by D C Young
Though she'd had every intention of returning to her beleaguered regency immediately after her pleasure trip to Paris, the death of King Henry II had brought those plans to an abrupt halt. With King Henry dead, his fifteen-year-old son was made King of France and in the same instant, Marie's daughter, Mary, became Queen Consort.
Given the relationship between France and Scotland, Marie believed it was in the best interest of both nations if she stayed by her daughter's side while Mary adjusted to the new role.
The Queen, Catherine de Medici, had famously exerted her power when she denied Henry's long time mistress, Diane, permission to see him on his deathbed; even though he repeatedly asked for her. Marie took that as a sign of potential discord during the young couple's ascent to the French throne.
Her concerns were unwarranted however; since it was clear Queen Catherine was as determined as Marie to see Francis II's and Mary's success as the rulers of both France and Scotland.
The truth was that Catherine had acted purely out of spite or the woman, who she quickly sent into exile out of Paris to Chaumont-sur-Loire. Shortly after, Diane returned to her own properties in Anet, where she remained for the rest of her life.
With Elizabeth I on the throne in England, Marie's role in both countries took on a great deal of significance. Elizabeth was following in her father's footsteps; beating back papal authority and lending strength to the rise of the Protestant faith on the continent as well as the British Isles. Marie's tie in France helped her daughter and King Francis II solidify their position and cling to power against the onslaught.
Torn between whether to support and uphold her daughter in France or return to Scotland where her daughter was truly queen was a choice more difficult to make than the one she had made two decades before.
Her anxiety quelled however, when within weeks he delegated his power to his wife's uncles from the noble House of Guise: Francois, Duke of Guise, and Charles, Cardinal of Lorraine The call of Scotland and protecting her daughter's throne there finally won out as the threat of the Scottish Protestants continued to grow and there were fewer leaders of consequence to stem it at home than there were in France. In May of 1560, she set sail for Edinburgh, leaving one conflict behind and walking right into another.
The wish for simpler times, which she had made while drifting along upon the River Seine, vanished like vapor the moment her feet were on solid ground in Scotland. Not one to procrastinate, Marie took charge and began to put things back in order, knowing that the tenacity of Elizabeth I as well as that of John Knox of the Protestant movement was not to be dawdled with. She was successful in stemming the rapidly rising tide in three weeks time, but in the process there was a price to pay.
“Your Majesty,” Antoinette addressed her as she entered Marie's chamber, drew open the blinds and made certain that the fire had been stoked up and was warming the room. She came to Marie's bed side and looked tenderly upon the woman to whom she had been attendant well before she had risen to her status as Regent Queen. “Shall I send for someone to help you dress?”
Marie shook her head in response. The ability to form words had left her some days before. Though whenever she awakened each morning she was determined that she would be able to speak, the words did not come.
In fact, it seemed with each passing day that organizing her thoughts was becoming more and more difficult. She feared that if she waited much longer she would no longer be able to think clearly at all. Drawing herself up in her bed, she motioned for the writing instruments she had been using during recent days.
Antoinette brought them to her and stood by to watch over her and follow her command.
I will write out my will today.
“Marie” Antoinette protested. “That is hardly necessary. You are a young woman and still strong. You will pull through this.”
Nevertheless, I will write out my will.
“Then I shall bring someone to assist you,” Antoinette responded.
Marie nodded, held up her hand as a signal to wait, and then began to write again.
You have been so very faithful to me. Though I had wished that you had stayed in France instead of returning here with me, I am glad that you are here in this hour.
With tears forming in her eyes, Antoinette read the words, and then responded. “It has been my greatest pleasure to serve you, Your Majesty.”
Perhaps we should end for Margaret?
“I have already done so,” Antoinette replied. “I knew that you would request her.”
You know me so well.
“I have attended you for twenty-four years,” Antoinette replied. “Though it seems like it has only been a few weeks since you were a young, pretty maiden in the court of the King of France with the whole world ahead of you.”
Oh, what a world was ahead of me. We have shared enough pain to last a lifetime. I wish you had been able to share those few hours with me on the Seine.
Antoinette laughed “It is best if no one ever knows that I was involved or that it ever happened.:
It happened. It is still happening here and here. Marie touched her temple and then her heart.
Antoinette looked upon Marie with complete adoration. “I am glad that it happened and is still happening.”
Me too. Now, go on and fetch the solicitor...
“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Antoinette departed quickly to carry out her command.
Marie sank back into the pillows propped up behind her. She removed the page upon which she had been writing notes to Antoinette and began a letter.
Mary, My Perfect Light,
From the first moment I laid eyes upon you, you have shone through the darkness giving me hope in the future as well as purpose. As the likelihood of the future fades away before me, I want you to know that you have been and will forever be my perfect light. Your spirit is strong like your father but you exceed us both in grace. I fear that Scotland will not only be the death of me, but will wear you down well before your time as well.
