Duel at Dawn

by Kevin Berry

  A subaltern shakes her head. She looks frustrated. “Nothing.”

  “Very well, let’s leave. We’ll tell His Eminence that the money isn’t in the house.” And that’s perfectly true, now; it’s in the garden.

  You return to the palace and make your report to Cardinal Richelieu, grim-faced. “We searched everywhere,” you conclude.

  “Right. It’s unfortunate that you didn’t find it, but maybe she already spent it. Anyway, never mind.”

  The cardinal seems to readily accept the loss of the money. “If you don’t mind me asking … what will happen to the chancellor, Your Eminence?”

  “Oh, I dismissed her from her position. She’s too important a person to be sent to the Bastille for this, so I let her go.”

  Your eyes widen. The chancellor lost her job, but that’s all.

  “You can leave now,” the cardinal says. His raven caws at you from his shoulder.

  Four hours later, late at night, you sneak through the streets back to the chancellor’s house. The money bag is buried deep in the shrub where you dropped it, but with a small knife you free it by cutting away part of the plant. You extract the bag. It’s heavy, but you’ll manage to carry it.

  There’s a scratching at the window above you, and you glance up. Is someone looking out? Have they seen you? No, it’s just a bird, staring at you with beady eyes. A raven.

  Not the cardinal’s raven …?

  A flash of light dazzles you. Cardinal Richelieu stands before you, holding a mysterious glowing globe, the source of the illumination. Two of his Guards flank him.

  “You told me that you didn’t find the money. That was an untruth, and you’ll pay for it. Seize the cadet!”

  I’m sorry; this part of your story is over. You’ve had a rather short career as a Lieutenant cadet in the Cardinal’s Guards. You were tasked with investigating the chancellor, whom the cardinal suspected of embezzlement, and you found evidence that she was indeed stealing from the palace funds. After arresting her, you searched her house as instructed and found the missing money. But instead of doing the honest thing and returning it to the palace, you decided to conceal it, return for it later and keep it all for yourself. Somehow the cardinal knew and caught you red-handed when you went back for it.

  Have you figured out how he knew?

  Nevertheless, you’re not an important enough individual to be allowed to go free, so he dismisses you from the Cardinal’s Guards and forces you into a frontier regiment as a lowly-ranking private. You’ll be sent off to fight. You’re not sure who the French are at war with this year, as their enemies change frequently. It could be the Huguenots, or the Germans, or the Danes, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re not likely to survive.

  As this is a You Say Which Way book, you can always change your last choice. Or take a new path altogether to see what adventures you could have. What might have happened if you’d chosen the other task the cardinal offered you? Or chosen to join the King’s Musketeers instead?

  It’s time to make a decision. You have three choices. Would you like to:

  Change your choice and hand the money in to the cardinal?

  Or

  Go to the list of choices and start reading from another part of the story?

  Or

  Go back to the beginning of the story and try another path?

  Hand the money in to the cardinal

  You shake your head and dismiss the thoughts of keeping the money from your mind. It’s not yours. It belongs to the palace, and you’ve been entrusted to find and return it.

  You lug the leather bag downstairs. Servants gasp when they see you with it and realize what it is.

  “Guards!” you call. “I’ve found it. Let’s go.”

  The three other Guards return from wherever they’ve been searching. A subaltern smiles and nods. “We’ll keep you safe on the way back to the palace,” she says.

  Outside, the Guards draw their swords and walk with you to Le Louvre. It’s evident that you’re carrying a bag of coins, but no one dares to come close with the Guards surrounding you.

  They escort you to the cardinal’s offices before you dismiss them. You go inside, grinning, and clinking the money. “Found it!”

  “Excellent!” Richelieu says, beaming. “You’re a real asset to the Guards. Honest and reliable. Well done, Lieutenant cadet!”

  Congratulations, this part of your story is over. You chose to take a commission in the Cardinal’s Guards and were tasked with investigating the chancellor, whom Cardinal Richelieu suspected of embezzlement. You successfully found the evidence of her crime, then retrieved the missing money from her house. The cardinal is delighted with you and strips your ‘cadet’ ranking away, making you a full lieutenant.

  Perhaps you’d like to try some other path in the story. What would happen if you chose to join the King’s Musketeers?

  It’s time to make a decision. Would you like to:

  Go to the list of choices and start reading from another part of the story?

  Or

  Go back to the beginning of the story and try another path?

  Blackmail the chancellor

  The cardinal doesn’t know for sure that the chancellor is embezzling, you think. You can easily say that you haven’t found any evidence in the ledgers indicating stealing. He wouldn’t know otherwise, and if he finds out, he’ll think that you didn’t learn the accounting lessons as well as he expected.

  You grin. Yes, it’s dishonest … but this is modern-day seventeenth century France. Corruption is rife. Why shouldn’t you have a slice of the chancellor’s ill-gotten gains?

  You leave the chancellor’s office and go to the cardinal’s rooms. He’s in his office, reading from a large tome, his raven sitting on the back of the chair. The cover of the mammoth book is inscribed with gold runes.

  He looks up as you enter. “Any progress?”

