TEMPORAL AGENT by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 6 – THE SON OF D’ARTAGNAN

 

09:17 (Paris Time)

Monday, July 1, 1652

Royal Court of King Louis XIV

Castle of Maubergeon

Poitiers, France

Jules Mazarin, Cardinal, Prime Minister and lover of Queen Anne of Austria, was walking in the corridors of Maubergeon Castle, doing some thinking while exercising his legs a bit. Having returned from self-exile only a few months ago at the head of an army of 7,000 German and Polish mercenaries, Mazarin had been warmly welcomed back by both the Queen and the young King. The Parisians, on the other hand, had taken little time to put a 150,000 livre reward on his head, an edict that had then been annulled by the King. Then, the Duke of Orléans had joined his armies with those of the Prince of Condé, who still hated Mazarin with a passion. The ingratitude of so many towards him despite his years of loyal service to France made Mazarin quite bitter at times, especially when the xenophobia about his Italian origins was added to that. On the other hand he could console himself with the thought that such people as the Queen, the King and a number of royal counselors appreciated him and treated him like a friend. He also could count on the loyalty of quite a few brave men, not the least of which was Charles d’Artagnan, who had faced untold dangers and discomfort to play the vital role of courier between him and Queen Anne.

As the thought about D’Artagnan crossed his mind, Mazarin saw through the window of the upper floor he was standing in front of a small covered horse cart approach the castle. It was very ordinary in appearance and was driven by what seemed to be a woman, something not unusual in the least. What attracted Mazarin’s attention was the size of the woman, who was now discussing with one of the guards standing vigil along the road from Nantes: Compared to her, the guard seemed diminutive. That fact reminded Mazarin of a girl his loyal d’Artagnan had told him about more than once. His interest now awakened, Mazarin followed with his eyes the cart as it drove into the courtyard of the castle and stopped besides the stables, where the

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woman jumped out and tied up her horse before grabbing a large wicker basket and walking towards the main entrance of the central dungeon. Being able to see her from closer, Mazarin saw that she was actually a beautiful teenager, with long black hair and a generous chest. Now truly curious about her, Mazarin hurried down the main staircase, stepping in the lobby as the girl was being received by a royal valet. The girl, seeing Mazarin approach her, made a curtsy to him, prompting a gentle chiding from the Cardinal.

“No need for such formalities with me, my child: I am not the King after all.”

“But you are his prime minister, as well as the master of the man I love, Your Eminence.”

“So, you are indeed this famous Lady Nancy Sommers d’Artagnan kept telling me about?”

“I am famous, Your Eminence?” said the girl, appearing a bit embarrassed. Mazarin had to say that she was indeed beautiful, apart from being impossibly tall for a girl. She was however also very fit and strong-looking, with a suntanned skin that denoted a lot of time spent outdoors. The Cardinal could see how d’Artagnan could fall in love with such a girl. He noted quickly the little baby sleeping inside the basket held by her.

“If young King Louis as well as the Queen keep telling me about your exploits in Paris, then I believe that this makes you famous, Lady Sommers, or should I say Marquess of Saint-Laurent?”

“Just Nancy would do, Your Eminence.” she said in her melodious voice, her green eyes sparkling with malice. “Would Monsieur d’Artagnan be in this castle by chance?”

“Unfortunately, no. He is still in Paris. May I understand that you came to present him his newborn child?”

“You are correct, Your Eminence.” replied Nancy, her smile fading somewhat at the news that Charles was not here. “I was hoping that he would have joined you here, at the temporary court of the King.”

An idea then came to Mazarin’s mind, who smiled to Nancy.

“I was in fact thinking seriously about recalling him to me but had not had the chance yet to do so. Maybe you could pass that message to d’Artagnan in person, Lady Nancy?”

That suggestion brought a splendid smile to her face that warmed up Mazarin.

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“That is a nice idea indeed, Your Eminence. I will leave for Paris at once.”

“Please,” replied Mazarin, gently stopping her from turning around and leaving, “at least let me provide you with some provisions for the road before you go. The roads are both uncomfortable and dangerous these days, especially when traveling with a small baby like you do. It would also allow me to prepare a letter for Monsieur d’Artagnan for you to carry.”

Nancy bowed again at those words.

“In that case I will be happy to delay a bit my departure, Your Eminence.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Nancy. Please follow me to my apartments.”

Her basket in one hand, Nancy followed the Cardinal through the lobby, then up the stairs towards the main apartments of the castle. Mazarin stopped for a moment in the middle of the stairs to pass directives to a servant apparently in his employ, ordering him to prepare a large food basket for Nancy’s trip before resuming his way to his apartments. Before they could get there, they met in the hallway young King Louis, who was escorted by two valets. Wearing a large felt hat with his court outfit, young Louis beamed with joy at the sight of Nancy and went to her at once as she curtsied respectfully to him.

“Lady Nancy, it is a pleasure to see you here. Did you just arrive?”

“I did, Your Majesty. However, I am leaving at once for Paris to go fetch Monsieur d’Artagnan there.”

“But you are coming back here, are you?” replied Louis, hiding his disappointment. Nancy smiled to him, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Of course, Your Majesty! I wouldn’t want to miss a chance to tell you more stories about New France.”

“That would be appreciated, Lady Nancy.” said Louis with a big grin before looking down at the basket she held. “And may I presume that this is your baby from…” Nancy urgently motioned him to stop speaking then, whispering next to him.

“Please don’t say the name of the father, Your Majesty: I wish it to be a secret for all others but you, the Queen and the Cardinal.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for my indiscretion. I will keep mum about that from now on. Is it a boy or a girl?”

“A boy, Your Majesty. His name is Charles.”

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Bending forward, the young King caressed briefly the head of the sleeping baby, then smiled back to Nancy.

“I wish your son the best in life, Lady Nancy. I will be waiting your return from Paris with impatience.”

