TEMPORAL AGENT by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 4 – RETURN TO PARIS

 

19:47 (Paris Time)

Friday, July 28, 1651

Inn of ‘Le Lion Noir’

Paris, France

Isaac Bartet, seeing d’Artagnan again glance towards the entrance door of their Inn as an old man entered the main hall, grinned to his friend Hughes De Terlon, another agent of Cardinal Mazarin in Paris, who was drinking wine with him and D’Artagnan at their table.

“I am starting to wonder why Charles is looking constantly towards the door. Is he worried about parliamentary militiamen showing up or is he expecting his ‘Belle’?”

“From what I saw of his Nancy, I would say that he can’t live without her.” said De Terlon with amusement in his voice.”

“Well, she is quite an exceptional girl.” conceded Charles Ogier de Batz de Castelmore, a.k.a. d’Artagnan, before taking another sip of his wine. That only made his two companions more curious, with De Terlon lowering his voice as he looked at Charles.

“So, what do you really know about that girl?”

Charles answered at once, having full confidence in the young aristocrat.

“Well, apart from being one beautiful girl, which you noticed already, she is very well educated and speaks, reads and writes an amazing number of languages, including English, Latin, Greek and German. She also rides like an expert and can fight at least as well as me. You will also find her surprisingly strong for a girl.”

“She sounds like one of the fabled Amazons, whom the Duchess of Orléans always dream of emulating.”

Hugues’ reply made Charles snicker in derision.

“The Grande Mademoiselle, an Amazon? Let me laugh! At least she had enough heart to refuse to watch as Nancy was being tortured in the Bastille. She then went to warn the King about it. Nancy told me that she even tried to convince the Duchess of Longueville not to have her questioned. Despite all the trouble she is giving to the Queen, I suppose that I owe her a thank you in a way for that. That is…”

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Charles then stopped speaking in mid-sentence, his eyes fixed on the entrance door and a happy smile appearing on his face. Hughes and Isaac turned their heads at once towards the door as the rest of the customers in the main hall also fell silent and stared at the tall teenage girl who had just entered. She was dressed most unusually for a girl, wearing tight-fitting black tights with knee-high black leather boots and a white silk shirt partially covered by a short-sleeved brown leather jacket. The jacket was closed around her lower torso by laces which pushed up her already impressive chest, which was partly visible thanks to the opened top of the shirt. Her generous hips, long legs and long silky black hair falling down to her waist only added to her sexiness. She did not wear a hat but had a sort of leather headband decorated with colored stitching. A wide leather belt around her waist supported a belt purse, a sword, a dagger, a powder horn and a pair of pistols, while a pair of large saddle bags and a long leather carbine scabbard were slung over her left shoulder. Ignoring the stares from the customers, she went to the service counter and addressed the innkeeper, who was all but devouring her with his eyes from behind the counter.

“Could I have a room for one, please?” She said in perfect French.

“Uh, of course, mademoiselle.” said the innkeeper, having caught the wink she had given him. He certainly remembered her, as she had spent months already in his inn, departing only a few weeks ago. He also knew that she was helping d’Artagnan, being himself part of Cardinal Mazarin’s network of agents in Paris. Opening his registry book and grabbing a feather and a bottle of ink, he then looked back at the girl.

“May I have your name, mademoiselle?”

“Lady Nancy Sommers.” answered calmly the teenager. “I am planning to stay for a week. Could I have a bath prepared as well in my room?” D’Artagnan grinned widely on hearing that: one full week of tasting Nancy’s charms. He waited until she started going up the stairs behind the innkeeper, then got up from his bench and excused himself with his two friends before going upstairs as well.

Nancy waited until the innkeeper had opened the door of her room and given her the key to it, then going back down, before discreetly inviting Charles in. Closing and locking the door behind him, she let drop her saddlebags and exchanged a long, hungry kiss with him. They finally parted and looked into each other’s eyes.

“Damn, I really missed you, Nancy!”

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“And I could only dream of you, Charles. As soon as we can take a bath, I will show you how I missed you.”

“You really believe in this cleanliness thing, do you?” said Charles, amused, making her smile with malice.

“Don’t you find that being clean makes certain things more agreeable, Charles?”

“True!” replied Charles, thinking back at some of their past love sessions. “So, what are you doing in Paris this time?”

“I came to bring some funds to Queen Henriette and her retinue. And you, are you still going to and from Germany as a messenger?”

“Less often now. I mainly keep to Paris these days…which means that we will be able to enjoy each other freely this week.”

“I find nothing wrong with that, Charles.” replied Nancy with a big grin. A knock on the door was then followed by the voice of the innkeeper.

“Lady Sommers, your bath is here.”

Nancy unlocked the door at once, letting in the innkeeper and a maid, who were carrying a wooden bath tub. Isaac Bartet and Hughes De Terlon were right behind, each carrying two buckets of warm water and grinning like idiots. Charles waived a finger at them at once.

“Even if you brought the water doesn’t mean that you can stay and watch.”

“But, what about our motto: all for one and one for all?”

“That doesn’t include Nancy.”

Nancy giggled at that exchange and, with the innkeeper and the maid already gone, pushed the door closed behind Bartet and De Terlon.

“Come on, Charles! You know that you are the one that counts for me. At least let them see what they missed on, so that you can put it on their noses afterwards.”

“Well, if you put it that way, I suppose that I wouldn’t mind turning the knife in their guts from time to time.”

“Spoken like a real friend, Charles.” said sarcastically Isaac while pouring the water of his two buckets in the tub. Nancy took off her large belt while the bathtub was being filled, then unlaced her jacket and took it off as well. Isaac and Hughes swallowed hard when she started dancing slowly on the spot while humming a tune and taking off her shirt, ending topless. Hughes however felt sorrow as well as lust as he was then able to see the faint traces from burns and whip lashes around her torso. Nancy slowly stripped completely, making all three men become horny as hell. She then danced her

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way to them before brushing lightly her breasts against each man. By then Hughes was nearly mad with desire, at which time Nancy stopped abruptly her dance and smiled to him and Isaac.

“Sorry guys: that’s all for you two tonight.”

“Arrgh! You would make any man crazy, Nancy.” said Hughes.

“And it is one effective way to gain information if need be. Now, out!” Charles laughed at the faces made by his two companions as they reluctantly left the room. Once the door was locked, he also undressed and joined Nancy in the small bath tub, smiling to her as they ended up sitting face to face with knees bent.

“I hope that you don’t do that to all the men you meet, Nancy.”

“Only to the ones I like.” she replied before giggling at the face he did then.

09:36 (Paris Time)

Saturday, July 29, 1651

Palace of Le Louvre

Paris

Nancy, wearing a riding outfit quite similar to the one she had on yesterday, felt satisfaction at the end of her short visit to Queen Henriette-Marie of England and her small retinue. The gold that she had brought for the widow of King Charles the First actually represented little to the Time Patrol, which had easy access to countless so-called ‘lost treasures’ and to gold bullion reserves lost after the nuclear holocaust of 2052 ‘A’. The 10,000 Sterling Pounds worth of gold coins and gems she had just brought to Henriette-Marie would however go a long way to sustain the Queen’s retinue and prevent them from starving during their exile in Paris. Such largely anonymous charitable works like this one and the social foundation she was planning to found in Paris as Jeanne D’Orléans in the mid-nineteenth century were one of the things she liked most about her job as a field agent of the Time Patrol. While representing very little risk to the integrity of history if well planned, acts of charity through time did a lot to render life livable to many unfortunate and anonymous souls worthy of help.

Nancy exited the mostly empty palace of Le Louvre from its western side and started walking slowly through the large royal gardens called ‘Jardin des Tuileries’, apparently admiring the gardens. In reality, as she was trained to do as a field agent,

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she was making sure that nobody was following her. Being a wide expanse with few people going through it and with most of the vegetation being cut low, the gardens were ideal for counter-surveillance. By the time that she was about to exit the gardens Nancy was certain that a tall man in a gray cape and large black hat was following her. The man was obviously a professional and was doing all that he could to stay discreet. That and his style of clothes made Nancy dismiss the idea that he could be a spy sent by the Duchesse de Longueville. The men of the Duchesse had been a lot more amateurish than this man and also wore a distinct set of clothes. Another, more probable possibility was that the present man was an agent of the enemies of King Charles II of England, meaning Oliver Cromwell and his parliamentarians. His drab clothes would indeed fit with the Puritan fashion favored by Cromwell’s followers. Now ready for anything, Nancy left the gardens through a north side gate and soon turned right on Rue Saint Honoré, heading in the general direction of her inn. The man in the gray cape and black hat was now following her from closer, using the dense pedestrian and cart traffic to the most to hide from her. Choosing her time carefully, Nancy waited until she turned a corner which momentarily put her out of sight of her follower, then stepped inside the first deserted passageway she walked by and went into phase shift, using her implanted time distorter. Now surrounded by her own bubble of time that was a thousand times faster than the time others around her lived into, she disappeared from sight and was able to backtrack out of the passageway and take a hidden observation position behind a parked heavy chariot. Before going out of phase shift, Nancy also took off and reversed her own travel cape, changing its outer color from burgundy red to a common beige.

As she had expected, her follower hesitated when he turned the street corner and didn’t see her on the street. Searching cautiously at first, then more frantically, the man finally gave up with a gesture of frustration after racing to the next street corner and still not seeing her. He then did as Nancy had hoped for and retraced his steps at a normal walking pace, either to resume his surveillance of the palace of Le Louvre or to go report to someone else. Nancy followed him in turn by performing short phase shifts which allowed her to watch him from positions ahead of him, a method called ‘forward trailing’ that was very hard to detect by the intended target. Nancy’s luck kept true, with the tall man leading her to a house block occupied by three-story buildings subdivided into rented apartments and small shops. Following the man inside one of the buildings was trickier, though. She had to use a short series of phase shifts to evade the attention

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of the man, who was proving to be a dangerous professional indeed. By now she knew that the man had at least a sword under his cape and possibly a pistol as well. Nancy saw him eventually knock on a door of the second floor according to an obvious signal code, then enter and close the door. Intent on planting a discreet spying probe against the bottom sill of the door, she walked quietly to the door and was about to bend to place the probe when the door opened unexpectedly. The man who had opened the door wasn’t the one who had followed her but he still froze in alarm as he found himself face to face with Nancy. She also saw in a flash her follower sitting near a window before her combat instincts took over. The man at the door was grabbing for a pistol in his belt when Nancy flashed her hand up and touched his forehead, sending a stun jolt via the stun mechanism implanted in her hand. The man jerked once and then collapsed in a heap in front of her. The noise of his fall made the man at the window turn around as Nancy hurriedly closed the door behind her.

