Honour and the Sword (45 page)

There was a girl in a light-coloured dress standing on the terrace holding her shoes, and a soldier climbing out of a window behind her. It was the little window on the corner of the north and west walls, the one Arnould said was a store-room, but it was barred, I knew it was, we’d looked at it a hundred times.

The soldier straightened up, waved cheerfully at the passing patroller, then turned back to the window and carefully screwed the bar back in place. The girl took his arm and they set off towards the trees together, swinging their shoes as they went.

Anne du Pré

Extract from her diary, dated 6 June 1639

My hand is shaking so much it is difficult to write.

Pablo and Luiz came again, doubtless hoping Jeanette’s visit would draw me away as before. I know they blame my presence for Colette’s refusal to go to their hateful party, for they continually speak in whispers, looking round in the most irritated way.

Today, however, Luiz came to speak to me. I am sure he only wished to distract me, but he really was quite unbearable. He sat on my footstool and told me stories about his father at the siege of Breda. I displayed no interest in his remarks, but he would not leave me alone, and when I went to fetch green silk from my box to do the patch by the eye, he followed and leant over my shoulder to admire the colours. I turned at last and begged him to go away and let me attend to my embroidery.

He appeared oddly disconcerted, and said sulkily ‘Why must you always be so unfriendly, Mademoiselle? Your family is nothing special, I think. There are ladies at home who would go on their knees to have me pay them this much attention.’

I said politely ‘Then the remedy is in your own hands, Señor.’

He laughed. ‘Ah, but we are stuck in this wretched dungheap, Mademoiselle, we must take such company as we can find.’

He stood smiling at me, his dark eyes gleaming, this man who connived at what was done to my sister. I said in desperation ‘You have women of your own here, I have heard them downstairs. Why must you bother my sister?’

He said ‘Really, Mademoiselle, such a question. Your sister is the daughter of a Baron, how can you speak of her in such a connection?’

‘How can you
think
of her in such a connection?’

He regarded me in silence for a moment, and I think he saw the need for pretence was over. He sighed, reached out to the dressing table and picked up my handkerchief. ‘It thinks itself very fine, does it not?’ he said, admiring the lace edging and embroidered crest. ‘But it is still a handkerchief, and has exactly the same purpose as my own. And when I need to blow my nose, I derive much greater pleasure from doing it on this one.’ He actually blew his nose into my handkerchief, right before my face. ‘A gentleman can develop a taste for such things, Mademoiselle. Do you understand?’

He was grinning at me, a terrible, knowing leer, and I could not bear it a moment longer, I struck out and slapped him with all my might.

Colette gave a little cry, but Pablo only threw back his head and laughed. ‘Poor de Castilla!’ he said. ‘I take it that’s another “no”?’

Luiz’s face was darkening red, and he turned on me so savagely I was forced to back away. He planted his hand against the wall and leant forward over me, pushing his face close to mine, and I couldn’t move any further away, the dressing table was hurting my back. I was aware of the door opening and people coming in, but could not take my eyes from Luiz, he was frightening me. He said ‘You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Mademoiselle,’ and I tried to turn my head away, but then a voice cried ‘Leave her alone!’ and there was Jeanette seizing hold of Luiz’s arm and trying to pull him away.

Luiz turned and struck her so hard across the face she fell against the wall. Colette was screaming, the Slug was shouting, Pablo was laughing, Florian was storming out of his bedroom, then I heard a new voice in the hubbub, there was another soldier in the room, and I saw with relief it was the Owl. Perhaps he was due to take over duty from the Slug, or perhaps he just heard the shouting, it didn’t matter, he was
there
, and at sight of him everything went quiet. Luiz stepped casually away from Jeanette, as if he had never touched her.

The Owl looked quite red with anger at seeing two junior officers in our apartment, and one of them assaulting our servant. He assisted Jeanette to her feet, then turned sharply on Pablo and Luiz, firing questions in rapid Spanish. It was too fast for me to follow, but I think Pablo tried to dismiss him, and the Owl stood his ground. He was only a common soldier and they were both enseignes, but he stood his ground, our good, kind Owl. I heard him say several times the words ‘Capitán d’Estrada’, and finally ‘Don Alonso’, who is chief of police, at which both Pablo and Luiz began to look like sulky children, and the Slug seemed quite terrified. Beside me Colette was muttering ‘Oh God, Anne, what have you done? Everything’s ruined, what have you done?’