“I will make haste on my trip, Your Majesty.” promised Nancy, curtsying again. Louis then walked away, letting Mazarin free to lead her into his apartments. Inviting her to sit down on a chair, Mazarin then sat at his work desk and scribbled quickly a letter. Nancy used that time to give her right breast to her baby son, who had just awakened with a hungry wail. Little Charles was still happily sucking milk when Mazarin finished his letter and folded the parchment. He eyed for a moment Nancy with her breast denuded, then spoke quietly in order not to upset her baby.

“Your trip may be quite dangerous, Lady Nancy. You may very well have to go through the armies of the Duke D’Orléans and of the Prince of Condé between here and Paris. Those armies employ many foreign mercenaries who wouldn’t mind having fun with a pretty girl traveling alone. God knows that looting and raping are too frequent occurrences right now in our poor France.”

Nancy eyed Mazarin cautiously, restraining herself in extremis from remarking to him that the 7,000 mercenaries he had brought with him had also looted and raped their way to Poitiers. Whoever was in charge in France, it seemed that it was always the poor people who paid the price of those struggling to gain or keep power. In answer to Mazarin’s warning, Nancy opened her cape wide, showing him the two pistols and the dagger holstered around her belt.

“I am well aware of the dangers, Your Eminence. I am however ready to face them and am most familiar about how to deal with such situations. Let’s say that I lead a most adventurous life compared to a normal girl. If I meet those Fronde armies I will make sure to keep my eyes open and to note everything of worth.” Mazarin nodded his head once, secretly impressed by her aplomb. Here was a teenage girl who, if he could believe all the stories he had heard about her, was at least as valiant, efficient and dangerous as his own d’Artagnan. As a spy, she indeed represented a priceless asset for the royal service.

“Lady Nancy, have you touched any part of your annual pension yet since you were ennobled last September?”

“No, Your Eminence. I had to leave the Palais-Royal soon afterwards and kept a low profile from then on, for d’Artagnan’s sake.”

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Mazarin thought over that for a moment, then took another piece of parchment and wrote something on it, then went to a large, solid-looking chest and unlocked it with a key he took from inside his cardinal’s robe. Pulling out a heavy leather purse, he poured its content on his desk and counted out a goodly number of large gold coins before putting them in a separate purse. He then signaled Nancy to join him at his desk, which she did, still breastfeeding her baby. Giving her the second purse, he presented as well a pen to her and the parchment.

“Here are 4,500 Livres, representing the first six months of your annual pension. Sign this receipt here, please.”

Nancy signed quickly, giving back the pen and the parchment to Mazarin, then weighed the purse with apparent remorse.

“I don’t know if I really deserve all that gold when I think of all the dangers my brave d’Artagnan is going through constantly.”

Mazarin grinned at those words and started counting more gold pieces on his desk.

“This is the nicest way I was ever remembered of how miserly as an employer I can be, Lady Nancy. D’Artagnan and his companions in Paris have indeed worked diligently for my cause during all those months, so I will ask you to bring them their pay at the same time. Here are 600 Livres I owe to D’Artagnan, plus 600 Livres each to Messieurs De Dalleville, Bartet and Hughes de Terlon.”

Mazarin put that money in yet another purse and gave it to Nancy, then eyed her gravely.

“You are now even more of a tempting target for Fronde soldiers, Lady Nancy. Please be careful during your trip.”

“I will shoot my way through if need be, Your Eminence, but nothing will keep me from seeing my d’Artagnan.” said firmly Nancy, meaning each word. Someone then knocked on the door, prompting Mazarin to call him to enter. That someone turned out to be a servant, carrying a large covered basket of food. Thanking and dismissing him, Mazarin then got up and put a hand on Nancy’s head, who had bowed to him.

“May God be with you and your son on your trip, Marquess of Saint-Laurent. I will pray for your safe return.”

“Thank you, Your Eminence. I should be back in three weeks with d’Artagnan.” Grabbing the basket of food as well as the basket containing her baby and the two purses full of gold, Nancy then left the Cardinal’s apartments. Mazarin went to a window and watched her get back to her cart, putting inside it both of her baskets and the purses, hiding the latter under a blanket before untying her horse and sitting in the front of the

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cart. Urging her horse on, she was soon out of the courtyard and on her way along the road to Tours, Orléans and Paris. Mazarin couldn’t help reflect then on how many good people this civil war had cost France already. He frankly hated the thought that this young girl could become part of the mounting number of casualties.

11:06 (Paris Time)

Friday, July 5, 1652

22 kilometers south-southwest of Vendôme

Nancy, doing good time thanks to the tireless pace of her robotic horse Pegasus, was over a day past the city of Tours and was hoping to make it to the town of Vendôme for the night, so that she would not expose her baby boy to a night out. Up to now the road traffic had been light but had stopped completely since she had left in the morning the small town of Château-Renault, something that made her suspect that trouble lay ahead. She was proven right when she turned a bend of the narrow road, in reality a glorified dirt trail, and was suddenly faced with a dispersed group of over forty dead men lying in and around the road. Nancy stopped at once her cart and surveyed visually the bodies and the woods around her, her heart beating faster. The dead men, wearing what had not been looted from their uniforms, were apparently soldiers from the royal army. Seeing no movement around and not hearing any suspicious noise, Nancy discreetly pulled her blunderbuss scatter gun closer to her, hiding it under her seat, then pulled out an extra pistol from her well-stocked arsenal and hid it as well under her seat before urging Pegasus forward. She would have jumped out to at least pull out of the way the few bodies lying across the road but was afraid that this could turn into an ambush and was not ready to risk her son for this. She made Pegasus zigzag in order to avoid trampling any of the bodies, then urged it on to a fast trot, in a hurry to get away from this spot.

Her fears materialized three kilometers further down the road, when a mounted patrol of seven soldiers wearing the colors of the Duke of Orléans appeared ahead of her, turning a bend of the road. Something in the soldiers’ attitude alarmed at once Nancy, who forced herself to keep going on at the same rhythm despite her misgivings. She soon understood what had awakened her suspicions when the soldiers galloped to meet her cart, then surrounded it, forcing her to stop: they were obviously half-drunk,

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apart from being unshaven and unkempt. They looked and sounded like the dregs of an army and acted like it as well. Their leader, who was holding a sword, pointed it at Nancy while shouting joyously to his men.