“YOU?” said the man in English, both stunned and furious. He then went for his sword as Nancy charged him. A sweeping sidekick from Nancy made the sword fly through the room before he could use it. Showing the moves and expertise of a trained fighter, the man managed to block Nancy’s first punch and swung back at her but she in turn was able to duck under his swing and countered by sweeping sideways with one leg, tripping the man and making him fall hard on his back. He rolled out of the way at once and jumped back on his feet before Nancy had the chance to jump on him. With both of them now facing each other in a combat stance, the man eyed her with interest.

“You are good, girl, I will give you that. Who trained you?” he said in English with a distinct London accent.

“My big sister.” answered Nancy, grinning. That made a hateful look appear in his eyes.

“Witches! How typical of heretics to use a pair of them.”

The man then advanced on her in a boxing stance and delivered a powerful right jab towards her jaw. Nancy, already an advanced black belt in Juko, a mixed martial art developed by Nancy ‘A’, again ducked under his swing at the same time as she hit him with all her strength on the plexus with the flat of her hand. His breath taken away, the man bent forward with his mouth open, trying to get some air back in his lungs. Nancy then finished him with a chop of the right hand to the jugular, sending him crashing down on the floor. With her two opponents now knocked out, Nancy used the sheets of the two beds in the room to tie up and gag them. She then wondered for a moment what to

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do with them. From what her last opponent had said, she was now quite certain that they were English agents sent by Oliver Cromwell or one of his lieutenants. Their mission was too obvious: to spy on the family and followers of King Charles II and, possibly, assassinate them if feasible. From the window of their room they had a good view of the Louvre Palace and of its main entrance and could thus watch who came to visit Queen Henriette-Marie. Searching thoroughly the two men and then the room, Nancy could find no compromising paper, which didn’t surprise her: professional spies would not go around with documents that could have them hanged…or worse. The men were however well armed and had plenty of money, denoting possibly a long mission in France, which would jive with a surveillance operation. That, however, still left her with the problem of what to do with the two men. Transporting them to the future or the past was out of the question: they couldn’t be allowed to learn about time travel. Killing them would be a possible option but one that she found most unsavory.

She was still weighing her options when the taller man surprised her by waking up much earlier than expected. That man was decidedly in a class apart as a dangerous opponent. Dragging quickly the man lying by the door, who would certainly not wake up for another forty minutes at the least because of the jolt of stun energy he had received, Nancy dumped him over the tied legs of her follower, then sat across his chest, her weight pressing painfully on his tied arms and hands behind his back. Once fully conscious, the man threw her a hateful look like only a religious fanatic could throw. Nancy lowered his gag then and looked down coldly into the man’s eyes.

“What is your name?”

“Go to hell, witch!”

“Why were you following me?” asked Nancy, already knowing the answer to that but wanting to gauge the mindset of that man. His spiteful response said enough to her.

“Screw you! I won’t tell you anything!”

“Alright, you want to die an anonymous death? That could be arranged easily. Who would miss two anonymous Englishmen who would be found dead in a Paris rented room? I doubt that Cromwell would create a diplomatic incident over the disappearance of the two of you.”

“He has…” started to say the man before catching himself up. That was however enough to make Nancy smile.

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“So, you do work for that ignorant bigot. How typical of him to try to assassinate a widowed woman and her small daughter. You Puritans claim to possess the only true Christian faith, yet massacre whole populations simply because they are of another denomination. Jesus Christ would have been disgusted by your hypocrisy and cruelty.” Her religious jab seemed to touch home, as the man wiggled vigorously for a few seconds, apparently enraged.

“You and your likes will all burn in Hell, where you belong.” Nancy then couldn’t hide anymore her revulsion towards him and stared hard into his eyes while speaking in a frigid voice.

“For me, someone who is ready to kill indiscriminately men, women and children on the simple pretext that he or she holds the only valid belief is the one worthy of Hell. You want to die as an anonymous spy? Then that is what you will end up like.” Covering with her left hand the man’s mouth, Nancy then drew her dagger and drove its blade deep in the man’s neck in one merciless move. Barely nineteen years ago from this present year her fourth previous incarnation, that of a German mercenary chieftain called Karl Beck, had died of the Black Plague near Hamburg after helping to spread terror and death during the infamous Thirty Years War. Karl Beck, while being an outstanding soldier in terms of professional skills, had also been one of her darker incarnations. For a moment, Nancy felt like being Karl Beck as she killed in cold blood both men in the room. The worst part was that, even once up and about to leave, she simply could not feel any remorse about killing those men. Nancy ‘A’ had felt the same way as she had killed the sadistic guards of the Nazi concentration camps and of the Japanese prisoners of war camps in 1942. Thinking about it, Nancy found the analogy valid: the Nazis had killed in the name of their supposed racial superiority, while the Japanese had abused and killed their prisoners in the name of their military code of honor. As for Cromwell’s Puritans, they were murdering thousands of Irish Catholics simply because they believed that they possessed the only true faith. Such religious intolerance and bigotry would even cross the Atlantic Ocean and end up in North America, resulting among other things into the infamous Salem witch trials. Having first carefully wiped clean her blade, Nancy then threw the hood of her cape over her head and left the room, closing the door and calmly walking away.

22:51 (Paris Time)

Inn of ‘Le Lion Noir’

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“Nancy?”

“Yes, Charles?” replied softly Nancy to d’Artagnan, who was lying in bed with her, his front pressing against her back and with one hand cupping her right breast.

“I truly want to marry you. You are too unique a girl to let go.” Turning around in the bed to face him, Nancy caressed his chest with one hand while staring into his eyes. She could see that he was dead serious and meant what he said.

“Charles, I…the truth is that, while I do love you deeply, I do not have full control of my destiny. I have friends and comrades I have sworn to help and assist and also have obligations that I cannot neglect. I am a lot like you, who is in the service of the Cardinal and of the Queen and have to pass your duty in front of your personal life. Thank you for asking again: it honors me greatly.”

Charles sighed, a bit disappointed but not surprised by her answer. He did try one last argument, though.

“You could transfer your allegiance to France and serve the Queen and King, like I do. I am sure that King Charles II of England would let you go.” His attempts at convincing her broke Nancy’s heart: if she would have been a girl from this time period, she would have said yes to him in an instant. With tears in her eyes and with her voice shaking with emotion, she spoke in a near whisper.

“Charles, you have a destiny to follow, a destiny where I couldn’t fit as your official wife. As for King Charles, he is not the one holding my destiny.”

“Can you tell me more about you, Nancy? What is so important that it would force you to refuse to marry me?”

“Duty and a vow of secrecy.” Nancy answered with difficulty before starting to sob, her head against his chest. Her words actually meant something to d’Artagnan, who had lived all his life according to three words: duty, loyalty and honor.

‘’I am sorry to have pushed you about this. I promise not to ask again.’’ He exchanged a long kiss with her, then looked back into her eyes.

“Are you sure that you want to stay only a week in Paris, Nancy?” His soft tone and pleading eyes were enough to convince Nancy, who had to swallow the lump in her throat.

“I will stay with you for a month and then leave. I promise you that I will come back to France as soon as possible.”

They kissed again, with Charles sighing afterwards while still holding Nancy.

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“Nancy De Batz de Castelmore…it would have made a fine name for you.”

“Charles d’Artagnan will also make a fine name if we have a son together, my love. Let’s try for it tonight.”

“Charles d’Artagnan, I like the sound of it.” replied Charles before coupling again with Nancy.

10:25 (Paris Time)

Thursday, August 10, 1651

Palace of Le Louvre, Paris

Young Princess Henriette-Anne clapped her hands enthusiastically as Nancy finished telling with much gestures a colorful hunting story that had taken place in New France. Sitting around her were her mother, Queen Henriette-Marie, and her small retinue of loyal followers, including young Countess Ann Morton. Nancy enjoyed visiting the English royal family, especially to cheer up and entertain the little princess, with whom she had developed a mutual attachment. Nancy was dressed in a riding outfit and had her pistols and dagger at her belt, as fitted her image of adventuress and teller of wild stories, and was truly having fun at the time. The midget man serving Queen Henriette-Marie suddenly entered, throwing open the double doors of the lounge they were in and announcing a group of new visitors in a loud voice.

“THE QUEEN REGENT AND KING OF FRANCE!”

As everybody in the lounge turned and looked towards the door, Queen Anne of Austria and young King Louis the Fourteenth appeared in the doorway, walking side by side. More French nobles followed behind them, the more important ones immediately announced as well by the midget.

“THE DUKE OF ORLÉANS AND HIS DAUGHTER, THE DUCHESS OF MONTPENSIER!”

Nancy tensed up at once then, seeing that a number of soldiers of the Duke of Orléans were escorting closely the visitors. On her part, the young Anne Marie Louise D’Orléans, Duchess of Montpensier, recognized her instantly and whispered in the ear of her father.

“Father, that woman in black tights and shirt: she’s the girl who was tortured in the Bastille by the men of the Duchess of Longueville three months ago.”

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“Is she?” said Gaston D’Orléans, who was already eyeing Nancy with an interest mixed with instant lust. “I have to say that she looks the part. And she knocked out seven of my men all by herself?”

“Nine, Father!” corrected the Great Mademoiselle while watching Nancy. Queen Henriette-Marie then spoke after rising from her chair, addressing her visitors after performing a curtsy.

“Queen Anne, King Louis, it is truly an honor to have you coming here. To what do I owe you this visit?”

Anne of Austria replied to her in a warm voice, bowing politely her head to Henriette-Marie.

“Your brother, the Duke of Orléans, told us that he was planning to visit you and, since we are getting bored of playing lawn bowling at the Palais-Royal, decided to accompany him and pay you a visit as well.”

“A fine thought, Queen Anne. We were ourselves getting quite bored until young Lady Sommers here started telling us wild and fascinating stories about her native New France.”