The Owl finished speaking. After a moment, Luiz turned to us, but he wouldn’t look at me, he spoke only to Colette. He said ‘I’m sorry, Mademoiselle, but it seems we are no longer welcome here.’ My heart leapt with joy, and perhaps he sensed it, for he turned next to my gallant Jeanette and said contemptuously ‘And neither is this woman. If she sets foot in the Château again I’ll have her arrested.’

I protested at once that Don Miguel himself had said she could come, but he only slid his eyes round to me, and the look in them was so cold I wanted to shiver. He said ‘She is no hostage, she is an ordinary civilian who has attacked a Spanish officer, and can count herself lucky she’s not hanged.’

There was a dead silence. The Slug stepped forward and seized Jeanette by the arm, but she insisted she had clothes to return to us, things to sort out, she could not just leave. I think the Slug would have dragged her out anyway, but the Owl spoke shortly to him, and he grudgingly accompanied her to the bedroom. I tried to follow, but the Slug ordered me back. We were not even to have a chance to speak.

I could not bear to lose Jeanette. She is our only link to the outside world, and our only means of communication with André. Sometimes I feel she is my only friend. I whispered to Colette ‘I will not accept it, I will appeal to Don Miguel.’

‘And how will you explain it?’ said my sister. There was no sympathy on her face, only a kind of miserable anger. ‘For God’s sake, Anne, haven’t you done enough damage?’

I felt as if she had struck me. I looked wretchedly round the room, but the Owl was helpless and Florian only looked away. Luiz regarded me with satisfaction, and nodded his head as if pleased with what he had accomplished. He said to Pablo ‘Come on, Vasquéz, we’re finished here,’ and strolled complacently out.

Pablo looked at Colette, shrugged, and said ‘Well, goodbye, Mademoiselle.’ Colette looked up at him, her face both anxious and strangely hard. Her voice was very low, but I heard her say ‘You can always come back.’

Pablo hesitated, then said ‘I’m sorry, but de Castilla’s right. There’s nothing for me here.’ He started after Luiz, then paused and looked back at her, and for a moment the old boyish smile flitted back on to his face. He said lightly ‘Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind?’

They looked at each other, and I think I held my breath. Colette was very still.

‘Will you?’ said Pablo softly. The Owl was watching uneasily, uncertain what was being discussed. His French is still poor.

Colette took a deep breath and said ‘Yes.’

Pablo smiled in triumph, bowed and went out. The sound of the door closing behind him felt like the end of my whole world. Jeanette was lost to us, André was beyond reach, and what would become of my sister I knew only too well. Almost worse than anything was the terrible truth that Colette was right, it was all my own fault. I think for a moment I wanted to die.

Jeanette came out of the bedroom with the Slug close at her elbow, hustling her to the door. She paused in front of me, managed a little smile, then took out the rose from her corsage and laid it gently in my hand. It was small and tightly furled still, but it was salmon-pink and smelt of summer in the garden, and I thought it beautiful. The Slug looked at it suspiciously, as if it might be some kind of weapon, but Jeanette ignored him and spoke directly to me.

‘It’s not much, Mademoiselle,’ she said. ‘It’s only from the garden of a friend, and he’s afraid it won’t keep above a fortnight.’ Her eyes found mine and held them.

I managed to say ‘A fortnight?’

‘Not even that,’ she said. ‘If you keep it in water it might last twelve days, but my friend is certain it will be no longer.’

I felt my knees trembling beneath my dress, and could not say a word. There was no opportunity anyway, for the Slug was hurrying Jeanette out again and we could do no more than exchange one last look before the door was shut.

Our darling Jeanette. After all she was threatened with, she still braved everything to give me this message and the hope it brings with it. André is coming. He is coming when I asked it, on 18 June. He is coming to rescue us.

Oh God.
Oh God.
He is coming at last.