“LOOK WHAT PROVIDENCE HAS BROUGHT TO US: A FINE LOOKING GIRL TO AMUSE US!”

Nancy tensed further, knowing that she would not be able to avoid a fight now if she wanted to live and protect her son. Still, she tried one attempt at keeping the situation calm, feigning fear while staying on the driver’s bench of her cart.

“Please, sir, I am only trying to join back my husband in Paris and have my baby son with me.”

That only made the leading cavalryman scoff at her.

“A baby, eh? Good! Then you have some experience in bed. If you are really nice with us, we will let you and your baby go away safely afterwards. Right, men?” His question made his six men laugh out loud, showing to Nancy the worth of his promise. Thankfully for her, four of the men, including their leader, stood in a loose group to her left front, while two more stood to her front right and a last one stood behind her cart. They had pistols, swords and muskets but had only their swords out at this time, except for one man behind the leader who was holding a pistol. Taking the initiative while the soldiers were laughing as a group, Nancy pulled out her blunderbuss scatter gun and discharged it in the middle of the group of four men to her front left. The loud blast and the cloud of white smoke made the surviving soldiers stop their laughing abruptly as three men and two of their horses fell down, with a fourth man crying out in pain while holding his left upper arm. Not letting the other soldiers a chance to recover from their surprise, Nancy pulled out the two pistols at her belt and shot down the two men to her front right, then quickly grabbed her spare pistol from under her bench and stood on her feet while turning around. She shot the last soldier as he was trying still to pull his own pistol out. That left the one wounded soldier to her front left. Looking back around, she saw that one galloping away while still holding his arm. Sitting back down, she urged Pegasus to full gallop, intent on finishing the man off before he could get more soldiers on her. Nancy patted gently the head of little Charles, who was now crying after being awakened brutally by the detonations.

“I’m sorry about that, Charles. Be patient and I will take care of you soon.” Pulling another loaded pistol from her reserve while holding the reins, Nancy then waited for Pegasus to overtake the soldier’s horse, which didn’t take long. As soon as the man

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was less than ten paces from her, she shot him down, hitting him between the shoulder blades and dropping him from his horse. She didn’t bother to check on him, instead continuing on at a full gallop along the road towards Vendôme. Using the fact that Pegasus could go on by himself without supervision, Nancy used the next minutes to reload frantically her four pistols and her blunderbuss, hiding or holstering them back afterwards, then grabbed her baby and hugged it, trying to calm him with soothing words. It was only a question of time before more soldiers appeared to investigate the shooting she had done.

Nancy felt her heart sink when a strong column of over a hundred cavalrymen appeared five minutes later on the road, galloping towards her: there was no way that she could deal with so many soldiers. Subtlety was thus the order of the day now. While dressed in different uniforms from the ones she had killed, they were still recognizable as men of the Duke of Orléans. Slowing down her cart, Nancy started waiving frantically at the incoming soldiers, who were led by an officer, while shouting at them.

“THERE ARE ROYAL SOLDIERS BEHIND ME. THEY KILLED A GROUP OF FRONDE SOLDIERS.”

Seeing the officer slowing down his horse as she approached him, Nancy pulled on the reins and made Pegasus stop, then shouted again excitedly at the officer.

“A HALF DOZEN FRONDE SOLDIERS WERE JUST KILLED THREE MILES BEHIND ME BY A LARGE GROUP OF ROYAL SOLDIERS HIDING IN THE FOREST! I SAW THE WHOLE THING!”

“Three miles away you say, mademoiselle?” asked urgently the officer after tipping his hat to her. Nancy made a show of looking frightened, as if she had just run for her life.

“That is correct, monsieur! The shooting happened less than 300 paces behind my cart. Those Fronde soldiers never stood a chance, as there must have been over sixty royal soldiers.”

“Sixty? It must be a raiding party intent on cutting our lines of communications.” The officer then looked back at his men while waiving his sword high.

“FOLLOW ME, MEN! BE READY FOR ACTION!”

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Nancy stood on her bench to watch the cavalry troop gallop away while shouting encouragement at them, then saying in a low voice one word once all of them were well past her.

“Suckers!”

She took place back on the bench at once and grabbed the reins to urge Pegasus to a gallop. As Pegasus accelerated along the road, Nancy made sure that little Charles was secure in his basket behind her driving bench, as the ride was going to be both rough and furious for a while. She ended up holding in place the basket with one hand while holding the reins in the other hand and with both of her feet braced solidly in the footrests as the cart nearly flew over the road. For a good six kilometers Nancy could have swore that Pegasus pulled the small cart up to speeds of sixty kilometers per hour. She finally ordered her robotic horse to slow down as she spotted a narrow trail ahead and to the right. She made Pegasus veer on the trail and follow it at a relatively slow speed for about 400 meters. Seeing a particularly thick patch of coniferous trees to her left, she drove her cart to the middle of the patch and stopped it, then jumped out and hurriedly cut off branches with her sword to camouflage her cart, as the cavalrymen she had fooled were liable to get information about her from one of the soldiers she had shot, if any of them had survived. Finally done, she returned inside her cart and pulled her crying son from his basket. She then gave Charles her left breast to suck on. Her baby grew quiet nearly at once, allowing her to relax somewhat. While her baby fed itself, she used one hand to open her provisions basket and ate as well, chewing on a piece of cheese and washing it down with water that she had filtered and boiled before pouring it in her water flask.