‘’Oh, I would love to hear them too!’’ exclaimed young Louis. Gaston D’Orléans smiled at that and came forward to kiss his royal sister on both cheeks, smiling to her and to her retinue and Nancy.

“Well, my dear sister, now that we are in such good company and since King Louis is so eager to hear those stories about New France, why don’t we all sit down and listen to Lady Sommers’ stories?”

Everyone agreed with him and extra chairs were fetched at once, so all could sit together, with Nancy facing them.

Starting with the story of how her father had met her mother in the woods of New France, Nancy spoke with theatrical gestures for a good forty minutes, with her audience listening with intense interest. Very little was known of New France or of the Americas by most people in France in this time period, so she had no need to embellish her stories. Nancy also used from time to time sentences in Huron or Iroquois language, spicing further her performance. She was rewarded at the end by loud applauses from all, including from the Great Mademoiselle, who was looking at her with admiration. Queen Henriette-Marie then invited her to sit with the group and had a cup of wine brought to

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her. Her throat dry from her storytelling, she gladly accepted the cup and took a sip from it. Young King Louis soon came to sit beside her and looked with hope at her.

“Do you think that you could visit the Palais-Royal tonight and tell me more stories, Lady Sommers?”

Nancy smiled down to the teenage boy: Louis XIV was a handsome boy indeed and had a strong personality as well as a sharp intelligence. She also remembered well how he had risked himself to save her from the Bastille.

“That would please me most but it would depend on the approval of your mother, Your Majesty.”

Louis turned his head at once towards Anne of Austria, who smiled sarcastically while eyeing her young, precocious son.

“Louis, are you sure that you are interested in her stories or simply in her?”

“Mother!” protested the boy while giggles went around the audience. Louis XIV was known to be already very interested in the representatives of the female persuasion despite his age of thirteen.

“I will have the legal right to reign in less than a month, Mother. New France will be part of my responsibilities and I know so little about it. Lady Sommers’ stories would constitute a most useful teaching to me.”

“Hmm, put that way, I could see the usefulness of this.” said the Queen Regent thoughtfully. “Our contacts with our colony are effectively quite infrequent. You did say that you visited the English colonies in the New World, Lady Sommers?”

“I effectively visited many times the New England States as well as the Dutch possessions of New Holland, plus of course New France itself, Your Majesty.”

“Then consider yourself my guest tonight, Lady Sommers.” Nancy bowed to her in response.

“You honor me most, Your Majesty. Shall I wear a court dress or my present outfit?”

“I suppose that Louis will find your stories more exciting if you are dressed the part, Lady Sommers. Come as you are. I will expect you at the Palais-Royal around nightfall.”

As she said that, the Queen Regent eyed Gaston D’Orléans, who waved his hands in a jovial gesture while smiling to her.

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“Do not worry about the security of Lady Sommers, Your Majesty. I will personally guarantee the safety of any guest of you or of my dear sister, whom Lady Sommers happens to both be. I have only one word.”

“Thank you, Monsieur.” replied Queen Anne, while Nancy felt a bit less worried now. “Now, I believe that in our eagerness to listen to the stories of Lady Sommers we forgot the main reason of this visit, which was to pay a courtesy call to your good sister.”

“That is too true, Your Majesty.” replied Gaston D’Orléans before looking at Queen Henriette-Marie. “I must apologize for not visiting you earlier, my dear sister. I was unfortunately kept quite busy in the last few months. And how are things going in England?”

“Badly, I’m afraid.” replied gloomily the widow. “The followers of my son Charles have been suffering heavily at the hands of Cromwell and of his butchers.”

“I am sorry to hear that, sister.” said Gaston, sincere, as he had no love for Cromwell and his fanatical Puritans, even though they could become politically important to him. “And how is your sojourn in Paris?”

“A lot less harsh since Lady Sommers and her mistress brought us some funds from my loyal subjects in Scotland, my dear Gaston. We would be starving if not for their help.”

“Indeed?” said Gaston while glancing at Nancy. His look, while appearing friendly, felt wrong to Nancy. “I was thus truly negligent in not visiting you earlier and correcting such a sad state of affair. I promise you that you won’t have to worry about your material needs from now on, sister.”

By now Nancy was becoming truly suspicious of the Duke. Gaston D’Orléans was famous in history for devising political plots to further his interests, then letting others take the fall for his machinations. Her telepathic powers also helped her judge the real intentions of people around her and what she was feeling now from the Duke was not friendly one bit.

The conversation then switched to a more mundane vein, with the two queens and Gaston D’Orléans doing most of the talking. Nancy, sitting besides Princess Henriette-Anne, was a bit surprised to see Anne Marie Louise D’Orléans change seats to come sit to her right with an apologetic look on her face.

“I am truly sorry for what happened to you in the Bastille, Lady Sommers. I never imagined that such cruel things would be done to you.”

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Nancy looked at her dispassionately: the Duchess may have indirectly caused her capture then but she was not a mean person, just a naïve one.

“What is done is done, Duchess. My quarrel is with the Duchess of Longueville. While you helped in my capture, you did try to intercede in my favor once in the Bastille and I thank you for that.”

“It still wasn’t enough to save you from all that pain.” said the Great Mademoiselle in a disgruntled tone. “Even if you worked for Cardinal Mazarin, you didn’t deserve that.”

“Duchess, I never worked for Cardinal Mazarin. I was simply doing my duty and protecting my mistress, Lady Lisbeth.”

The Duchess nearly said something then but thought better of it and excused herself before returning to her original chair. Something said by Queen Henriette-Marie then attracted her full attention. The Queen of England was presently talking with her brother Gaston.

“…they were found dead in a furnished rented room in a house in direct view of this palace. They still had a large amount of gold and silver with them, which made the Provost of Paris discount theft as a murder motive.”

“And you believe that these two men were agents of Cromwell, my dear Henriette-Marie? Why?”

“Why?” replied the Queen, getting agitated. “You have two anonymous

Englishmen armed to the teeth and who had been staying for over three months in a room near here and doing nothing but stay in that room or wander around the palace. The Provost’ s men questioned their neighbors, who all said that both men were distant and secretive. Nobody saw them conduct business of any kind and no one ever visited them, not even women. What else but spies of Cromwell could they be? The Provost of Paris was fortunately intelligent enough to figure that out and kind enough to come warn me about these men a few days later.”

“But who could have killed them?” asked young King Louis, his imagination fired up by this apparent plot. Henriette-Marie shrugged to show her ignorance, following which the Great Mademoiselle had one idea pop out of her mind.

“Hey, what about your English supporters, Aunt Henriette? They could be protecting you secretly.”

All eyes turned at once towards Nancy, all except those of Anne Marie Louise, who had spoken without thinking, as was her habit. Nancy was for them the only known

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supporter of the Queen who came from England and who was in evidence in Paris. The awed look King Louis then gave Nancy, along with the questioning looks from the others, suddenly made her most uncomfortable. Playing the innocent, she gave a confused look around her.

“What? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a bodyguard for that Lady Lisbeth, who professed to be a supporter of my sister in England, Lady Nancy?” asked on a neutral tone Gaston D’Orléans. Those words finally made his daughter catch on as she stared at Nancy.

“Of course! If you can beat by yourself nine soldiers, killing two men should be like child’s play. Oooh, this is exciting: a female secret agent of the King of England, here in Paris!”

Right then, Nancy could nearly strangle that young twit as she desperately thought about a way to defuse this situation and kill any wild ideas about who she was.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, Duchess, but I came to Paris only to deliver funds to Queen Henriette-Marie and to bring her news from England.” The Queen thankfully came to her help then, sensing her embarrassment.

“That is the truth, my dear niece. Lady Sommers is here only temporarily. Besides, don’t you think that those neighbors of the dead Englishmen would have noticed a teenage girl as tall as her if she had been around that house?” That did a lot to take the pressure off Nancy, apart from deflecting the conversation to other subjects. To Nancy’s relief, King Louis, Queen Anne of Austria and the D’Orléans finally left after another half hour, but not before young Louis made Nancy promise again that she would visit him in the evening. As Nancy was about to leave herself five minutes later, Queen Henriette-Marie made her stop with a gesture and eyed her gravely.

“Lady Sommers, as one of my subjects I would like you to enlighten me on one point. Did you have anything to do with the death of those Englishmen? Please be truthful.”

After a short hesitation, Nancy knelt before the Queen and bowed her head.

“Yes, I did, Your Majesty: I killed both of them myself after one of them tried to follow me after my visit here. Please excuse me if I had to lie in front of you and of your guests.”

“You are decidedly a wild girl, Lady Sommers,” said the Queen before breaking into a smile, “but also a most loyal and brave subject. I will commend you to my son, the King.”

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“Please don’t, Your Majesty!” replied urgently but politely Nancy, snapping her head up to look at her directly. “I do not wish to run the risk of some spy learning of my acts here. My friends in England could then pay for them in my place. The same goes for my mistress, Lady Lisbeth. The more anonymous we stay, the more effective we can be...and the safer we all stay.”

“I certainly can see the logic in your demand, Lady Sommers.” said softly Henriette-Marie. “May God keep you safe.”

“The same to you and your family, Your Majesty.” replied Nancy, curtsying in front of the Queen. She then walked out, breathing a sigh of relief once out of the room.

16:08 (Paris Time)

Inn of Le Lion Noir

Paris

“Have you lost your mind, Nancy? To go alone at night to the Palais-Royal, which is guarded by parliamentarian soldiers, when the Duke of Orléans knows that you are coming? That weasel will have assassins waiting for you.”

“When the Queen and the King are waiting for me? He will never be so blatant.” D’Artagnan swore to himself, then eyed her critically.

“I suppose that you won’t let me escort you.”

“Like hell I would, Charles! You are a much more sought prize than me for those Fronde soldiers. Besides, you are also much more precious than me to France.” Charles, restraining himself from blowing a fuse, shook a finger at her.

“Nancy, don’t try flattery on me. Since I obviously can’t make you change your mind about this, can I at least urge you to bring a sword with you? Your pistols are fine weapons but they will be good for a total of only two shots in the case of a street ambush.”

“That I will do, Charles.” replied Nancy, somewhat reassuring her lover. “In fact, I happen to have a good sword here.”

“That’s a start.” said d’Artagnan, who then softened considerably his tone. “For God’s sake, Nancy, be careful tonight.”

