendôme
Nancy, doing good time thanks to the tireless pace of her robotic horse Pegasus, was over a day past the city of Tours and was hoping to make it to the town of Vendôme for the night, so that she would not expose her baby boy to a night out. Up to now the road traffic had been light but had stopped completely since she had left in the morning the small town of Château-Renault, something that made her suspect that trouble lay ahead. She was proven right when she turned a bend of the narrow road, in reality a glorified dirt trail, and was suddenly faced with a dispersed group of over forty dead men lying in and around the road. Nancy stopped at once her cart and surveyed visually the bodies and the woods around her, her heart beating faster. The dead men, wearing what had not been looted from their uniforms, were apparently soldiers from the royal army. Seeing no movement around and not hearing any suspicious noise, Nancy discreetly pulled her blunderbuss scatter gun closer to her, hiding it under her seat, then pulled out an extra pistol from her well-stocked arsenal and hid it as well under her seat before urging Pegasus forward. She would have jumped out to at least pull out of the way the few bodies lying across the road but was afraid that this could turn into an ambush and was not ready to risk her son for this. She made Pegasus zigzag in order to avoid trampling any of the bodies, then urged it on to a fast trot, in a hurry to get away from this spot.
Her fears materialized three kilometers further down the road, when a mounted patrol of seven soldiers wearing the colors of the Duke of Orléans appeared ahead of her, turning a bend of the road. Something in the soldiers’ attitude alarmed at once Nancy, who forced herself to keep going on at the same rhythm despite her misgivings. She soon understood what had awakened her suspicions when the soldiers galloped to meet her cart, then surrounded it, forcing her to stop: they were obviously half-drunk, apart from being unshaven and unkempt. They looked and sounded like the dregs of an army and acted like it as well. Their leader, who was holding a sword, pointed it at Nancy while shouting joyously to his men.
“LOOK WHAT PROVIDENCE HAS BROUGHT TO US: A FINE LOOKING GIRL TO AMUSE US!”
Nancy tensed further, knowing that she would not be able to avoid a fight now if she wanted to live and protect her son. Still, she tried one attempt at keeping the situation calm, feigning fear while staying on the driver’s bench of her cart.
“Please, sir, I am only trying to join back my husband in Paris and have my baby son with me.”
That only made the leading cavalryman scoff at her.
“A baby, eh? Good! Then you have some experience in bed. If you are really nice with us we will let you and your baby go away safely afterwards. Right, men?”
His question made his six men laugh out loud, showing to Nancy the worth of his promise. Thankfully for her, four of the men, including their leader, stood in a loose group to her left front, while two more stood to her front right and a last one stood behind her cart. They had pistols, swords and muskets but had only their swords out at this time, except for one man behind the leader who was holding a pistol. Taking the initiative while the soldiers were laughing as a group, Nancy pulled out her blunderbuss scatter gun and discharged it in the middle of the group of four men to her front left. The loud blast and the cloud of white smoke made the surviving soldiers stop their laughing abruptly as three men and two of their horses fell down, with a fourth man crying out in pain while holding his left upper arm. Not letting the other soldiers a chance to recover from their surprise, Nancy pulled out the two pistols at her belt and shot down the two men to her front right, then quickly grabbed her spare pistol from under her bench and stood on her feet while turning around. She shot the last soldier as he was trying still to pull his own pistol out. That left the one wounded soldier to her front left. Looking back around, she saw that one galloping away while still holding his arm. Sitting back down, she urged Pegasus to full gallop, intent on finishing the man off before he could get more soldiers on her. Nancy patted gently the head of little Charles, who was now crying after being awakened brutally by the detonations.
“I’m sorry about that, Charles. Be patient and I will take care of you soon.”
Pulling another loaded pistol from her reserve while holding the reins, Nancy then waited for Pegasus to overtake the soldier’s horse, which didn’t take long. As soon as the man was less than ten paces from her she shot him down, hitting him between the shoulder blades and dropping him from his horse. She didn’t bother to check on him, instead continuing on at a full gallop along the road towards Vendôme. Using the fact that Pegasus could go on by himself without supervision, Nancy used the next minutes to reload frantically her four pistols and her blunderbuss, hiding or holstering them back afterwards, then grabbed her baby and hugged it, trying to calm him with soothing words. It was only a question of time before more soldiers appeared to investigate the shooting she had done.
Nancy felt her heart sink when a strong column of over a hundred cavalrymen appeared five minutes later on the road, galloping towards her: there was no way that she could deal with so many soldiers. Subtlety was thus the order of the day now. While dressed in different uniforms from the ones she had killed, they were still recognizable as men of the Duke of Orléans. Slowing down her cart, Nancy started waiving frantically at the incoming soldiers, which were led by an officer, while shouting at them.
“THERE ARE ROYAL SOLDIERS BEHIND ME. THEY KILLED A GROUP OF FRONDE SOLDIERS.”
Seeing the officer slowing down his horse as she approached him, Nancy pulled on the reins and made Pegasus stop, then shouted again excitedly at the officer.