Maybe forty minutes later, she heard a troop of cavalrymen approaching from the South on the main road at high speed and guessed that the Fronde officer had learned that she and not royal soldiers had shot the seven-man patrol and was now after her. That was worrying for her, as it meant that this officer, if he didn’t catch her himself, was liable to pass the word about her to other Fronde officers in the area. This was going to force her to travel by night for the next day or two, in order to use to the fullest the technological advantage she enjoyed over present day soldiers thanks to the sophisticated sensors of her robotic horse, who could ride around in total darkness without difficulty. She was also going to need to change her itinerary a bit in order to take some distance from this area. After consulting a crude contemporary map, she

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decided to proceed towards the city of Blois and then Orléans instead of Vendôme. Her baby then made a noise which was followed by a smell that announced to Nancy that it was time for a diaper change. She smiled to her son and kissed him tenderly on the forehead.

“I wish at times that I had a life as simple as yours, my sweat Charles. Milk, poop and sleep: can’t get simpler than that, eh?”

15:14 (Paris Time)

Wednesday, July 10, 1652

Faubourg St-Jacques, Paris

A Fronde officer stopped Nancy’s cart with a sign of the hand as she got to the checkpoint established in the southern suburbs of Paris, then asked her a question in a bored voice.

“What is your reason for coming to Paris, mademoiselle?” Nancy, wearing a blond wig and dressed in a poor peasant girl’s dress, patted the wicker basket besides her on the bench of her cart while looking at the officer.

“I’m here for a paternity affair, monsieur. My no-good fiancé believed that he could escape his responsibilities by fleeing to Paris, so I came to grab him back or, failing that, to make him pay a pension for my son.”

The officer looked with amusement at the baby in the basket, then laughed out loud before signaling to Nancy to pass.

“Have a good luck with your fiancé, mademoiselle, and have a good day.”

“Thank you, monsieur.” said Nancy with a big smile before urging on Pegasus. Driving slowly through the checkpoint, she then went towards the Seine River, crossing it over the Pont de la Tournelle and passing through the Island of St-Louis before crossing the Pont Marie and rolling on the North Shore. It then took her less than thirty minutes to arrive at the Inn of Le Lion Noir. The sight of the inn made Nancy’s heart beat faster and she guided her horse into the courtyard of the establishment, where a stable boy grabbed the bridle of her horse to lead it into a stall of the stable. Nancy threw a silver coin to the boy and gave him a smile.

“Would you be kind enough to help me with my things before taking care of my horse?”

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“Sure, mademoiselle!” said the boy, pocketing quickly the coin and then grabbing two big bags Nancy was pulling out of the cart. Nancy herself carried the rest of her things and her baby, with her weapons hidden inside her bedroll. On entering the main hall of the inn, the innkeeper saw her full hands and called at once a servant to come help her. She grinned to the innkeeper as the servant took most of her things save for her bedroll and her baby basket.

“Thank you, monsieur, you are too kind. Do you have a room available?” The man hesitated then and eyed her carefully, recognizing her voice. He then understood who she was and played dumb.

“Of course, mademoiselle! For how long would you like to take it?”

“I am not sure yet. Maybe a few days at the most. I have to find someone in Paris.”

“A few days it will be, mademoiselle. You can pay the room once you had a chance to get all your things upstairs. Gilles, show the mademoiselle to room sixteen on the second floor.”

“Yes, monsieur!”

Making a show of helping her as well, the innkeeper took her bedroll from her and went upstairs as well, whispering to her as they were in the staircase.

“Monsieur d’Artagnan should be back in the inn for supper, mademoiselle. Should I announce you to him when he comes?”

“That won’t be necessary: I will wait for him downstairs during supper time.” The innkeeper looked down at her baby and grinned to it.

“Your baby is really cute, mademoiselle. He certainly looks well fed too.”

“I’ve got lots of reserves for him.” Joked Nancy while grabbing her breasts, making the innkeeper laugh.

“That you do!”

They soon arrived at the room assigned to her and dropped her things there. The innkeeper, knowing her habits, smiled to her as she sat with a sigh on the bed.

“The usual hot bath, mademoiselle?”

“Damn right, monsieur! I just had a ten-day trip from Poitiers and feel grubby as hell.”

“Then it won’t be long, mademoiselle.” promised the innkeeper. Before he could go, Nancy dropped four gold coins in his hand.

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“Make sure that neither me nor Monsieur d’Artagnan and his friend stay hungry for the next day or two.”

“Understood, mademoiselle.” said the happy man before leaving. Nancy used the time it took for a wooden bathtub to be brought in and filled with warm water to unpack and put her things away. Once her bath was ready, she locked her door, undressed herself and her baby and stepped into the tub with him. Washing her two month-old baby proved half of the fun, with little Charles giggling in the process and filling Nancy with pride. Once her baby was clean, Nancy wrapped him in a thick wool towel and laid him besides the tub in order to finish her own washing. She felt much better by the time she stepped out of the tub and dried herself. She put on a clean peasant’s dress supplemented by a wool cape and a linen cap over her blond wig, then put a clean diaper on her son before dressing him in a baby shirt and returning him to his padded basket. Lastly, she put her pistol belt on, hiding it under her cape, then went downstairs with her infant.

Taking a corner table in a dark part of the main hall, Nancy ordered the soup of the day, a chicken and vegetable broth, and a beef stew, plus a pitcher of red wine. It was not that she liked to drink wine all the time but drinking the water of the time was one sure way to become seriously sick quickly, so one drank either beer, wine or cider. Once she had eaten her meal, little Charles got to be breast-fed under the cover of her cape. Nancy was still nursing him when d’Artagnan walked in with Bartet, Dalleville and de Terlon. Hiding her joy, Nancy lowered her head so that they wouldn’t recognize her too fast and waited patiently while the innkeeper went to the four men and spoke in whispers to d’Artagnan. The latter still couldn’t help snap his head in her direction, a happy grin appearing on his face, but managed not to shout his joy, instead walking to her and sitting opposite her at her table. He then gently raised her chin with one hand, looking into her green eyes. She smiled in turn and spoke softly.

“Hello, Charles. It was a long time. I have your son Charles with me here.” She opened a bit her cape to let him see her baby, who was still sucking milk. D’Artagnan, now 39 but still as fit and handsome as ever, gently caressed the baby’s head before bending over and kissing Nancy, who returned the favor. D’Artagnan had tears in his eyes when they parted.