“I will, Charles, I promise. Uh, talking of being cautious, what should I do if young King Louis tries a pass at me tonight? He is said to be quite precocious.”

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That notion seemed to amuse greatly d’Artagnan, who played with one tip of his thin moustache.

“Well, you are certainly right about young King Louis being fond of girls. I don’t know if I should be honored or offended by the idea of the King playing around with my mistress. On the other hand, I can’t say that I didn’t do my part in making a few men cuckold during my life.”

“I’ll take that as a definite maybe, Charles.” replied Nancy with a grin. “At least you will know that the baby that is on its way is from you.” She then kissed him on the lips, prompting him into hugging her tight, then to lead her to the nearby bed.

20:10 (Paris Time)

Stable of the inn of Le Lion Noir

Paris

“Hello, Pegasus! Time for you to get some exercise.”

Her horse, a big brown beast, gave her a funny look and, with nobody else present in the stable of the inn at this time, spoke in a near whisper.

“Spacetime trip or old-fashioned ride?”

“Old-fashioned promenade in Paris.” answered Nancy while putting in place the saddle on top of her robotic horse cum time travel machine. She liked that robotic horse, the first to have entered service with the Time Patrol and one that had made numerous missions in time with Nancy ‘A’. Apart from being able to fool even an experienced stable boy about its true nature, the engineers and programmers who had designed it had given it a true personality and even a sense of humor. It could fly, jump spacetime with its rider and gallop for days without stopping if need be. Its skin was actually a thick multi-layered fabric that mimicked horse skin and that was proof against blade weapons and low velocity projectiles. If absolutely necessary, Pegasus could even help Nancy in a fight by firing either stun beams or laser beams through its opened mouth. That last capability had however never been needed before. After finishing to equip her horse, Nancy bent and whispered in its ear.

“Be sharp tonight: assassins may be waiting in ambush for us along the way. Act like a normal horse but warn me via radio if your sensors pick up something suspicious. Use 72.6 megahertz as a frequency.”

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“Got that, babe!”

Nancy giggled as she pictured in her head the face d’Artagnan would make if he ever saw Pegasus speak to her. Checking her two pistols, she then inspected her short, large caliber blunderbuss scatter gun held in a right side leather holder hanging from the front of her saddle. Also called a ‘tromblon’ in French, the blunderbuss was the ancestor of the shotgun and had a bore caliber of two inches but a length of only around thirty inches. While having next to no accuracy, the blunderbuss was a fearsome weapon at close range, being able to be loaded with a large load of lead balls, nails, scrap iron or anything else that was handy at the time. Nancy finally mounted up and rode out of the stable and through the courtyard of the inn before following the Rue du Temple towards the Palais-Royal.

Turning a number of times at street corners, Nancy followed the narrow streets of Paris at a trot, fully on guard against a possible ambush. As one could expect at this hour, few Parisians dared venture out in the dark streets, unless they were in groups or well armed. There was after all a civil war going on, a war that made it easy for thieves, cutthroats and other bandits to ply on the weak and the unprotected. As she got closer from the Palais-Royal, which occupied a whole city block, Nancy took out her blunderbuss and held on to it, resting its barrel across the front of her saddle so that she could use it in a hurry if need be. As she was about two blocks away from the north side of the palace, Pegasus contacted her via radio, its voice echoing inside her inner right ear.

“Alert: seven men are hiding behind the two parked chariots to our front left, sixty meters away. I can see their thermal signatures.”

“Keep going as if nothing is wrong.” replied Nancy, thinking her answer, which was picked up by her implanted radio. “Do a full scan sweep, full spectrum.” Pegasus came back on after three seconds.

“Seven men confirmed behind the chariots, plus at least two more men hiding behind the building corner to our right that we are about to pass. I also have the thermal signature of two men looking at us from second floor windows of the next building to our front right. They are holding muskets. That’s all for the moment.”

“Hell, that’s enough for me already! I think that only speed and surprise will get us out of this. The moment that we pass that building to our right, go to full gallop and charge through this ambush.”

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“Understood, Nancy.”

Nancy then braced herself after discreetly cocking the hammer of her blunderbuss: when Pegasus accelerated to full gallop it felt like trying to hold on to a rocket booster. When Pegasus did start its sprint towards the palace, Nancy was able to see with a quick glance that there were in fact about ten men hiding past the building corner to her right. Those men, like the seven others hiding behind the chariots and the two shooters posted in the windows, were taken by surprise at first by Pegasus’ dash and were slow to react. A furious order in French was then shouted from behind her.

“SHOOT HER! STOP HER!”

Crouching forward on her horse, Nancy heard one bullet whistle by her head as the two shooters fired their muskets at her. She then fired herself, pointing her blunderbuss at the group of seven men running towards her from her front left and trying to block her path. The recoil from her gun was severe and the muzzle flash intimidating but she was an acknowledged expert with heavy weapons, even for a Time Patrol assault specialist, and her discharge struck the men as they were still grouped together. Five of those men went down at once, riddled by the 24 lead balls loaded in her blunderbuss. Firing one of her pistols from the left hand, she shot in the head a sixth man, prompting the last survivor of that group to flee in utter panic. She was still galloping hard and about to arrive at the street crossing leading to the main entrance of the Palais-Royal, with ten men running hard behind her to try to get her, when a further five men emerged from a dark corner twenty meters to her right front. Having already slid back her empty blunderbuss and pistol in their holsters, she grabbed her second pistol and shot the first man of that group in the chest as he was pointing a musket at her. One of her assailants was next to fire, discharging his pistol in her direction but missing clean because of the speed of her horse. Pegasus bowled over one man who had been gutsy enough to stand in its path, while another man was slashed down by Nancy with her sword. The two remaining cutthroats then fled, having had enough already. That left Nancy with an open way to the main entrance of the palace 120 meters to her front, where she could see four parliamentary soldiers looking nervously at her while readying their muskets. Not being sure that they would be less hostile to her than the men she had just broken through, Nancy looked quickly at the façade of the palace she was riding along. Seeing an opened window with light inside on the first floor, she made Pegasus divert its course towards it while slowing down. Stopping her horse under that window only long enough to stand quickly on her saddle and grab the window sill with both hands, Nancy

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effortlessly climbed inside, using a stone ledge to secure her footing first. She smiled reassuringly to the woman in her forties dressed in an evening gown and sitting at a dresser while powdering her face. Nancy bowed to her once up on her feet in the bedroom she had climbed in.

“Please excuse me for this intrusion, madam. I will not bother you any longer.” While walking quickly out of the woman’s bedroom and in an antechamber, Nancy sent silently a radio message via mental command.

“Pegasus, run away and return to the inn without me. I will come back by my own means.”

“Understood, Nancy.”

Crossing the antechamber, where a maid was folding clean clothes, Nancy then went out in a large hallway. Not knowing the detailed layout of the palace or where the King’s suite was, she had to stop and ask politely a valet for that information. The valet answered her readily enough and she was soon hurrying towards the royal apartments. No guards challenged her before she got to the King’s apartments but she did find two soldiers of the Duke of Orléans standing guard on each side of the King’s door. Since she could not bypass them without using her special abilities as a field agent of the Time Patrol, Nancy decided to bluff it out and openly approached the two men. The soldiers, on seeing her, took hold of their swords while facing her, with one of them shouting an order at her.

“STOP! WHO GOES THERE?”

“Lady Nancy Sommers, here on the request of the King.” answered calmly Nancy, stopping for a moment in the middle of the hallway. “The Duke of Orléans guaranteed my safety in this palace.”

The senior guard eyed her for a moment, then turned his head towards his comrade.

“Marcel, tell the King that he has a visitor.”

Nancy was starting to relax a bit as the second guard went inside the royal apartments when five other guards appeared at the end of the hallway, running towards her with swords and muskets at the ready. One of those guards shouted to the man still guarding the King’s door.

“STOP HER, SHE’S AN INTRUDER!”

The man facing Nancy drew his sword at once and pointed it at her throat, with the tip a mere meter away from her.

“Don’t move, mademoiselle!”

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Nancy, keeping her own sword in her scabbard, stared hard at him and spoke in a strong voice, so that she could be heard by as many people as possible around.

“That’s what the guarantee from the Duke is worth? To have over twenty men waiting in ambush for me outside and then have me arrested at the door of the King, who invited me?”

The five guards running towards her then stopped in an extended line across the hallway, less than ten meters away from her and with their muskets pointed at her.

“Put down your weapons on the floor!”

“No! I am a guest of the King and you will treat me as such.” Nancy was expecting to get killed at any moment then when a boy’s voice froze everybody.

“NOBODY IS TO TOUCH HER!”

Young King Louis stormed out of his apartments and went to stand besides Nancy while looking angrily at the guards.

“LOWER YOUR MUSKETS! SHE IS UNDER MY PROTECTION.” The guards hesitated at first, unwilling to openly disobey their young King. The arrival of Queen Anne of Austria, coming out of the royal apartments, finally convinced them to stand down and turn back. The Queen looked hard at the soldier still pointing his sword at Nancy.

“Well? Are you deaf, monsieur? Sheet back your sword and let our guest pass.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” replied the guard, bowing deeply to her and sheeting back his blade. The King then gallantly showed Nancy into his apartments, the Queen at their back. Once the door was closed, Anne of Austria blew air out in relief.

“That was close. I wasn’t sure that those soldiers would obey us.”

“Which only shows how wrong things are in Paris now, Your Majesty.” said Nancy while curtsying. The Queen bit her lip at that, looking concerned.

“Too true, Lady Sommers. Soon, it may be too dangerous for even the King to stay in Paris. We heard many shots fired a few minutes ago. Were you the one being fired at?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” replied politely Nancy, who then told the King and Queen about the attempted ambush against her. Her story angered to no small degree the Queen, who shook her right fist.

“That treacherous Gaston D’Orléans! His so-called word is decidedly worth nothing. I will call him to task for this tomorrow.”

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She then calmed down and smiled to Nancy, unaware that the micro-cameras hidden in Nancy’s embroidered Amerindian headband were filming her.

“You are a truly tough girl, Lady Sommers, and a dangerous one too for your enemies. Your stories should captivate my young Louis tonight. Uh, how old are you already?”

“I am now fourteen, Your Majesty.”

“You sound and act like someone much older and wiser than the teenage girls around this palace, Lady Sommers.”