“A HALF DOZEN FRONDE SOLDIERS WERE JUST KILLED THREE MILES BEHIND ME BY A LARGE GROUP OF ROYAL SOLDIERS HIDING IN THE FOREST! I SAW THE WHOLE THING!”
“Three miles away you say, mademoiselle?” Asked urgently the officer after tipping his hat to her. Nancy made a show of looking frightened, as if she had just run for her life.
“That is correct, monsieur! The shooting happened less than 300 paces behind my cart. Those Fronde soldiers never stood a chance, as there must have been over sixty royal soldiers.”
“Sixty? It must be a raiding party intent on cutting our lines of communications.”
The officer then looked back at his men while waiving his sword high.
“FOLLOW ME, MEN! BE READY FOR ACTION!”
Nancy stood on her bench to watch the cavalry troop gallop away while shouting encouragement at them, then saying in a low voice one word once all of them were well past her.
“Suckers!”
She took place back on the bench at once and grabbed the reins to urge Pegasus to a gallop. As Pegasus accelerated along the road, Nancy made sure that little Charles was secure in his basket behind her driving bench, as the ride was going to be both rough and furious for a while. She ended up holding in place the basket with one hand while holding the reins in the other hand and with both of her feet braced solidly in the footrests as the cart nearly flew over the road. For a good six kilometers Nancy could have swore that Pegasus pulled the small cart up to speeds of sixty kilometers per hour. She finally ordered her robotic horse to slow down as she spotted a narrow trail ahead and to the right. She made Pegasus veer on the trail and follow it at a relatively slow speed for about 400 meters. Seeing a particularly thick patch of coniferous trees to her left, she drove her cart to the middle of the patch and stopped it, then jumped out and hurriedly cut off branches with her sword to camouflage her cart, as the cavalrymen she had fooled were liable to get information about her from one of the soldiers she had shot, if any of them had survived. Finally done, she returned inside her cart and pulled her crying son from his basket. She then gave Charles her left breast to suck on. Her baby grew quiet nearly at once, allowing her to relax somewhat. While her baby fed itself, she used one hand to open her provisions basket and ate as well, chewing on a piece of cheese and washing it down with water that she had filtered and boiled before pouring it in her water flask.
Maybe forty minutes later, she heard a troop of cavalrymen approaching from the South on the main road at high speed and guessed that the Fronde officer had learned that she and not royal soldiers had shot the seven-man patrol and was now after her. That was worrying for her, as it meant that this officer, if he didn’t catch her himself, was liable to pass the word about her to other Fronde officers in the area. This was going to force her to travel by night for the next day or two, in order to use to the fullest the technological advantage she enjoyed over present day soldiers thanks to the sophisticated sensors of her robotic horse, who could ride around in total darkness without difficulty. She was also going to need to change her itinerary a bit in order to take some distance from this area. After consulting a crude contemporary map, she decided to proceed towards the city of Blois and then Orléans instead of Vendôme. Her baby then made a noise which was followed by a smell that announced to Nancy that it was time for a diaper change. She smiled to her son and kissed him tenderly on the forehead.
“I wish at times that I had a life as simple as yours, my sweat Charles. Milk, poop and sleep: can’t get simpler than that, eh?”
15:14 (Paris Time)
Wednesday, July 10, 1652
Faubourg St-Jacques, Paris
A Fronde officer stopped Nancy’s cart with a sign of the hand as she got to the checkpoint established in the southern suburbs of Paris, then asked her a question in a bored voice.
“What is your reason for coming to Paris, mademoiselle?”
Nancy, wearing a blond wig and dressed in a poor peasant girl’s dress, patted the wicker basket besides her on the bench of her cart while looking at the officer.
“I’m here for a paternity affair, monsieur. My no-good fiancé believed that he could escape his responsibilities by fleeing to Paris, so I came to grab him back or, failing that, to make him pay a pension for my son.”
The officer looked with amusement at the baby in the basket, then laughed out loud before signaling to Nancy to pass.
“Have a good luck with your fiancé, mademoiselle, and have a good day.”
“Thank you, monsieur.” Said Nancy with a big smile before urging on Pegasus. Driving slowly through the checkpoint, she then went towards the Seine River, crossing it over the Pont de la Tournelle and passing through the Island of St-Louis before crossing the Pont Marie and rolling on the North Shore. It then took her less than thirty minutes to arrive at the Inn of Le Lion Noir. The sight of the inn made Nancy’s heart beat faster and she guided her horse into the courtyard of the establishment, where a stable boy grabbed the bridle of her horse to lead it into a stall of the stable. Nancy threw a silver coin to the boy and gave him a smile.
“Would you be kind enough to help me with my things before taking care of my horse?”
“Sure, mademoiselle!” Said the boy, pocketing quickly the coin and then grabbing two big bags Nancy was pulling out of the cart. Nancy herself carried the rest of her things and her baby, with her weapons hidden inside her bedroll. On entering the main hall of the inn, the innkeeper saw her full hands and called at once a servant to come help her. She grinned to the innkeeper as the servant took most of her things save for her bedroll and her baby basket.