“God, I missed you so much, Nancy.”

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“And I missed you too, Charles. Go have supper with your friends, then come see me in room sixteen, the four of you. I have something from your master for you. By the way, I already paid the innkeeper for your supper.”

D’Artagnan grinned at that and pressed her right hand gently.

“You always think of everything, Nancy. I don’t know what I would be without you.”

“Without me you would still be the most famous musketeer in history, Charles.” D’Artagnan nodded soberly at that, remembering his fantastic trip to the year 1954.

“Well, I will see you after supper. That shouldn’t take long.”

“Take all your time, my love: we have all night after all.”

Those words made d’Artagnan grin with anticipated pleasure. He then got up and went to the table taken by his three comrades. Nancy was next to get up with her baby, going upstairs to her room. She had to wait only a half hour before someone knocked at her door. Always cautious, she grabbed a pistol before going to the door and asking who was there, then opened it on recognizing d’Artagnan’s voice. The latter and his three comrades quickly filed in the room, with Nancy locking the door behind them. Her next move was to give to d’Artagnan the letter from the Cardinal. D’Artagnan read it carefully, then looked gravely at his comrades.

“Friends, the Cardinal needs our services with him in Poitiers, where the King and his court have temporarily established themselves. With the Prince of Condé now in Bordeaux and with the Paris Parliament now mostly neutral in the Fronde, the Cardinal judges that our talents are now wasted here. We are to move to Poitiers as soon as possible.”

“That could be a risky trip.” said somberly Hughes de Terlon. “It is said that there is constant fighting between royal and Fronde armies south of Paris.”

“I can brief you in detail right now about that.” cut in Nancy, who then took out her map and took a couple of minutes to brief the four men on what she had noted during her trip from Poitiers. Her exposé made Hughes de Terlon look at her with disbelieving eyes.

“Tudieu, Nancy, you can explain military deployments better than many generals I have met. And you were able to evade all these enemy patrols?” Nancy grinned with malice and pride at those words: coming from a seasoned soldier like de Terlon, those words were sweet indeed on her ego.

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“Let’s say that I learned from the best. Now, I suggest that we go through Orléans, then Blois before heading towards Poitiers. Those areas are used by the enemy as rear areas for their supply lines and, as such, will have less fighting troops around them than the more direct way, where most of the fighting is happening.”

“Sounds logical.” said thoughtfully Isaac Bartet while scratching his chin. “How do we get out of Paris?”

“In plain sight, through the southern suburbs. The Fronde soldiers manning the checkpoints there are bored and also concentrate their attention on the people entering Paris, not on those going out. Of course, if you can look less than martial on your way out, the better. I would also counsel that you split up before passing the checkpoints.”

“All good points, gentlemen!” then said d’Artagnan in a firm voice. “Let’s be ready to leave by tomorrow morning, after breakfast.”

As the others nodded in agreement, Nancy fetched one of the heavy purses she had been lugging around and threw it at d’Artagnan.

“Before you go to your rooms, I have something else from the Cardinal: he tasked me with bringing you your back pay. There are 600 Livres for each of you in this purse.”

Those words brought a mix of joy and relief to the faces of the four agents of Mazarin, who then eagerly took their respective cuts from the purse before Dalleville, Bartet and de Terlon left Nancy’s room. That left d’Artagnan alone with Nancy, who locked the door of her room before gluing herself to her lover.

“I believe that we have some lost time to make up for, Charles.”

”I believe that you are right, Nancy.”

Charles was about to start undressing her when she stopped him and pointed at the bathtub, still sitting in a corner.

“Don’t forget my usual conditions, Charles: no bath, no sex!” Charles sighed in mock frustration, then grinned with malice.

“Only if you help scrub me.”

“Deal!” Replied Nancy, a lecherous expression on her face.

14:30 (Paris Time)

Sunday, July 21, 1652

Castle of Maubergeon, Poitiers

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Mazarin was on an outdoor promenade outside the castle courtyard with Queen Anne and young King Louis, profiting from a beautiful sunny afternoon, when he saw a covered cart escorted by four horsemen approach from the road to Blois and Paris. The ten royal guardsmen escorting the King also saw them and started readying their muskets but were stopped by an authoritative gesture from Mazarin.

“Hold! These are my agents and the Marquess of Saint-Laurent.” Those words made young King Louis beam at once with joy.

“Nancy is back?”

His mother looked down at him with amusement.

“You seem quite fond of her, Louis.”

“Uh, I simply admire her for her courage and abilities, Mother.” replied the boy, embarrassed at showing his true feelings like this. His answer made the Queen smile.

“Sure, Louis, I understand.”

Mazarin, himself smiling from the exchange, eyed with satisfaction the group as it approached them and finally stopped besides them. D’Artagnan and his three comrades took off their large felt hats and saluted the King and Queen from atop their horses, while Nancy bowed her head from the driver’s bench of her cart. D’Artagnan was the one to speak next.

“Good day, Your Majesties! We are pleased to report back from duty in Paris.”

“And we are as pleased to see you back in good health.” answered the Queen. “How was your trip?”

“Thankfully uneventful, Your Majesty.” said d’Artagnan. “We were able to evade most of the enemy troops between here and Paris and tricked our way through for the rest with the help of Lady Nancy.”

“Then go make yourselves at home in the castle: you must be both tired and dirty from your long trip.”

“That we are, Your Majesty.” replied d’Artagnan before looking at Mazarin. “Your Eminence, we have extensive details of the enemy troop deployments which we can brief you on afterwards.”

“I wish to listen to that briefing, Monsieur d’Artagnan.” said at once King Louis. “I need to continue my learning of military affairs.”

“You are most welcome to attend, Your Majesty.” replied d’Artagnan, tipping his hat again. Mazarin nodded as well, signifying his consent, then spoke next.

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“While you go take your rooms, I will warn General Turenne, so that he can listen in to your briefing.”

That announcement made D’Artagnan and his three male comrades look at each other with surprise and consternation.