“One has to have good wits to survive the winters in New France, Your Majesty.”

“Indeed! Well, I have a few letters to write, so I will leave you with Louis. You are of course welcomed to stay in the royal apartments tonight, as I suspect that returning you to the streets tonight could be your death. I will have a maid come and show you where your room is.”

The Queen then lowered her voice to a near whisper.

“How are Monsieur d’Artagnan and his friends these days, Lady Sommers?”

“They are all well, Your Majesty. If you need, I can pass letters to them tomorrow.”

“Excellent! I will have something for you then.” replied the Queen before facing her son. “Don’t go to bed too late, Louis, even though I know that Lady Sommers’ stories can be captivating.”

“Yes, Mother!” said Louis politely while promising himself to get the most out of Nancy in the hours to come. Once the Queen had left, Louis XIV invited Nancy to sit with him in a sofa of his lounge, then gave her a hopeful smile.

“Well, I must thank you for coming tonight to entertain me with your stories, milady. You must have seen so many wondrous things in New France.”

“New France, while still a wild country, is indeed full of beautiful sights, You Majesty. Where would you like me to start?”

“With stories about you, milady.” replied wistfully Louis, who then got very close to her on the sofa. Nancy smiled down to the handsome boy, who was in reality only two years younger than herself. She then put her right hand on his left upper leg, making anticipation appear on his face.

“Then, Your Majesty, I will be pleased to reveal to you everything about myself tonight.”

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05:42 (Paris Time)

Friday, August 11, 1651

King Louis XIV’s apartments

Palais-Royal, Paris

Louis, about to return to his own bedroom, which communicated directly with the small servant’s bedroom used by Nancy, was able to see in detail Nancy’s body in the early morning light coming from a window, as she got up naked from the bed to dress. Himself wearing only his night shirt, he gently caressed the faint scars left on her torso by whips, pliers and hot irons, then looked up at her with sorrow.

“They were indeed cruel with you in the Bastille, milady. My heart bleeds at seeing such marks on you.”

Nancy paused as she mentally reflected on that harsh episode of her young life. It probably wouldn’t be the last time either that she would have to endure pain and hardship in the course of her career as a field agent. Looking down at Louis, who stood a half head shorter than her, she gently brushed his long hair while speaking softly.

“It was something I wouldn’t care to relive but it was also the price to pay to fulfill my duties, Your Majesty.”

An idea then came to her mind and she crouched in front of the boy king, who was still sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Your Majesty, maybe you could do something about this. As you know, many criminals in France, including women, are flogged as a punishment for their crimes. I would only ask for something from you or your mother the Queen that would help me prove to whoever doubted my moral character that I wasn’t flogged or branded because of some crime I committed.”

“I will be too happy to do this for you, milady, as it would only be simple justice.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.’’

‘’It is I who must thank you, Lady Sommers.” said softly Louis, who then patted her right arm. “You gave me much to think about, milady. You better dress while I go to my bedroom, before my mother shows up.”

Louis took the time to plant a malicious kiss on Nancy’s left nipple before walking to his bedroom. Nancy sighed as she went for her clothes: in modern times, Louis would have been an interesting boy indeed to date. She dressed quickly, then went to the window of her bedroom to look at Paris outside. The French capital may have been smelly and

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dirty in the 17th Century but Nancy had always loved Paris, in whatever time period. She had been born in Montreal in 1982 ‘B’ but had spent only a single day there, taken away with her parents before an American CIA assassination team could murder her. From there she had been moved to the secret main base of the Time Patrol in New Zealand in 3,000 B.C.E., where she had grown up while visiting occasionally either the 20th Century of timeline ‘B’ or the 34th Century of timeline ‘A’. In truth, Nancy didn’t belong to any specific time period, being one of a very few people who were in that situation. She could thus adapt easily to various time periods, something quite useful for a field agent of the Time Patrol.

The Queen’s personal maid, Madame de Motteville, came maybe twenty minutes later to tell her that she was invited to go have breakfast with the King and Queen. The woman then took out of her dress a sealed envelope that she presented to Nancy while speaking in a near whisper.

“Please pass this letter from the Queen to Monsieur d’Artagnan, for forwarding to the Cardinal.”

“Tell Her Majesty that Monsieur d’Artagnan will get this letter no later than this morning.” said Nancy while slipping the precious letter in an inside pocket of her leather jacket. “Please show me the way to the dining room.”

Being ready by then, with her weapons at her belt, Nancy followed the maid to a huge dining room where a good thirty nobles sat with the King and Queen around a long table. Nancy paused briefly on entering the room: present at the table were the Duchess of Montpensier and the Duchess of Longueville. While the former greeted her with a smile that seemed genuine, the latter visibly stiffened on her chair and her face reflected a mix of hatred and fear. Ignoring the Duchess of Longueville, Nancy approached the table and curtsied in front of the Queen.

“May I join you and King Louis for breakfast, Your Majesty?”

“You certainly may, Lady Sommers.” said Anne of Austria while designating an empty chair only four places away from hers. “Please have a seat.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” said Nancy respectfully before taking the chair shown to her by the Queen. That placed her facing squarely the Duchess of Longueville from across the table. Somehow, she believed that to be intentional, as Queen Anne knew how afraid of Nancy the Duchess of Longueville was. Since the others had already started eating, Nancy served herself from the number of baskets and platters on the

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table which contained a wide variety of bread, cheese, fruits and hard-boiled eggs. As per her habit, she ate moderately, always conscious about keeping trim and fit. A male courtier sitting besides her noticed that and made a remark to her.

“I thought that a girl as tall as you would eat more, milady.”

“I don’t really need more, monsieur, except after exercising vigorously or when in the wilderness of New France in Winter.”

That simple answer earned her a series of questions about New France from a number of curious members of the royal court, including from the Duchess of Montpensier. One fat baroness then said something that displeased Nancy to no small degree.

“How come that our settlers, armed with muskets, haven’t killed yet all those savages in the woods of New France?”

Anne Marie Louise D’Orléans nearly choked on her croissant then, expecting the wild Lady Sommers to blow a fuse at that. She looked and listened on with intense interest as Nancy answered the baroness in a calm but cold voice.

“Madame, you should know that the Amerindians also have muskets, which they bought from either us, the English or the Dutch. Also, the Amerindians are at home in those forests and are very skilled at making silent, covert approaches. You probably wouldn’t know that one has approached you before he would jump on you to scalp you. Lastly, many of those so-called savages are our allies and have been fighting hard with our people against the Iroquois. My father himself was born from a French settler and a Huron woman.”

That last sentence made more than a few jaws drop open, to Nancy’s secret satisfaction. The best part about that was that her real father’s mother indeed had Amerindian blood. More questions about New France followed after that, to which Nancy answered as much as she could within the bounds of what was known of it in this time period.

The Queen was about to get up and thus indicate that the breakfast was over when a tall, thin and richly dressed aristocrat who was about thirty years-old entered the dining room, four Fronde soldiers at his back. He had the deportment of a man certain of his high rank and walked at a brisk pace towards the Queen, his left hand on the pommel of his sword. On her part the Queen stiffened at his appearance and Nancy could feel at once the antipathy between her and the newcomer. As for who the aristocrat was, Nancy knew that already: everybody in Paris knew by sight Louis II of Bourbon, Prince of Condé, also know as ‘The Great Condé’, the military leader of the

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Fronde. Condé was justly famous as a successful general but he was also a man of considerable arrogance who had a talent to grate on the nerves of most of the people he met. Right now he certainly played the part, as his bow to the Queen and King was cursory at best.

“Good morning, Your Majesty. I am sorry to disturb your breakfast like this but I had to come and take care of a little problem.”

Nancy, fully on her guard now and keeping close tabs on the position of the four Fronde soldiers, knew at once that she was about to get in trouble…again. Her hunch proved correct, as Condé then faced her from across the dining table, all pretense of politeness gone.

“If you think that you can keep beating and killing my soldiers with impunity, then you better change your mind, young girl.”

“She is here on my invitation, Condé!” protested the Queen, jumping to her feet. “Your soldiers wouldn’t get beaten or killed if they would in turn stop trying to kill that girl.”

“That girl is cavorting with agents of Mazarin.” replied brusquely Condé, who had a nearly visceral hatred of the Cardinal. Not wanting to put at risk the Queen and King, or in fact anyone else here, Nancy got up slowly from her chair, careful not to trigger an attack yet. She then stared back at the aristocrat, who was nearly as tall as her.

“My affairs of the heart are my sole concern, monsieur. As for men who need to be in groups of up to twenty to attack one woman, I would hardly call them soldiers, especially when they are disguised as simple thugs. Since I do not wish to put anyone here at risk, I will leave, with the Queen’s permission.”

“The only place you are going is to the Bastille, young girl.” replied the prince while drawing his sword. The four soldiers waiting by the door started walking then towards Nancy. Jumping at once on her chair, then on the table, Nancy drew her own sword at the same time as she ran across the table. Parrying with her sword Condé’s blade as she jumped from the table, she then delivered a flying knee strike to Condé’s jaw, projecting him backward. The aristocrat fell heavily on his back and stayed down, knocked for the count, as Nancy landed with the smoothness of a cat on the wooden floor behind him, then ran towards the nearest window giving on the street one floor below.

Frozen for a moment like the others in the room by Nancy’s display of skills, the four soldiers finally reacted and ran as one to her. Nancy however had time to open one

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window and jump down before they got to her. Everybody, including King Louis, then rushed to the windows to see how hard Nancy had landed, only to watch her as she sprinted away with her sword still in her right hand. While the Duchess of Longueville was nearly choked with rage at that sight, the young King Louis grinned with glee.

“What an incredible girl! She is like a real Amazon.”

“She is a spy, and nothing else!” replied harshly the duchess before giving a black look at the soldiers. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get some horses and run after her!”

The soldiers left at once at a run, as much to flee her anger as to carry out her order. The Duchess of Longueville then went to her brother and knelt besides him to examine him. Seeing that her brother was going to be out for quite a while, she ordered four valets to pick up and carry him, leaving the dining room with them after a hateful look at Queen Anne. The Queen was then left with her son and the other gentlemen and ladies of her court to exchange befuddled looks.

“Did you see that jump of hers?” wondered Anne Marie Louise D’Orléans, admiration in her voice. “Who could train that girl to do things like that?”