Nineteen

Jacques Gilbert

18 June 1639. That’s the day my world ended.

I remember waking up that morning. You know what it’s like when there’s something scary ahead of you, it’s like your body has a better memory than your brain. You wake up with that kind of distant sick feeling in your belly, and you say to yourself ‘What’s this?’ and then your brain catches up and you remember. That’s what it was like when I woke that morning, and remembered it was Saturday 18 June, and it was today.

I sat up and looked around me. Stefan was flat on his back snoring as usual but Marcel was sitting hugging his knees and biting his nails, and we exchanged a look that said he was feeling as sick as me.

The door banged open, and sunlight smashed into the Hermitage as André strode in. His breeches and boots were all muddy, his jerkin was over his arm and his shirt unlaced, he was glowing with sweat and reeked of outdoor energy.

‘Sod off, André,’ said Stefan, burying his face in the straw.

André chucked his jerkin at him, came briskly up to the platform end and started rustling about in our food basket.

‘Did you see her?’ I asked blearily. He rode to the Château every morning these days, just to see Mlle Anne feed the birds. It was his way of assuring himself she was still all right.

He nodded. ‘I was only just in time, she’d nearly finished.’ He picked the least slimy bit of cheese, broke it in two and handed me half. Then he grinned sheepishly and said ‘Maybe she couldn’t sleep either.’

Everyone was feeling the same. When I went outside there were people arriving already for last-minute preparation, and somewhere in the trees I could hear the tell-tale
thunk
that was bloody Bernard practising his crossbow again. He was always at it, Bernard, he knew everything was depending on him, and the trees round the Hermitage were starting to look like giant woodpeckers had been at them.

We were all taking this seriously. Marcel had made sure of it, he didn’t want a repeat of what happened at the gorge. He’d told everyone over and over again about the importance of secrecy with the whole army at stake. We’d been careful anyway, nobody knew the whole plan but the four of us, but the thought of what could happen still scared me. If anything went wrong, the boy would be trapped in the Château, and me not with him to protect him and get him out.

That’s what was really bothering me. It was only Marcel, Stefan and André going in the Château, and for the first time ever I wouldn’t be with him. I knew it made sense, they couldn’t have more than three for the inside team, not with all that furtive shuffling down corridors and hiding round corners, but that didn’t make me feel any better. Stefan couldn’t look after the boy like I would, he didn’t care about any of it as much as we did, all he said when we found that window was ‘I suppose that means we’ll have to do it.’ A bit of me thought André might have insisted on me going in instead, but he didn’t, he knew Stefan was stronger and was only thinking about the best way of getting to Mlle Anne. I understood that, obviously I did, I just couldn’t help wishing we were together, that’s all.

I went back inside, but the boy was poring over the map of the Château with Stefan and Marcel, so I just grabbed my cloak and went to see my family. Lots of people did that before an action, and somehow I was just in the mood. I felt a bit guilty about them actually, because I’d let them down over Christmas and Father had been very disappointed.

It was a good thing to do. Father went on again about giving them notice, and even offered to go to the farm to get something special, but all I really wanted was one of Mother’s omelettes and she’d got eggs enough for that. I used to spend a lot of time thinking about my Mother’s omelettes, especially the ones with cheese in. Simon Moreau was the best cook at the Hermitage, but he couldn’t make omelettes, they came out like sponge.

She made one for me now, and just the smell was calming, but Father still noticed I was jumpy. He said ‘All right, boy, spit it out. What are you up to this time?’

I told him. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, he’d guessed anyway, and this was family, they weren’t going to tell anyone. Besides, it was important what I was doing, Marcel had put me in charge of the whole outside team, I was one of the leaders myself.

Father looked thoughtfully at me. ‘A big operation, then. A lot of men could be killed.’

I mopped up the last bits of omelette with my bread. ‘Someone from just about every family in the Saillie.’

He nodded. Little Pierre wanted more detail, but Father said ‘No more questions, lad, we’ve got to think of security,’ and asked after the horses instead.

I was a bit pissed off actually, I’d have liked him to be more interested, but I knew he meant it for the best. When I was going, he came out after me and said ‘Look, boy, you’ve got to understand this is all very worrying for your Mother.’