  “No, Your Eminence. I haven’t found anything in the ledgers that suggests the chancellor is embezzling palace funds.”

  “Hmmm. Right. I’ve had word that she will return to Paris the day after tomorrow. So go back tomorrow and search further. After that, it’ll be too late, and if she suspects anyone’s been in her office poking around, she’ll conceal any evidence there is and we’ll never be able to prove it.”

  That sounds good. You bow. “Certainly, Your Eminence.”

  You spend the next day in the chancellor’s office, staring at the accounting ledgers, though you’re not looking for anything now, just trying to pass the time. At the end of the day, you’ll report that you’ve found nothing again. Cardinal Richelieu might be frustrated by that, but he can hardly blame you for failing to find concealed wrongdoings by the chancellor.

  At the end of the day, you give your report to the cardinal, who frowns, then dismisses you, telling you that your time is your own until the following week when he will prepare the new Guard rosters.

  The following day, you relax with a game of jeu de paume, or real tennis. You, Hubert and two other Guards play in one of the large public courts. Your opponents are skilled in bouncing the ball high off the walls of the court, while you prefer to hit it low over the center of the drooping net.

  Afterwards, you all share a cold drink or two.

  “Another game?” asks Hubert.

  “No, thank you,” you say. “I have an errand to run, and I must take my leave. Good evening.”

  You head towards the chancellor’s house, hoping that she has returned from Lyon by now. As luck would have it, she has arrived, judging by the bustle of servants moving between the house and an elaborate carriage parked outside.

  Once everything has settled, you approach and knock on the door. A bushy-eyebrowed servant answers it.

  “I am here to see Madame Chancellor on a private matter of some urgency,” you say discreetly.

  “Come this way,” the servant says, and takes you to a well-appointed drawing room. A large piano sits at one end, and several poetry books lie u
pon a small table next to a chaise longue. A coat of arms hangs upon the wall.

  “You wish to see me?”

  You turn. Madame Chancellor stands before you, still in her travelling clothes rather than in her fancy court costume. She is about fifty, with sharp, intelligent green eyes.

  “Yes, Madame Chancellor.” You wait while the servant exits the room, then step closer to the chancellor and speak quietly. No doubt servants are listening at the doors.

  Best to be direct. “His Eminence assigned me the task of investigating whether, and how, you are stealing money from the palace finances,” you whisper.

  “Is that so?”

  “It is. And I uncovered evidence that you have been embezzling.”

  The chancellor nods slowly. “And why you are telling me this, instead of reporting it to His Eminence?”

  You smile. “I had the idea we could keep this little secret between ourselves.”

  “I see. And what would it cost me to keep this secret a secret?”

  “Merely twenty-five livres a month, madame.”

  “Outrageous. That is far too much.”

  “Of course, I could report you, Madame Chancellor.”

  “But then you would receive nothing. I will offer you twelve livres a month. That’s a good second income for you.”

  A shiver of excitement runs up your spine. You’re really doing it. Blackmailing one of the highest-ranking palace officials. Wow.

  But will you accept the lower offer or hold out for more money?

  It’s time to make a decision. Do you:

  Accept the lower offer?

  Or

  Hold out for more money?

  Hold out for more money

  “That’s not enough,” you declare. When you blink, images of gold and silver coins flash in your mind. The little green goblin of greed possesses you. “Pay me the full twenty-five livres a month, or I’ll show His Eminence the evidence of your embezzling.” A knot forms in your stomach. You’re bluffing here. You’ve got nothing to show the cardinal, for you put everything in the chancellor’s office back as you found it.

  The chancellor presses her lips together. “I see. Well, in that case, I will have to pay it. I guess you require each month’s payment in advance?”

  Is that standard terms for blackmail payments? You’re not sure, but you agree anyway. “Yes, of course.”

  “Then return here at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning, and I will have the money for you.”

  “I will. Thank you.” It seems incongruous to thank your blackmail victim, but you are polite by nature.

  You leave, barely able to conceal the smile that you feel inside. Yes, blackmail is an illegal and possibly dangerous activity, but it’s exciting—the person in charge of palace finances is now yours to control. What else can you extricate from this situation? Whoever thought becoming a Cardinal’s Guard would open up such opportunities for illicit profit?

  It’s time to celebrate. You find your friend Hubert and go out to a cabaret for dinner. While some of the drunken patrons attempt to sing, you enjoy the food. The escargot is delicious. They really have a way of frying snails in butter that makes them so tasty.

  After dinner, Hubert wants to do some singing of his own. You’ve heard his singing before, so you quickly make your excuses and leave. It’s late anyway. You’d like to return to the barracks for a well-earned rest.

  You open the door and step into the chilly night air. You bounce off a rather large young gentleman who steps into your path.

  “Excuse me, monsieur,” you say, attempting to step around him.

  “I will not. You are really a most clumsy person.”

  You pause. “Is that so?”

  “It is. And what is more to the point, you are a most disagreeable one as well.”

  This is exasperating. He won’t let you pass. “And why do you say that?” you ask coldly.

  “You have made an enemy of a friend of mine. And any enemy of my friend is an enemy of mine. I demand satisfaction.” In the darkness, you don’t even see the glove coming before it slaps you on the face.