“Circus acrobats probably, Duchess.” replied at once a courtier. “The Duchess of Longueville was probably right about her being a spy: no normal person could do this but a highly trained professional.”

“She’s not a normal person!” shot back the fat baroness who had irritated Nancy. “She’s a savage from New France!”

That prompted an immediate and angry rebuke from young Louis.

“SHE’S NOT A SAVAGE, MADAME! SHE’S A LADY OF THE FINEST KIND AND YOU ARE NOTHING COMPARED TO HER.”

Louis then stormed out of the dining room, still upset. Excusing herself with her courtiers, Queen Anne went after her son, finding him sulking in his bedroom. Sitting besides him on the edge of the bed, Anne of Austria put a protective arm around her son.

“You do like Lady Sommers a lot, do you, Louis?”

“Yes, Mother. She is brave, strong and intelligent.”

“And beautiful…”

Louis nodded at those two words.

“And beautiful, Mother.” conceded Louis. ‘’She also told me that she loved a man that she couldn’t marry.’’

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“Did she say why she couldn’t marry that man?” asked Queen Anne, confused a bit by this. Louis then looked up into her eyes.

“She said that it was an impossible love but that both loved each other very much. I am not sure that I understood her.”

“I think I do, Louis.” said Anne softly. “You have to credit her as well for being realistic. She probably loves a nobleman and, not being a true noble herself, knows that any marriage is impractical.”

“Then I will make her a noblewoman.” Fiercely replied at once Louis. “I will be entering my fourteenth year and will be considered an adult in less than a month. Then I will be able to give orders and make things happen.”

“While we are here as virtual prisoners, with no royal soldiers around us?”

“Then, we will leave Paris and join up with our soldiers.” shot back Louis, sounding confident. The Queen sighed then, knowing that this was not going to be as easy as it sounded.

13:51 (Paris Time)

Tuesday, September 5, 1651

Grand ballroom, Palais-Royal

Paris

Despite being surrounded by hundreds of nobles and important bourgeois present to celebrate his thirteenth birthday and official majority, young Louis was secretly fuming behind his façade of dignified attitude: alone in all of the high nobility with the exception of his sister, the Duchess of Longueville, the Prince of Condé had chosen to deliberately snub him by not attending this ceremony. Louis promised himself to make that arrogant prince pay for this one day: he was now after all the official ruler of France, even though he had just publicly declared that his mother the Queen would continue to administer the country in his name for a while yet, to the obvious frustration of many of the high nobles present. Louis chased his ideas of revenge for a moment as yet another group of high nobles came to congratulate him and bring him gifts. A long table set to the side of his throne was already nearly full of such gifts, which varied from jewels to weapons and artworks. More tables along the walls of the vast ballroom supported a rich and abundant buffet and four big barrels of wine attended by valets helped quench

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the thirst of the guests. Musicians were also in attendance, playing soft music and dance tunes.

After accepting the congratulations and gifts from a dozen more persons, Louis rose from his throne and called for a dance. He was not surprised one bit to see the Duchess of Montpensier nearly run to him to get the first dance with him: her advances towards him had been many and less than subtle for many months. Louis however knew well her role in the Fronde and, while keeping polite with her, was less than thrilled by her presence. He however showed magnanimity, as befitted a sovereign, and accepted to dance with her. Dancing was one thing that Louis both excelled in and liked and he managed to make Anne Marie Louise D’Orléans enjoy her dance with him. Bowing to her as she curtsied to him at the end of the dance, Louis turned around to choose another partner for the next dance. He froze at once with both surprise and joy: Nancy Sommers stood less than four paces away, dressed in a rich court gown and wearing jewels. She wore makeup and a tiara studded with gems framed her long black hair. She curtsied to Louis, whose heart was now beating furiously.

“May I have this next dance, Your Majesty?”

“It would be a pleasure, Lady Sommers.” replied Louis while offering his right hand. Nancy took it and, watched by a stunned Duchess of Montpensier, started dancing a chaste waltz with the King. Louis still felt desire grow in him as he danced, his eyes targeting her fabulous chest, which was further enhanced by the corsage and deep cleavage of Nancy’s gown. He spoke to her in a low voice as they waltzed together, watched by a growing number of shocked nobles who were belatedly realizing who Nancy was.

“How did you manage to get in, milady?”

Nancy smiled to him, malice in her eyes.

“Very few places are safe from my intrusion skills, Your Majesty. However, I am here only to wish you a happy birthday.”

“And your presence indeed makes me happy, milady. I was scared for you since your latest escape from this palace.”

“Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty: your attention flatters me.”

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“But you deserve it, milady. I wish that I knew more people as talented as you. In fact, I have been wishing for weeks to reward you for the services you provided for my mother the Queen.”

“That won’t be necessary, Your Majesty.” replied Nancy, her smile fading somewhat: she didn’t want her role or presence in this time period to become too conspicuous, as she was after all here solely on her personal time and could not anyway allow herself to become historically famous. She was already stretching pretty thin the limits she was allowed to play within. Louis was not ready to give up so easily, though.

“Yes, it is, milady. Besides, I had already promised to provide you with a royal certificate of good character. It is already made, signed and sealed by me and I wish to give it to you today.”

“That I will accept with pleasure and gratitude, Your Majesty.”

“Then, see me at the buffet table after this first round of dance is over, milady.”

“I will be there, Your Majesty. Be advised that I have a letter for the Queen on me.”

“You are indeed a precious friend of the royalty, milady. I wish that I could keep you in my service.”

“That is unfortunately impossible, Your Majesty: while I can assure you that I will never be an enemy of France, my loyalty is already taken.”

“And whose loyalty could that be, milady? That of King Charles II of England?” Nancy hesitated a bit, then spoke quickly as they got closer to each other.

“I will discuss that with you once in private, Your Majesty.”

They finished the dance, then parted, with Nancy quickly disappearing in the crowd of guests. Louis took two more dances with eager ladies before calling a pause to the dancing. Going to the buffet tables, Louis served himself a generous plate and loitered around while looking for Nancy. He nearly spilled his plate when her voice came from behind, surprising him and making him turn abruptly to face her.

“I’m here, Your Majesty.”

“By God, you do have a talent to sneak around, milady.”

“Call it a professional quirk, Your Majesty.” she said with a grin, a plate of food in her hands. “Where shall we go to speak in private?”

“To my apartments. Follow me from a distance.”

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Louis, munching on his food, made slowly his way out of the ballroom, leaving behind his plate before using a discreet door connecting the ballroom to the royal apartments. On his way out he whispered a quick message to his mother, who nodded and followed him a minute later. Louis, the Queen and Nancy soon found themselves alone in the private study of Anne of Austria. The latter graciously took the letter from Cardinal Mazarin that had been relayed through the good services of d’Artagnan, then went to her work desk and opened the letter to read it. While she read the letter, Nancy spoke in a low voice to Louis, who was anxious to know more about her.

“Your Majesty, as I said earlier, I swear that I will never be an enemy of France. While I am half-English, I am also half-French and was born in New France. I support the cause of King Charles of England but I also support your cause and that of your mother. As well I have my own personal goals, which are to fight tyranny and injustice. I cannot offer you directly my services at this time, but I am more than ready to help you and the Queen whenever our interests merge.”

“Milady, I truly appreciate your honesty and plain language, especially after all the hypocrisy and disloyalty the princes of France have shown to me and my mother in the last few years. I have no qualms in your support of King Charles of England, on the contrary. I believe Oliver Cromwell to be a vile man, apart from being a regicide. If I can help you in your fight against him, I will do it. However, I must first put my own house in order, as you must imagine.”

“A sensible line of thinking, Your Majesty. Concerning King Charles, I have some bad news: the royalist army has just been defeated at Worcester and King Charles is now in hiding. He plans to soon find refuge in France, where his family is already living in exile as you know.”

Queen Anne’s head snapped up at hearing those words, worry showing up at once on her face.

“King Charles’ army was beaten? Is King Charles safe?”

“He is, Your majesty. He was able to flee the battlefield under disguise and is hiding in Southern England. He will pass in France once he finds a safe place to take a boat. The best way to help him now is to be ready to shelter him with his family.”

“We will certainly do that, Lady Sommers.”

“And I thank you for that, Your Majesty.”

“Talking of thanks…” said the Queen while fishing a small key from inside her dress. She then unlocked a drawer of her work desk and took out two documents, each

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encased in protective leather folios. Opening them and checking them, she then passed one of them to Louis, who presented it with a sober expression to Nancy.

“I have only one word, milady. Here is the certificate I promised you. As you may see, I added to it, on the counsel of my mother.”

Nancy started reading the document, complete with royal seal, with some anxiety, hoping that it wouldn’t be so sweeping in scope as to attract undue historical attention on her. While indeed encompassing, it however proved to be worded in a way that insured discretion from all royal officers who would read it. Apart from declaring her to be a person who enjoyed the full confidence and esteem of the King, the declaration also ordered all royal officers and servants to provide her their full but discreet support on demand. In essence, Nancy now had what amounted to a blanket certificate of authority from the King himself, something one would expect to see in the hands of a top flight secret agent of the King. Farah Tolkonen, apart from being floored once she would see this document, would also be most pleased, as it would facilitate greatly any mission by Nancy in 17th Century France. She looked back at Louis with genuine gratitude.

“Your Majesty, I was not hoping for so much. Your confidence in me warms my heart.”

“You deserve that confidence, milady, and I am sure that you will never betray it.”

“You have my solemn word on that, Your Majesty.” said Nancy while bowing deeply to Louis. She meant those words and knew that Farah Tolkonen would never force her to break them: if a conflict of interest arose, Farah would simply send another field agent in her place. Louis nodded, satisfied, then took the second document from his mother.

“Even if you may find that certificate plenty, milady, I do not believe it to be enough to reward properly your services. On the other hand, knowing your wild nature and your need for frequent travel, I decided not to grant you a land title, as you probably wouldn’t be on it often enough to be able to administer it properly. My mother suggested to me instead a more flexible solution.”

Louis then read aloud from the second document.