“Monsieur de Turenne is on our side now, Your Eminence?”

“Let’s say that I used some of my diplomatic talents to gain him to our cause.” said Mazarin with a faint smile. “He is now firmly in our camp. Now, go to the castle and tell my intendant, Monsieur Colbert, to provide you with good rooms. You all deserve the best after your perilous mission in Paris.”

“You are too kind, Your Eminence.”

As the four agents rode past him towards the castle, Mazarin made a sign to Nancy to stop her cart as she was about to follow d’Artagnan and his comrades. Followed closely by young Louis, Mazarin then went to her and bowed his head to her in salute.

“Well done, Marquess! You decidedly make a first class agent.”

“You flatter me, Your Eminence.” said Nancy politely. She did smile however when young Louis took her right hand and pressed it while beaming to her.

“I was scared for you, Lady Nancy. My heart is overjoyed at seeing you back well.”

“And seeing you again is a true privilege, Your Majesty.”

“Could I ask you to come tell me more stories about your adventures tonight, milady?”

“How could I refuse a request from you, Your Majesty? I will come see you in the evening, or at your convenience. If you will now excuse me, I would wish to go wash and change and take care of my son a bit, Your Majesty.”

“By all means, Lady Nancy.”

Louis then let Nancy drive away her cart towards the castle, watching her for a while before looking up at Mazarin, an enthusiastic smile on his face.

“Have you ever met such an extraordinary girl before in your life, Cardinal?”

“To be frank, never, Your Majesty.” said Mazarin, thoughtful, as he also followed the cart with his eyes.

Nancy was relaxing while enjoying a hot bath with her baby son when d’Artagnan introduced himself in the bathroom next to the castle’s kitchens despite the protests from the young maid attending Nancy. Flipping a silver coin to the maid to shut her up,

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d’Artagnan then knelt besides the bathtub and smiled to Nancy, admiring her and his son.

“The sight of the two of you makes my heart truly content, Nancy.” He then became serious, turning to business.

“General Turenne will be ready to listen to our briefing in one hour. Do you want to brief him or I will do it?”

“Do it, Charles. I don’t want to attract more attention to me than necessary. I already am becoming a bit too well known around the court as it is.”

“I understand. Still, don’t hesitate to correct me if I miss something during the briefing.”

Nancy caressed his cheek after he said that, eyeing him tenderly at the same time.

“Charles, stop selling yourself short. My origins may be extraordinary but you are still yourself an extraordinary man whom I am most proud and happy to love. You will do just fine.”

“Thanks, Nancy. Loving you is the greatest privilege I ever had in my life.” said d’Artagnan before kissing her, then kissing his baby son before leaving. Nancy sighed, content, as she sat in her bath: life in the 17th Century may have been hard but it had its good points.

D’Artagnan was on his way back to his room when he met Cardinal Mazarin, who was alone, in the hallway. His master then signaled him to follow him to a deserted storeroom, where he closed the door behind them before facing d’Artagnan.

“My dear d’Artagnan, you are without a doubt the best man who could answer my questions about a certain subject.”

“Ask and I will do my best, Your Eminence.” replied politely d’Artagnan.

“It is about your mistress, the Marquess of Saint-Laurent.” D’Artagnan tensed up at once at those words, something that the crafty Cardinal didn’t miss.

“What do you wish to know about Nancy, Your Eminence?”

“All that you know, my good d’Artagnan.”

“But, Your Eminence, hasn’t she proved enough her loyalty to our cause yet? I can assure you that she is not about to betray us. I would in fact trust her with my life.”

“I know that you would and I do not fear any betrayal from her either, d’Artagnan. I am just curious about where she got all her incredible talents for her young age.”

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D’Artagnan was silent for a moment, torn between his loyalty to his employer and his word given to Farah Tolkonen. He however had only one word.

“I am sorry, Your Eminence, but I vowed to keep her personal history a secret. She may be a most extraordinary and unusual girl but I however can vouch that she has only the good of France in her mind. Please do not press me further on this, Your Eminence.”

It was the turn of Mazarin to be silent for a moment, surprised by his reluctance to speak. Knowing d’Artagnan’s sense of honor, he however chose to let it go at that.

“Very well, d’Artagnan. You may keep her secrets to you if you wish so and I won’t hold it against you. I however expect you to warn me if she is ever to become a threat to France and to King Louis.”

“That will never happen, Your Eminence! I can assure you of that.” Replied at once d’Artagnan without a hesitation and in a most firm tone. That seemed to satisfy Mazarin, who smiled to him and patted his shoulder.

“I believe you, my good d’Artagnan. A girl that can impress so much a man like you must indeed be a gem.”

“She is indeed a gem, Your Eminence, a truly one-of-a-kind gem. Will that be all, Your Eminence?”

“I have only one more question. How would you rate her as a secret agent?” D’Artagnan didn’t hesitate one second then, answering proudly.

“Without equal, Your Eminence. She could turn circles even around me.”

“Indeed?” said Mazarin, truly surprised by that answer but also pleased by it. It thus seemed that young King Louis had fallen enamored of someone well worthy of his attention. That could only be good for the royal cause. Mazarin then promised himself to facilitate access to the King for Lady Nancy as much as he could. With that in mind he dismissed d’Artagnan, who left at once.

They met again one hour later in the King’s study, with Nancy and General Turenne present as well and bent over a map of France. Turenne was a gruff, old soldier with decades of experience and who was adored by his men. While he listened with barely disguised impatience at first, the level of detail of the information given by d’Artagnan soon made him pay close attention to what was said. At one point he fingered the map at a spot north of the city of Orléans.

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“You say that there was a major enemy camp there? How many troops were there? Did they have cannons with them?”

D’Artagnan, not having seen himself that camp, hesitated and looked at Nancy. The latter, wishing she had not been obliged to do this, still answered in d’Artagnan’s place while pointing at a precise point on the map.