  “You will regret this,” you say. Clearly, this oaf has been sent by Madame Chancellor. Well, you were top of fencing in your class at L’Academie. He will learn a lesson or two for his insolence.

  “At dawn, behind the Luxembourg, we will meet. Until then.” He turns to leave.

  “Wait a moment. May I have the pleasure of knowing whom I am going to kill tomorrow morning?”

  “My name is Francois de Montmorency.” He then vanishes into the night with a lightness of foot that seems surprising for such a large fellow.

  You go back into the cabaret to find Hubert, and catch the end of his song. Gritting your teeth against the clamor, you wait a few seconds until the barrage of food thrown in his direction forces him to stop.

  He comes over to you. “I thought you were leaving. What did you think of my song?”

  “It needs work,” you say. Lots of work. “Say, can you help me out tomorrow morning?”

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  “I need you to be my Second.”

  “A duel? What happened? Oh, never mind. Yes, I can be your Second. Who are you fighting?”

  “Someone called Francois de Montmorency. Have you heard of him?”

  Hubert’s face turns ashen. “No,” he whispers.

  “You have not heard of him, then?”

  “We must return to the barracks immediately.” Hubert wipes his forehead with a silk handkerchief. “You should write to your parents, say goodbye to all your friends—”

  “Hubert! Why are you saying that? Who is my opponent?”

  “Francois de Montmorency is the renowned compte de Bouteville, the best duelist in France.”

  “Oh.”

  Hubert’s crestfallen face reflects your sudden drop in mood. A little blackmail seemed harmless. Now it might just get you killed. You would be completely dishonored if you do not face him.

  There are no choices here.

  Go to the duel.

  Accept the lower offer

  “I accept the lower amount,” you say. Something is better than nothing, after all.

  “Very sensible, young cadet. It’s still a lot of money for someone in your position. You’d be best not to spend it too conspicuously in case people become suspicious.”

  “Thank you for the financial advice, madame.” How nice that your blackmail victim offers guidance on how you should manage your ill-gotten gains.

  “Return here at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning, and I will have the first month’s money for you.”

  “I will.” At that point, you take your leave.

  You walk through the Paris streets towards the barracks, a sly grin on your face. Blackmailing the chancellor! Who would believe you? No one, of course. But you can’t risk telling anyone anyway.

  At the barracks, you have some dinner. Nothing special. You don’t want to call attention to yourself. But barely half an hour after you’ve finished eating, when you are in your room reading, there’s a knock at the door.

  You open it. A rather large young gentleman stands there.

  “Good evening. My name is Francois de Montmorency. I hear you are good at fencing,” he says.

  “I like to think so.” Where is this going?

  “And I’ve been told you are very brave.”

  “Is there something you want from me, sir?”

  “Certainly. A duel. If you are good at fencing, and very brave, then we must fight.”

  “But I have no disagreement with you. We have no reason to fight.”

  He looks perplexed. “So you will not fight? But I understood you are very brave.”

  “Yes … but we have nothing to fight over.”

  “Well … I do not like your hat.”

  You frown. “What is the matter with my hat?”

  “You wear it at an angle that displeases me.”

  This is exasperating. “You came here, to tel
l me, a stranger to you, that you want to fight me because you don’t like the way I wear my hat?”

  He thinks about that for a little while. “Yes. That’s it, exactly.”

  Now you are doubtful. “Did someone send you here to confront me?”

  He nods. “My friend, the chancellor. She told me that you are very brave. That is why I want to fight you. That and the way you wear your hat.”

  You sigh. “Very well. Let us get this matter out of the way, then.”

  He beams. “Excellent. We will meet behind the Luxembourg at dawn.” He turns to leave.

  “Wait. You said your name is de Montmorency? I have not heard of you.”

  “I’m the compte de Bouteville.” He grins sadistically and walks away.

  You groan. The renowned compte de Bouteville is the best duelist in France. Just your luck that he is a friend of the chancellor. She’s obviously sent him to get rid of you. And you cannot avoid the duel, as it would bring great dishonor to do so.

  There are no choices here.

  Go to the duel.

  Duel the compte de Bouteville

  You try to keep your spirits up as you walk to the Luxembourg before dawn the next morning, but the grey swirling mist dampens your mood further. You may have only a few minutes longer to live.

  Why, oh why, did you get into this situation? For a few extra livres a month you’ve angered the chancellor, and she’s seen to it that her friend, the deadly duelist the compte de Bouteville, intends to skewer you before breakfast.

  “I’m going to miss you,” Hubert says. He’s your Second, and he’s trudging alongside you in a sour mood.

  “I’m not dead yet!”

  “Have you written those farewell letters?”

  You sigh. “The ones you insisted I write? Yes. They’re in my room at the barracks.”

  “Good. Look, we’re nearly there.”

  You round the corner of the Luxembourg and find the garden area that is sometimes used for duels. Your adversary sees you and beckons you over. He has three Seconds with him, two women and a man. Noticing you only have one, he says, “Never mind, two of my Seconds will watch. Your Second can choose whom to fight.”