“I, King Louis the Fourteenth of France, declare by this Letter Patent the said Nancy Laplante, also known as Nancy Sommers, daughter of Pierre Laplante and of Lady Suzan Sommers and born on the shores of the Saint-Lawrence River in New France on June 13th of the year 1635, to be the recipient of a title of pure honor and to be thus known from now on as Marquess Nancy de Saint-Laurent, by virtue of her

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courageous services to the crown of France. An annual pension of 9,000 Livres is to be disbursed from the royal treasury to the said Marquess de Saint-Laurent, in order to allow her to properly maintain her status and rank. Both the title and the pension are for life and are to end with her death. In case the Marquess de Saint-Laurent leaves behind a legal heir, that said heir will be entitled to one year’s worth of her pension at her death. Made and signed by me at the Palais-Royal in Paris on August 12th of the year 1651.” Nancy didn’t know what to say at first, stunned by the King’s grant. Louis saw her shock and grinned to her while handing her the precious document and its leather folio.

“You can now present yourself at my court with your head high, Marquess: anyone who touches you indirectly touches me and will be pursued by the King’s justice. You may also find yourself now worthy of marrying Monsieur d’Artagnan.” Louis, like his mother, was a bit surprised to see tears come out of her eyes at those last words. She however preempted their questions, speaking in a soft voice.

“You honor me too much, Your Majesty. I suppose that you learned the name of my lover through your mother?”

“That is correct, Marquess. The friends of Monsieur d’Artagnan have not missed the romance between the two of you. You should be happy now, so why the crying?” Nancy searched for a chair, then sat slowly on it, trying to find words she could use while containing her tears.

“Your Majesty, while I am bearing the child of Monsieur D’Artagnan and loves him as much as he loves me, our respective duties and responsibilities would condemn us to live separately from each other for most of the time. As I said earlier, I still owe loyalty to England, as long as it isn’t to the detriment of France. On his side, Monsieur d’Artagnan is a man of honor whose primary duties will always be to France and to its King. I shall not endanger that loyalty by possibly tempting him to split it if relations ever sour between France and England.”

Queen Anne, who had gotten up from her work desk and had approached her, patted her shoulder gently.

“Your honesty and sense of honor is a credit to you, Marquess. Too many people around this palace sorely lack both. Do you intend to continue to see Monsieur d’Artagnan?”

Nancy nodded once, then looked up at the Queen and King.

“I do, as long as he will still want me. I realize that he will have one day to get into a marriage of convenience but, even then, I will continue to love him and will raise

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his child to be proud of his name. I would however appreciate if my romance with Monsieur d’Artagnan be kept secret, Your Majesty.”

‘’I will keep mum about this, my friend.’’ said softly Louis, making her nod her head in satisfaction. Nancy then carefully folded back her two precious documents in their leather folios and slid them inside her dress before getting up.

“If you wish to prepare a letter in response to the one I just brought to you, I will be most happy to wait until it is ready, Your Majesty.”

“Then,” said young Louis, “give me the pleasure to have a few more dances with you in the meantime, Marquess.”

“With pleasure, Your Majesty.” said softly Nancy, a weak smile coming back to her face.

19:46 (Paris Time)

Inn of Le Lion Noir

Paris

D’Artagnan, having nearly eaten away his fingernails during the last few hours while Nancy was gone to the Palais-Royal, ran to her when she entered the main hall of their inn.

“Are you alright, Nancy? You look a bit pale.”

“Let’s go to my room, Charles: we will be able to speak more at ease there.” she replied in a low voice. D’Artagnan nodded to that, then told Isaac Bartet, who had been sitting and drinking wine with him, to wait for him in the hall. He next escorted Nancy upstairs to her room, closing and locking the door behind them. As Nancy sat on her bed, Charles pulled up a stool to near the bed and sat facing Nancy, holding hands with her.

“So, what happened at the palace?”

Nancy first pulled out of her dress the letter from the Queen and gave it to him.

“All went well at the Palais-Royal, Charles. Here is a letter the Queen made in response to the one I delivered to her on your behalf. The Queen would like you to bring it to the Cardinal.”

“I will leave tomorrow for Germany. What else?”

Nancy then took out her certificate and her Letter Patent of nobility, handing both to Charles.

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“The King fulfilled a promise he made me earlier and made a certificate of good character in my name, to help me in case I raise suspicions with officials because of my whip scars. He also ennobled me.”

“WHAT?” nearly shouted Charles, both stunned and overjoyed. Nancy smiled meekly at his reaction.

“Just read, then we will discuss a few things.”

Charles did so, then looked back at Nancy with a happy grin.

“But this is great! You, a marquess? And that certificate is really a permanent royal safe-conduct: it will be of tremendous help to you, Nancy.” Kneeling in front of her, he then held her hands to his heart and spoke resolutely.

“Nancy, nothing stands between us now. Marry me if you really love me.” Having somehow expected his reaction and having agonized during her trip back to the inn about her possible answer to him, Nancy looked silently at him for a few seconds, trying to contain her tears. She however broke down under the emotional stress and started crying, answering Charles between sobs.

“I do love you, Charles…However, I still can’t marry you. History stands between us.”

“History?” said blankly D’Artagnan, confused by her answer. Nancy, taking hold of his hands, then committed herself, knowing full well the possible consequences of what she was going to say.

“Charles, I am not what I pretend to be. I do not come from England, or from New France. I come from the future.”

Before Charles could recoil away from her or push her back, she hugged him tightly and spoke softly a mere few centimeters from his face.

“Charles, I am a time traveler on a mission to explore the past and document in detail the history of this time period. I can’t marry you because I can’t stay permanently in this time. I however do truly love you, from the bottom of my heart. You once got angry at me for doubting the value of your word. I now am ready to rely on it. Promise me that you will keep to yourself what I tell you and show you and I will prove to you that I am from the future and not some sort of witch.”

Charles, overwhelmed, didn’t know at first how to react. The intensity of her emotions and the plea in her eyes convinced him after a few seconds to let his passion and love for her rule over his common sense.

“Alright, I promise, Nancy, but please be convincing.”

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“Thank you, Charles.”

Retrieving first her two documents and slipping them back in her dress, she then got up, inviting Charles to get up as well. Next, she hugged him tightly and spoke softly.

“Charles, what you will see may appear like magic, but it will actually be the result of a very advanced science far removed from all that you could know. I am now going to transport you with me through time, to the Paris of the year 1954.” Mentally setting her spacetime jump, she pressed tightly Charles against her before ordering the computer controlling her implanted time distorter to jump. Both then disappeared from her room in a silent flash of light.

13:00 (Paris Time)

Friday, March 5, 1954 ‘B’

Time Patrol liaison outpost

Le Bourget Airport, Paris

France

They reappeared a few centimeters above one of the transit pads of the Paris liaison office of the Time Patrol, one of the precise locations which were kept in the memory of Nancy’s implanted time distorter. The anti-gravity field of the transit pad then allowed her and Charles to land smoothly on the metallic surface while still glued together. Nancy immediately spoke firmly to her lover, who was starting to look around him with wild eyes and seemed close to panicking.

“Whatever happens, please don’t draw your weapons, Charles. You are in no danger here… Charles?... CHARLES!’’

D’Artagnan finally seemed to calm down a bit, his panic making place to utter confusion. Nancy next spoke up loudly to apparently nobody in particular.

“AGENT NANCY LAPLANTE ‘B’, BRINGING A SAFE VISITOR. CONSIDER AS LEVEL THREE PROTOCOL.”

Taking gently Charles hand, Nancy led him off the pad and towards a door of the scooter hall they were in. She could sense his bewilderment, him being a man from a time period when there were still active witch hunts, so she spoke softly to him as she led him.

“We are now in the arrival hall of the Paris liaison outpost of my organization, which is called the Time Patrol. The goal of the Time Patrol is to protect the integrity of history and to study it. That is why I can’t marry you, Charles: because you are not

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supposed to marry me according to preordained history. Just by bringing you here and telling you about this I am risking my career, so please be indulgent and bear with me.” They were about to get to the metallic door when it silently slid open, letting through Ingrid Weiss ‘B’, the present duty field liaison agent in Paris. Ingrid, who was at a near run, braked hard and stopped six paces in front of the couple before speaking in French to Nancy.

“Nancy, are you crazy? You can’t bring d’Artagnan here or tell him about time travel. Farah will have your badge for this.”

“It may very well be the case, Ingrid, but I am ready to suffer the consequences of my acts. I need to speak with Farah.”

“I bet you do!” said Ingrid while eyeing cautiously d’Artagnan, who had his sword, dagger and two pistols at his belt. “Would you mind telling your friend to temporarily hand over his weapons to me? You know that he could react badly to a few of the things he will see here.”

“And why should I react badly, milady?” replied Charles, his suspicions coming back to him. “Do you have evil things to hide?”

“None of such things, Monsieur.” answered Ingrid calmly, raising her hands away from her pistol belt to show that she didn’t mean to threaten him. “It is just that much of what is here will appear magical to you. I just want to make sure that nobody gets hurt by accident.”

“Ingrid is a very good friend of mine, Charles.” said Nancy. “You can hand to her your weapons: she will safeguard them for you.”

After a short hesitation, Charles unbuckled his weapons belt and handed it to Ingrid, who smiled to him.

“Thank you, Monsieur. I have to say that you are as handsome as Nancy kept telling us.”

“Really?” said Charles, both amused and flattered. Ingrid nodded.

“Really. If you will now follow me to my office, we will go call my superior.”

“Her name is Farah Tolkonen.” explained Nancy to Charles as they followed behind Ingrid and walked along a long hallway. “She is a woman from the far future who co-created the Time Patrol with my big sister.”

“Your big sister? Will I get to meet her?”

“No! She is unfortunately dead, Charles. She was killed in the year 2019, during a war. By the way, she was also called Nancy Laplante and was a virtual twin of me.

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Don’t be afraid when you see Farah: she is bald and is truly a giant, like all the people from the far future. She also has six fingers per hand but don’t think of her as some kind of monster. She is in fact about the most decent and kind woman I ever met. Oh, hello, Greg!”

D’Artagnan stopped on the spot on seeing the giant of a bald man who had just stepped into the hallway from one of the side doors: the man stood well above 220 centimeters and wore the same kind of gray, body-fitting garment worn by Ingrid Weiss. The giant in turn smiled to Nancy before looking at d’Artagnan with curiosity.

“Hello, Nancy. Who is your friend?”