When you rule Scotland you will need a firm hand. These are a rugged lot of brigands who require firmness mixed with refinement. You are well suited to rule, but you will need to draw upon your father's spirit to hold your place. Elizabeth, though she is your cousin, is not to be trusted nor trifled with. She is as ruthless as her father, but combines the wicked wiles of the feminine kind with Henry's ambition and cruelty. Deal fairly and firmly with her on one hand, but be prepared to dodge the dagger in her other.
Antoinette, who has served me well, will be ordered back to France and be afforded what I have provided for her in my will. Make certain that my wishes concerning her are looked after. She has been like my own mother in serving me...
Marie continued to advise her daughter about affairs of state, recorded as many bits of advice for ruling a kingdom as she could think of, some of which she had already passed on t her while she was with her in France. She was wrapping up her letter when Antoinette announced the arrival of the solicitor. Marie scribbled out a quick note to Antoinette as she handed her the folded paper she had just finished writing upon.
Have this sealed with my personal seal and be sure that you place this in my daughter's hands yourself.
“I will do as you wish,” Antoinette responded. “Is there anything else you would require at the moment?”
Marie shook her head.
“Very well. I will order your lunch to be brought at the usual hour.”
Marie nodded and smiled at her.
Marie looked on as Antoinette left, thinking fondly of how she had served her so faithfully for such a long period of time. She was aging, had some stiffness beginning to develop in her joints and did not have the energy she once possessed, but she still found a way to overcome all of those things in order to take care of her regal charge.
If there ever was a living saint Marie thought, before turning to get down to business with the well dressed man awaiting her instructions.
With her will written out, witnesse
d by the solicitor and sealed, Marie had been pretty well spent. She had only dabbled at the lunch Antoinette brought her and the evening meal as well.
Eating no longer interested her. Very little interested her, except for gazing out the window at the summer garden below. How many times had she pondered life, struggled with decisions and came up with answers while gazing out that window and others just like it?
A second day passed after she had written her letters and made out her will and it had followed along the same way as the first. As the sun set on that second day and she turned away her evening meal once more, she laid back on her bed and let out a heavy sigh.
“Are you comfortable, Your Majesty?” Antoinette asked. Her attendant had refused to leave her side, even when Marie had dismissed everyone else from the room.
Marie nodded her response.
Marie had heard the quiet whispering of the surgeon and knew what was to come. She reached out and took hold of Antoinette's hand and smiled.
Then, there was a faint creak at the door and some whispering.
“You may leave us, Antoinette,” Margaret said softly. “Take the surgeons with you.”
The doctors were ushered out of Marie's chambers through adjoining rooms and Antoinette unwillingly followed them. She did not want to leave Marie when she could die at any minute. Margaret went to the door and new visitors were let into the chamber.
Oblivious to her surroundings, Marie took a deep breath and sighed as the memory of her husbands, Charles, her dead sons, her daughter Mary, France, Paris, the River Seine and her time in Scotland entered into her mind. As soon as the memories had come, they passed and were replaced by the face of her eternal love, her beloved, her first and her final companion Louis.
The face remained before her: unmoving and unwavering. One that was as familiar as the view from her window and as reassuring as if the Madonna herself had come to take her into heaven. As she felt her last breaths approaching, Marie was finally able to form words on her lips again.
Looking up at what she knew must be an illusion she uttered her last word as a mortal being...
“Louis?”
There was a pain at her wrist, then more memories; sweet memories She felt as light as a feather until someone placed something to her lips and told her to drink. She felt lighter and lighter the more she drank but then the vessel was taken away.
As she lay still and gazed up toward the glittering diamonds on their velvet mantle she began to drift into a deep semi-conscious sleep; unceremoniously leaving the burden of her life behind.
Monsieur Nostradame, she thought at one point while dreaming, you were right. I will live forever and never stop looking Death in the eye.
Chapter Ten
“Julia?”
“This is she.”
“Good morning, this is Kingsley Fulcrum. A friend of Samantha Moon's.”
“Ah, yes. Kingsley, I've heard a lot about you. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
“Well, I was kind of hoping you had some news about Sam and Allison. It's been days since I've heard from either of them.”
“Is that so? I haven't heard from her since the séance at Chambord but I assumed it was because they were deep in the investigation and that she was keeping in touch with her local contact, a werewolf by the name of Kullervo Jorgesson.”
“I got a call from her two days ago to say they were heading out into the country to a place called Chateau de Ratilly. That's where they believe Antoinette is being held. She said she would check in but I haven't heard from her. Perhaps this Kullervo guy has some news?”
“I'd certainly hope so, but I find it strange he wouldn't have passed the information along to us.” Julia paused for a moment. “Hold one moment, Kingsley. Let me see if Bjorn has spoken to him.”
Kingsley could hear as Julia set the receiver down on the table and walked away. Then she was calling out to someone in the distance. He heard some mumbled conversation and then Julia was picking up the phone again.