“I went by that camp on the eight. At that time I would evaluate the number of troops in the camp at around 4,000 men, most of them infantry. Those soldiers were busy at the time practicing their battle drills and musket loading. I counted about 500 horses in the corral by the camp and saw as well twelve six-pounder brass field guns lined up near a farm building apparently used as a field headquarters by the enemy. From the uniforms and the accent of the troops I met, I would say that they were Alsatian and German mercenaries. There was also a lot of chariot traffic around the camp, with what seemed to be a gunpowder reserve being built up in a barn situated some 300 yards from the camp and kept under tight guard. Another dump on the south side of the camp appeared to contain food and horse feed. From the volumes I saw in that dump, I would guess that there was enough there to supply that force of 4,000 men for at least six weeks. The flag flying over the camp was that of the Duke of Orléans. That is all for that camp, sir.”

General Turenne eyed her in silence for a moment, stunned by the proficiency of her military reporting. Mazarin was also eyeing her, but with interest rather than surprise, while young King Louis looked with awe at her. Turenne then asked her a direct question.

“From where were those supply chariots coming from, mademoiselle?”

“About half came from the direction of Orléans, while the rest came from Paris. The road between that camp and Orléans was heavily patrolled by the enemy and seemed to constitute their main supply road.”

“I see! We are thus probably looking at the reserve force of the enemy, which is in a good position to block to us the road to Paris. This is indeed useful information. I will have to somewhat change my troop dispositions in light of this.”

“Glad to have been of help, General.” replied d’Artagnan, allowing Nancy to back off from the map table. Turenne then saluted the King and asked for his permission to leave, which Louis gave at once. With the old general gone, Louis went at once to Nancy.

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“Marquess, there are still a couple of hours left before suppertime. Would you be so kind as to help me practice my fencing with you in the meantime?”

“But, wouldn’t Monsieur d’Artagnan be more qualified for that, Your Majesty?”

“Maybe,” said maliciously the young king, “but it would be more agreeable with you.”

The men around her grinned at those words, while Nancy shrugged and gave an apologetic look at d’Artagnan.

“I can’t deny that, I guess. Could you find me two practice swords, Charles?”

“Right away, Nancy.” said d’Artagnan, amused by all this. As he went away, Louis gallantly took Nancy’s hand and guided her towards the door of his apartments.

“Let’s go to the main hall for the practice: there is ample space there.”

To Nancy’s secret annoyance, that simple sword practice ended up attracting most of the nobles of the court and a goodly amount of the servants as well, with whispered comments flying around the growing crowd of spectators as young Louis faced off Nancy, a sword with a dull blade and flat tip in his right hand. Nancy, dressed in a court gown and wearing a set of jewels, didn’t look much like the swordsman type at this time, which was bound to make her real fencing abilities hit the general psyche even more. She knew that but also knew that she couldn’t pretend being a beginner with a sword, not with all that had happened around her in the last ten months. With Queen Anne, Cardinal Mazarin and d’Artagnan looking on, Nancy started the practice by asking King Louis to make a few attack passes in order to judge his present level of expertise with a sword. While proving more than fair for his age, Louis showed that he was still no duelist yet, thus Nancy concentrated on teaching him a few new passes of average difficulty. To his credit, the young king learned fast and mostly mastered those new moves within half an hour. Nancy then declared a short pause to allow Louis to have a refreshment, herself using the break to go hold her son for a few minutes. All the spectators stayed around in the meantime, since no sensible courtier would walk away from an occasion where he or she could publicly applaud the King while being noticed by others. Nancy couldn’t even tell herself that this was typical of this century, as the art of ass-licking was truly a timeless one.

As they were about to resume the practice, King Louis smiled to her and proposed something in an enthusiastic tone.

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“Marquess, how about showing me your best moves?”

“Uh, Your Majesty, I don’t want to insult you but such moves would need to be practiced against an expert opponent in order to be demonstrated properly.”

“Monsieur d’Artagnan could jump in if you want to, Your Majesty.” proposed Cardinal Mazarin right away, surprising both Nancy and d’Artagnan but firing up young Louis.

“Great idea, Your Eminence! That should make for a splendid fencing

demonstration. Here, Monsieur d’Artagnan, take my sword.” Unable to refuse such a request from his king, d’Artagnan took the practice sword and faced Nancy in the middle of the main hall. Nancy could see in his face that he didn’t know how to take this. She could also guess that Mazarin had some ulterior motive in proposing such a duel. Resigning herself to the possible fallouts from this, Nancy saluted her lover with her sword.

“Give me your best, Charles.”

Seeing d’Artagnan still hesitate, Nancy went to the offensive, advancing on him with a flurry of quick sword passes. D’Artagnan was taken by surprise by her assault and nearly let one thrust pass through his defense. Nancy froze for a moment, her face close to his, and grinned.

“You need to do better than that, my dear Charles, or I will whip up your butt.”

“Nobody whips my butt with a sword!” replied d’Artagnan, catching on to the fun, before going himself on the offensive. He was not a little surprised to then see Nancy counter all his moves with the skill of a master, something that also made the crowd of spectators and King Louis open their eyes wide.

“Where did you learn to fence like this?” wondered d’Artagnan, making Nancy smile devilishly.

“My big sister taught me.”

Another, even more intricate exchange of passes and parries followed for a good minute, an eternity in professional fencing, with the movement of their blades so quick that one could barely follow them visually. Still, none of the two opponents appeared to enjoy a clear edge on the other. Mazarin, who was watching the duel very closely, knew for a fact that d’Artagnan was easily one of the best swordsmen in France, if not in Europe. To see a teenage girl equal him was something close to incredible and also said a lot about the level of training of that girl. With all the other skills already shown by Nancy, she had to have been trained hard since her preteen years. For Mazarin that could

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mean only one thing: a government-trained elite spy or assassin, or maybe a member of a secret sect or organization. However, Mazarin considered himself an astute judge of men and women and couldn’t believe that Nancy was hiding some dark, sinister objective aimed at France. She also didn’t fit the profile of a fanatic of any kind. The more he saw of her, the more of a mystery she became to him.