“Charles Ogier de Batz de Castelmore, better known as d’Artagnan. Charles, this is Greg Thorgal, one of our support specialists. He is from the 34th Century.” As Charles kept staring at the giant, the latter gave a cautious look at Nancy.

“Isn’t he forbidden from learning about time travel, Nancy?” Nancy sighed before answering.

“He is Greg. I am about to discuss this with Farah.”

“Then, I wish you good luck, Nancy.” answered Greg after a pause. He then walked past them, letting Nancy pull Charles by the hand.

“Come on, Charles. Let’s follow Ingrid.”

“This business of not telling about time travel, it does look like serious business.” said Charles, apprehensive, while resuming his walking. “What could they do to you for telling me about it?”

“I could have my abilities to travel through time taken away and be kicked out of the Time Patrol. By rule, they would be amply justified to do this, Charles.”

“But, wouldn’t that mean that you couldn’t see me again then?” Charles saw a tear roll on her cheek as she answered him.

“Yes, it does. I however couldn’t keep lying to you. Whatever happens, I will at least have your baby left to me.”

Charles was deeply shaken by this proof of love from her. Stopping her, he then exchanged a long kiss with her. Ingrid saw that and stopped too to watch them. Nancy had broken the rules of the Time Patrol, big time, but Ingrid could understand why she had done it. Still, this could very well represent the end of the career as a field agent for one girl with incredible potential and talent. Ingrid waited patiently for them to part, then continued walking to her office, situated on the second floor of the outpost. She offered Nancy and Charles seats, then sat behind her desk and activated her computer.

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Charles was too stunned by the view of Le Bourget Airport given by the office’s windows to even ask what Ingrid was doing. Nancy put a hand on Charles’ shoulder to reassure him.

“Relax, Charles. What you see now is simply normal life in the 20th Century. All those people are still that, normal people.”

Charles didn’t reply, staring instead with wide eyes at a passenger jet aircraft in the process of landing on the main runway. Next was a scoutship of the Time Patrol landing silently and vertically on its landing pad next to the office, as different from the jetliner that had landed before as the jetliner was from a sailing ship of the 17th Century.

After a minute of typing on her computer, Ingrid sat back in her chair and looked critically at her two visitors.

“I sent a quick report to Farah via the time wave transmitter. I nearly can hear her scream back from main base when she gets that report. We can probably expect her here very soon.”

“Make it right now!” said in French a female voice from behind Nancy and Charles, making them look back at a giant woman now entering the office. Svelte and beautiful, she also had alert, inquisitive eyes, which Charles noticed to be yellow. Farah, dressed in a simple, flowing long robe, shook hands with Charles first.

“I am pleased to at last being able to meet you, Monsieur d’Artagnan. Nancy told me a lot of nice things about you. I am Farah Tolkonen, Chief Administrator of the Time Patrol.”

“How much in trouble is Nancy because of me, madame?” asked at once Charles, now worried sick for Nancy. Farah took the time to look at Nancy, whose eyes were still red from crying, then sighed quietly before looking back at Charles.

“To be frank, Monsieur D’Artagnan, Nancy committed what is possibly the biggest cardinal sin in the Time Patrol book: to reveal the existence of time travel to a pre-1940 person. Normally, this would mean her summary dismissal from the Time Patrol after having her special equipment removed. For you, that would mean losing her for good.”

“Please!” said at once Charles, shooting out of his chair with grief on his face. “I pushed her repeatedly to marry me, especially after learning that King Louis had ennobled her. This is all my fault.”

Nancy covered her face with one hand as Farah looked with shock at her.

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“The King ennobled you? Was that done publicly?”

“No, Farah. King Louis gave me a letter patent plus a royal safe-conduct in the royal apartments in the Palais-Royal. That ennoblement thing came as a total surprise to me. It happened during the ceremonies to celebrate Louis’ coming of age. It seems that running a few letters between the Queen and d’Artagnan was enough to entice him into wanting to reward my services. I am now the Marquess de Saint-Laurent, with a yearly pension of 9,000 Livres for life.”

Farah couldn’t help throwing her hands up in exasperation then.

“Hell, Nancy, why did you have to tell Monsieur D’Artagnan about time travel? I allowed you to go see periodically Monsieur d’Artagnan, which was already stretching things. You were about the most promising new agent we have and you had to blow everything away like this?”

“Farah,” said Nancy in a weak voice, “I did it because I know that Charles’ word can be trusted and because I love him too much to keep lying to him and give him false hopes. I know that I broke all the regulations on this and am ready to pay the price for it.”

Nancy’s confession, instead of making Farah’s task easier, only made it that much harder. She was not one of those bureaucratic types who could put aside the human factors in a problem and coldly recite regulations. If anything, this case was all about human factors. D’Artagnan, for starters, had stricken her at once as a charismatic and decent man quite removed from the image of the hot-headed duelist one could have of him just from his historical reputation. On the other hand, introducing agents into a time period and expecting them to feel nothing for the persons around them was totally unrealistic, especially since a minimum of interplay was demanded in order to elicit the historical information that their mission was after. Going to a vacant chair made for humans of the 34th Century, she sat down and eyed silently Nancy and Charles for a moment, then spoke softly to her young field agent.

“Tell me how it all came to this, Nancy. Take your time to do it.” Nancy did so, speaking for a good twenty minutes, with Farah interrupting a few times to clear a point with her. At the end of it, Farah looked at Charles, who appeared quite distressed by Nancy’s plight.

“Monsieur d’Artagnan, are such ennoblements a common occurrence in your time?”

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“They are quite common, madame. The buying of letters of nobility is even more common.”

“And how is Nancy regarded by the people at the King’s court?” Charles hesitated for a moment, glancing at Nancy before answering.

“Some want her dead. Others find her fascinating because of her talents, while quite a few can only think about her body. Personally, I find her an extraordinary girl. I just couldn’t live without her.”

“Monsieur d’Artagnan, you should know that history has no place for Nancy at your side. I do not want to demean your love but, unfortunately, history can be pretty inflexible. Even if we throw her out of the Time Patrol she still wouldn’t be allowed to stay with you in the 17th Century. You are unfortunately a man of quite high standing in history, someone whose official history is fairly well known by many people today.”

“Then, she will end up losing everything while I will lose her for good, all because of me?” said Charles, his voice breaking and with tears coming out. Nancy, also in tears, bent sideways to pass an arm around him. With a big lump in her throat, Farah got up and went to face the windows of the office, trying to regain her composure while appearing to look outside.

“Monsieur d’Artagnan, you should know as well that Nancy will lose you anyway, as she will probably outlive you by a wide margin. We in the Time Patrol actually enjoy a lifespan much longer than normal, thanks to advanced medical techniques. Nancy should be able to live well past 200 years.”

D’Artagnan’s reply actually surprised her.

“I would rather die first than have to watch her die, madame. If I have to stop seeing her forever, then at least give her a chance to go on and do what she is good at.” Farah bowed her head while still facing the windows, crushed by the weight of the decision she had to take. She finally turned around to face both Nancy and Charles, her expression grave.

“Monsieur d’Artagnan, your reputation for honor and loyalty is legendary in history. Can you give me your solemn word that you will never tell anyone in your time period about what you saw or heard here? Are you ready to see Nancy only at intervals, discreetly?”

Charles got up from his chair at once and stared back firmly at her.

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“On my honor, I swear that no one will know about all this, madame, ever! As for seeing her at intervals, it is still much better than to lose her for good. I will do whatever is needed to avoid punishment to Nancy.”

“We are not barbarians, monsieur: we do not intend to flog her or something else of the sort. Rather, I will use to the fullest what she has just gained from King Louis XIV and make her our specialist agent for the 17th Century. In return, I expect her to learn from this experience and to mature from it. Nancy, you can now bring back Monsieur d’Artagnan to his time.”

Nancy and Charles stood motionless for a second, not able to believe their ears, then threw themselves into each others arms while shouting their joy. They were still hugging each other when Natai appeared out of thin air in the office, dressed in her customary white robe. All eyes went to her at once, with Charles noting her eerie resemblance with Nancy. Before anyone else could speak, Natai spoke telepathically, her voice echoing inside their heads.

“Love is indeed the greatest thing in Humanity. You decided well in this case, Farah.”

“Thank you, Natai. It was however no easy decision.”

“Which only brings more credit to you.’’

Natai then changed her aspect, turning from the shape of Nancy ‘A’ to that of a luminescent humanoid being of no defined sex that floated silently to Charles, who quickly knelt before her, in a near trance at the sight of the supernatural being.

“You are a good spirit, Charles Ogier de Batz de Castelmore. Be assured that The One will look kindly on you at your death.”

Natai then faded away, making d’Artagnan look with confusion and awe at Nancy.

‘’Was that really your big sister? What is she?’’

‘’What you saw is an angel, Charles, and the soul of my late twin sister is in her.’’

‘’And who is this One she spoke about?’’

‘’You would probably call The One ‘God’. She serves him on this Earth.’’ Charles quickly signed himself at those words, nearly overwhelmed by that revelation. Farah, also quite shaken by the whole episode, looked down at Nancy and Charles and spoke softly to them.

‘’You now have the blessing of no less than The One, on top of mine. You may now return to the 17th Century. On my part, I will return to our main base to pass the news of this.’’

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As Farah hurried out of her office, Ingrid grabbed d’Artagnan’s weapons belt and brought it to Charles.

“Don’t forget your weapons, monsieur. Do you guys need a lift back to the year 1651?”

“No, I will manage by myself. Thanks anyway.” replied Nancy, who then hugged again Charles and disappeared with him in a flash of light.

Their return into Nancy’s room at the inn was much less smooth than their arrival at Le Bourget, with the two of them falling a few centimeters down to the floor with a loud thud. Nancy caught Charles before he could lose his balance, then hugged him for a long kiss. After a good ten seconds, she looked fondly into Charles’ eyes.

“Will you forgive me for lying to you like this for all those weeks, Charles?”

“You have nothing to be forgiven for, Nancy. You only followed your mission directives, as I did follow the directives of the Cardinal during my missions. Just promise me to stay for another month before leaving on your next trip.”

“I promise, Charles. I will then come back to show you our baby.” Charles then hugged Nancy tenderly, as happy as he ever had been.

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Carriage entrance, Hôtel de Brinvilliers, 12 Rue Charles-V, Paris.