“Thank you, monsieur, you are too kind. Do you have a room available?”
The man hesitated then and eyed her carefully, recognizing her voice. He then understood who she was and played dumb.
“Of course, mademoiselle! For how long would you like to take it?”
“I am not sure yet. Maybe a few days at the most. I have to find someone in Paris.”
“A few days it will be, mademoiselle. You can pay the room once you had a chance to get all your things upstairs. Gilles, show the mademoiselle to room sixteen on the second floor.”
“Yes, boss!”
Making a show of helping her as well, the innkeeper took her bedroll from her and went upstairs as well, whispering to her as they were in the staircase.
“Monsieur d’Artagnan should be back in the inn for supper, mademoiselle. Should I announce you to him when he comes?”
“That won’t be necessary: I will wait for him downstairs during supper time.”
The innkeeper looked down at her baby and grinned to it.
“Your baby is really cute, mademoiselle. He certainly looks well fed too.”
“I’ve got lots of reserves for him.” Joked Nancy while grabbing her breasts, making the innkeeper laugh.
“That you do!”
They soon arrived at the room assigned to her and dropped her things there. The innkeeper, knowing her habits, smiled to her as she sat with a sigh on the bed.
“The usual hot bath, mademoiselle?”
“Damn right, monsieur! I just had a ten-day trip from Poitiers and feel grubby as hell.”
“Then it won’t be long, mademoiselle.” Promised the innkeeper. Before he could go, Nancy dropped four gold coins in his hand.
“Make sure that neither me nor Monsieur d’Artagnan and his friend stay hungry for the next day or two.”
“Understood, mademoiselle.” Said the happy man before leaving. Nancy used the time it took for a wooden bathtub to be brought in and filled with warm water to unpack and put her things away. Once her bath was ready, she locked her door, undressed herself and her baby and stepped into the tub with him. Washing her two month-old baby proved half of the fun, with little Charles giggling in the process and filling Nancy with pride. Once her baby was clean, Nancy wrapped him in a thick wool towel and laid him besides the tub in order to finish her own washing. She felt much better by the time she stepped out of the tub and dried herself. She put on a clean peasant’s dress supplemented by a wool cape and a linen cap over her blond wig, then put a clean diaper on her son before dressing him in a baby shirt and returning him to his padded basket. Lastly, she put her pistol belt on, hiding it under her cape, then went downstairs with her infant.
Taking a corner table in a dark part of the main hall, Nancy ordered the soup of the day, a chicken and vegetable broth, and a beef stew, plus a pitcher of red wine. It was not that she liked to drink wine all the time but drinking the water of the time was one sure way to become seriously sick quickly, so one drank either beer, wine or cider. Once she had eaten her meal, little Charles got to be breast-fed under the cover of her cape. Nancy was still nursing him when d’Artagnan walked in with Bartet, Dalleville and de Terlon. Hiding her joy, Nancy lowered her head so that they wouldn’t recognize her too fast and waited patiently while the innkeeper went to the four men and spoke in whispers to d’Artagnan. The latter still couldn’t help snap his head in her direction, a happy grin appearing on his face, but managed not to shout his joy, instead walking to her and sitting opposite her at her table. He then gently raised her chin with one hand, looking into her green eyes. She smile in turn and spoke softly.
“Hello, Charles. It was a long time. I have your son Charles with me here.”
She opened a bit her cape to let him see her baby, who was still sucking milk. D’Artagnan, now 39 but still as fit and handsome as ever, gently caressed the baby’s head before bending over and kissing Nancy, who returned the favor. D’Artagnan had tears in his eyes when they parted.
“God, I missed you so much, Nancy.”
“And I missed you too, Charles. Go have supper with your friends, then come see me in room sixteen, the four of you. I have something from your master for you. By the way, I already paid the innkeeper for your supper.”
D’Artagnan grinned at that and pressed her right hand gently.
“You always think of everything, Nancy. I don’t know what I would be without you.”
“Without me you would still be the most famous musketeer in history, Charles.”
D’Artagnan nodded somberly at that, remembering his fantastic trip to the year 1954.
“Well, I will see you after supper. That shouldn’t take long.”
“Take all your time, my love: we have all night after all.”
Those words made d’Artagnan grin with anticipated pleasure. He then got up and went to the table taken by his three comrades. Nancy was next to get up with her baby, going upstairs to her room. She had to wait only a half hour before someone knocked at her door. Always cautious, she grabbed a pistol before going to the door and asking who was there, then opened it on recognizing d’Artagnan’s voice. The latter and his three comrades quickly filed in the room, with Nancy locking the door behind them. Her next move was to give to d’Artagnan the letter from the Cardinal. D’Artagnan read it carefully, then looked gravely at his comrades.
“Friends, the Cardinal needs our services with him in Poitiers, where the King and his court have temporarily established themselves. With the Prince of Condé now in Bordeaux and with the Paris Parliament now mostly neutral in the Fronde, the Cardinal judges that our talents are now wasted here. We are to move to Poitiers as soon as possible.”