Two more frenzied exchanges went on, with no clear point made on either side, before Nancy and d’Artagnan decided on a common accord to put an end to the duel. King Louis and the other spectators then applauded them enthusiastically, with Louis going to Nancy and taking hold of her left hand.

“Marquess, you must teach me fencing!”

Nancy, breathing a bit fast after her exercise, gave the only answer she could and curtsied to the King.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Pleased with himself, Louis then turned around and shouted an order at the servants present.

“LET’S DRINK TO THOSE TWO VALIANT COMBATANTS! WINE, FOR

EVERYONE!”

Happy cheers greeted that order. As the servants present hurried to get cups for all, d’Artagnan approached Nancy and whispered near her ear.

“I didn’t suspect that you were that good with a sword, Nancy. You keep surprising me all the time.”

Nancy only smiled at that, unwilling to tell him about the souvenirs from her past incarnations. She accepted a towel brought to her by a servant and sponged the sweat on her forehead, then gave him her practice sword and went to get her baby, who was crying in his basket. Young King Louis nearly licked his lips when she denuded her right breast to offer it to her baby.

“Uh, how about coming to my room tonight to tell me more stories about your adventures, Marquess?”

“Could I come for only an hour or two, Your Majesty? I don’t want to leave my baby alone too long.”

“I can have a maid watch over him during your visit.” shot back Louis, who was at least persistent if not subtle. Nancy, knowing that she was only part of the beginning of a long procession of women in the life of that king, took that in stride.

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“I will come at around ten in the evening then, Your Majesty. Would that be convenient for you?”

“Very, Marquess.” replied happily the boy. Louis then left her, returning towards his mother and Cardinal Mazarin. D’Artagnan took that chance to join back with Nancy. He now had a sober expression on his face that was not hard for Nancy to identify.

“Charles, the King again asked me to come at night to his room. Will you forgive me if I do go?”

Her lover sighed at those words but nodded his head anyway.

“As I said once before, I myself made more than one man cuckold and we are not married to each other. The King is also, well, the King.” Nancy caressed with one hand his face, trying to console him.

“If it can help, Charles, know that I will always love you truly, even in the event that you marry another woman.”

Seeing a servant pass nearby with a platter full of wine cups, Nancy grabbed two cups and gave one to d’Artagnan before raising her own cup and speaking softly.

“To our eternal love, Charles.”

“To our eternal love.” replied d’Artagnan, knocking his cup against hers.

15:09 (Paris Time)

Sunday, June 7, 1654

Cathedral of Reims, northeast of Paris

France

Nancy, wearing her best court dress and richest jewels, was watching from the front rank of spectators the official crowning of King Louis XIV, who was now nearly seventeen years old. As much as confirming Louis XIV as the sovereign of France, the flamboyant ceremony was meant to celebrate the end of the civil war of the Fronde, which had cost so many lives and nearly ruined the country. The instigators and leaders of the Fronde were now either in jail, dead, exiled or on the run. Unfortunately for France, the Fronde had now given place to a new war, this one against Spain, which was occupying a number of French cities in the north of the country. Worst still, the Prince of Condé, not content to revolt against his king during the Fronde Uprising, had sold himself to the Spaniards, adding treason to insurrection. D’Artagnan, who was now a lieutenant in the King’s Guards Regiment and was about to parade with his unit after

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the crowning, would soon be leaving for war against the Spaniards. Nancy, who had spent over two years non-stop in this century, save for a few short breaks back to the Time Patrol main base with her toddler son, had seen and documented in detail the fighting and struggle for power at the side of d’Artagnan and of King Louis, as the unofficial mistress of both of them. With her discreet video recordings of this crowning ceremony to cap it, the Time Patrol would soon be able to release an extensive documentary, both in video and in print, of the Fronde Uprising, thanks in great part to Nancy’s work. While that documentary would most probably bring her fame in the France of 1956 ‘B’, Nancy was much more taken by the fact that d’Artagnan was going to leave for years of war in the field. She knew that he would survive, being wounded only once during the next months, but she still was deadly concerned for him. She was not however going to be able to follow him, at least for the first year, as she had to leave soon on another mission with the Time Patrol.

Little Charles, now two years and one month-old, spent most of the ceremony in either her arms or sitting across her shoulders, thus being able to see much of it well. While the crowning ceremony bored him, he loved the following military parade, waiving with Nancy as d’Artagnan went by at the head of his mounted company. After the troop review was completed, Nancy went at once to the King, trying to intercept him before he left for his temporary apartments in Reims. She caught him as he was waiting for his carriage and, having open access to him, approached him and curtsied in front of him while holding the hand of little Charles.

“Your Majesty, I have one little favor to ask you on this day of your crowning.”

“Speak, my dear Nancy, and you shall have it.”

“Your Majesty, I request of you a leave of absence of less than two years, so that I could go visit my birth place in New France.”

Louis, who had been in a good mood until now, thought for a second before sighing with regret and taking her hand to make her get back on her feet.

“Those will be long months for me, my friend, but I understand your wish. Further, such a trip would fit most rightfully with your title of Marquess of Saint-Laurent. May you have a safe trip to New France and back.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Then leaving the King with his courtiers and guards, Nancy went with little Charles to her faithful horse Pegasus, tied along dozens of other horses to one side of the cathedral.

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D’Artagnan had already been warned by her of her trip and had given her his goodbyes, so she was able to leave at once, little Charles sitting in front of her in the large saddle. Galloping along the main streets of Reims, she soon left the city and took the road to Paris. A few kilometers down the road she turned left on a small trail as she was going through a forest. Now being out of sight of any possible witness, Nancy activated a hidden switch and made a small control panel and flight control stick emerge from Pegasus’ neck. Grabbing the stick, she then punched in the spacetime coordinates for her trip back in time to the Time Patrol main base and spoke to her robotic horse.

“Pegasus, bring us home!”

The horse flew off the ground at once, then disappeared with her and her son in a flash of white light.

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Barricades in the streets of Paris, June Revolution of 1848.