“Bjorn has not heard from Kullervo since he saw Bathory off at the train station.”
“That's not good news, that was four days ago.”
“Indeed.”
“What should we do, Julia. I think something may have gone wrong. It's very unlike Sam not to check in with at least one person when she's out on a case.”
“Let me make a call to Paris. I'll call you back when I know something,” Julia replied quickly.
“Okay. Please see what you can find out and let me know what is going on.”
“I will Kingsley, thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
With that, Julia hung up the phone and immediately dialed the number for the Hotel de Crillon. Kullervo had taken a room there after Sm and Allison's departure from Paris so he could be easily reached day and night.
“Room 1620, please,” Julia said calmly into the phone when the hotel receptionist answered.
“Certainly, Madam. I am connecting you now.”
Kullervo picked up after one ring. “Sam?” he bellowed into the phone.
“No, Kullervo, it is Julia. I assume from your reaction that you haven't heard from her either.”
“No, I haven't and she isn't answering her phone either. Neither is Allison.”
“I know. I tried already.”
“They went to Ratilly a couple of days ago on a morning train and I only heard from Sam two times that day. After about 4pm she went dark and I have heard nothing since. I wasn't sure what to do I mean I could turn up there and completely ruin her investigation by blowing her cover or something.”
“I understand Kullervo, but as of right now I think we're all at the consensus that something untoward has happened to them.” Julia could hear the werewolf groan in anguish at the thought but she couldn't have him agonizing over the situation, she needed him to apply his skill and she knew that was the only way to rid the werewolf of his guilt. “I need you to retrieve the assets, all three, as quickly as possible. Do whatever you need to in order to achieve the mission. Call in whoever and bring in whatever you feel is needed, Kullervo. We need to get our girls back.”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
“Call me when you have something to report.”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
With that Julia hung up the phone and held her head in despair. She had put on a brave voice to instruct the soldier in Kullervo Jorgesson but on the inside she was caving from guilt and anguish.
If something terrible had happened to Sam and Allison on her watch she would never be able to forgive herself.
“Please, Goddess Diana,” she prayed, softly. “Protect my warriors in their time of battle.”
***
Sam woke up with a start to find herself engulfed by darkness.
The air was damp and smelled a little like death.
How death would smell if it had been recently sanitized with Pine-sol.
It's not the time to try to be funny, Moon. Allison admonished from somewhere nearby.
Sam couldn't tell where her exact location was though. She let her eyes slowly adjust to the dark to see if she could find Allison in the room.
Soon enough, Sam could make out her surrounding. It seemed to be a dug out cellar, most likely the room below the hidden door they'd found in the kitchen wall earlier. There were no windows but Sam guessed it was sometime near daybreak.
She tried to move her hands towards her pockets but found they were shackled behind her back. Leaning against the wall behind her, she walked her feet up and used the solid surface to ease herself into a standing position.
She swooned and almost fainted, leaning quickly against the wall again for support.
Easy now, Missy. They fed on you before they left us down here to rot.
What Why would they... oh, shit!
Yup. We're dealing with a bunch of cannibal vamps.
This just gets better and better, doesn't it?
I'd say!
When she'd regained her bala
nce, Sam tried to move over to where Allison was resting in a corner of the room. She soon realized that her hands were not only cuffed together but also chained to the wall where she had been laying.
Oh, come on! This couldn't get worse.
It could. But we won't let things get that far, will we, Moon?
Sam looked over at Alison. She seemed to be in a slightly better condition than she was but in tremendous pain.
They bit me all over.
Oh my god, Allison. I'm so sorry.
I think they thought I tasted funny. Couldn't figure it out then they moved on to you.
Oh, girl. Can you reach me? I'm at the end of my chain.
I don't know. I can try.
The length of chain that held Allison tethered by the wrists to the wall barely got her to where Sam was stretched out on the ground reaching for her. Sam bit her wrist and offered it to Allison.
At least one of us can be 100%.
Allison reached out as far as she could and barely got a mouthful of Sam's blood before the wound closed up, but it was all she needed. They both watched as all the bites on Allison's legs and arms closed up and her energy was renewed.
Thanks, Sam.
No problem, girlie.
Here take some blood from me now. At full strength, these chains should be nothing for you to break through It was the one thing those morons didn't bother to think about.
Allison offered her wrist to Sam.
Not yet. Recover a little first. We need to come up with a plan and hopefully by then breaking these chains out of this wall will actually be of some use to us.
Suddenly there was a scuffling at the far end of the room. It was coming from the stairs. Silently, they watched to see who was coming down into the cellar. There wasn't much light as the door swung open.
The staircase must be curved or have a corner in it. Sam thought so Allison could hear.
Slowly, the dirty, disheveled form of a young woman revealed itself on the stairs and made its way towards Sam and Allison.
As soon as she knelt down on the ground in front of them, Sam and Allison gasped in unison, “Antoinette!”