by Eric Flint
"They are not what I expected," Josh said, cuddling with Colette in the bed.
"What do you mean?"
Josh nuzzled her neck. "I don't know, I thought the niece of Richelieu would be more, more . . ."
"Evil? Machiavellian?"
Josh nodded.
"People are complex creatures, Josh. Everyone has good and bad qualities. From what Marie de Gournay has written me, Lady Marie has many more good than bad qualities. I like her."
"So do I. Since we are her guests, let's try to be as diplomatic as we can in the weeks ahead."
They fell asleep in each other's arms.
* * *
A week after their arrival they were able to watch the latest play by Pierre Corneille, La Veuve. When Colette expressed her enthusiasm for the play, the marquise encouraged them to use her box at the Hotel de Bourgogne where Corneille's tragedy, Clitandre, was still playing.
"I've already seen it twice, but it is excellent. It closes in three days, however, so you should plan on seeing it soon. Perhaps the evening after tomorrow? I have finally scheduled a night off for you." She chuckled. "You have been wonderful guests, hardly any complaints at all."
"It has been great, Lady Marie," Josh said, "no complaints here. Except for breakfast, of course."
Josh and Colette had been trying for days to convince Stornato to experiment with waffles but without success.
Lady Marie laughed. "I am sure Stornato will succumb eventually."
* * *
Their presence, of course, was discovered by others shortly after their arrival.
"So, Cazet," Cardinal Richelieu said, "the Modis have arrived early?"
Cazet de Vautorte, one of his most trusted intendants along with Etienne Servien, nodded. "Yes. They arrived with Dirck Graswinckel, who is an agent for Louis De Geer. Graswinckel is staying at other lodging, however, with a second agent of De Geer's, Jan de Vries, an ex-artillery officer in the Dutch Army. Your niece has the Modis fully occupied. It is what Graswinckel and De Vries are doing that is disturbing and which prompted me to report."
"And that is?" Richelieu stroked the cat in his lap. It purred and rolled over on its back. He smiled and began rubbing its belly gently.
"Apparently," Cazet said, "they wish to negotiate for mining contracts in North America. In Maryland."
For a second Richelieu stopped rubbing the cat's belly. It batted at his fingers and he resumed his stroking. "So, apparently Louis De Geer has discovered part of our plans. Do we know how?"
Cazet shook his head. "Not positively, but I suspect Jean Houefft revealed something. He and De Geer have extensive business dealings since we often purchase war material in Amsterdam. And De Geer has agents or connections all over Europe. It is difficult to hide anything involving armaments or troops from him."
"True," Richelieu said.
"Do you want me to take care of them?"
Richelieu waved his hand. "We were bound to be discovered, Cazet. At this late date I hardly think it matters. And I certainly don't want De Geer's focus to shift to other issues in the weeks ahead. So it would be best, I think, if negotiations were delayed, don't you?"
Cazet smiled. "As Your Eminence wishes."
* * *
It was upon their return from watching Clitandre at the Hotel Bourgogne that Josh and Colette found a depressed Dirck Graswinckel waiting for them.
Dirck waited until the doors had shut on their room before venting his frustration over the negotiations. "Which aren't even really negotiations," Dirck complained. "Jean Hoeufft is being singularly uncooperative. No minister will talk to us. Those who do talk to us tell us to go to some office where another minister is busy or has already left. Noblemen that I knew when I was here with Hugo Grotius simply shrug and say they can do nothing without permission from Richelieu."
"Have you tried getting an audience with Richelieu?" Josh asked.
Dirck nodded. "Of course, but it is impossible to cut through all the layers. I did get to speak to one of his intendants, a Cazet Vautorte, but he told me that Richelieu was ill and could not be disturbed. Whether that was true or not, I don't know, but it seems we are being thwarted at every turn. Do you think perhaps . . ."
"What, Dirck?" said Colette.
"Perhaps you could speak to the marquise? Appeal to her? Get her to arrange a meeting with Richelieu? She is his favorite niece."
Colette shook her head. "I think that would be inappropriate, Dirck. We were invited to give lectures, not to negotiate business deals."
Dirck sighed. "I know that, Colette. But we may be here for months at this rate."
"He has a point, Colette," argued Josh, "The sooner we get the chromite, the sooner we can get some chemically resistant steel. Remember what I told you Greg Ferrara said. Without some kind of stainless steel no sulfa drugs for infections, no DDT, no chloramphenicol to cure diseases like typhoid and typhus. Or at least not enough to do most of Europe any good."
"We must not presume on our friendship with the marquise, Josh," replied Colette. "Perhaps if things have not changed in two weeks, then we can discuss it again." She turned to Dirck and smiled. "I'm sorry, Dirck. But you'll just have to keep trying on your own for now."
Dirck sighed and shrugged. "All right, but don't be surprised to see me back here in two weeks begging you to reconsider."
* * *
There the matter would have rested but for the sneaky curiosity of two little mice who went by the names of Regina and Catherine.
In the ten days since her arrival, Regina and Catherine had become the best of friends. They had explored every room, hallway, and closet of the Petit Luxembourg. They had eavesdropped on dozens of adult conversations, giggling behind their hands as they did so. Catherine's grandmother took them on tours of Paris by carriage and Regina saw the sights that Josh had told her so much about: The Louvre, Notre Dame, and the Palais Royale. She was disappointed there was no Eiffel Tower, however.
The night that Josh and Colette went off to see Clitandre she had invited Catherine to her room for a slumber party. "The bed is big enough for both of us," Regina told her friend. "And your granmama is staying the night at the Petit Luxembourg as well."
When they had heard the adults returning they scampered under the covers just before Colette peeked her head in the room to check on them. Giggling quietly, they snuck up to the partly open door and listened as Dirck Graswinckel complained about the negotiations.
"Who is that?" whispered Catherine. "He's handsome."
Regina snickered behind her hand. "Dirck Graswinckel. He works for Colette's uncle."
When Catherine heard the part of the conversation about stainless steel and drugs she turned to Regina, her eyes wide. "Can they really do that?" she whispered. Like her mother and grandmother before her she was interested in being a midwife.
"What?" Regina said.
"Stop infections and cure diseases with chloro whatsits."
Regina giggled again. "Chloramphenicol. Yes, the Americans are wonderful chemists."
The two girls tiptoed back into bed when Dirck Graswinckel left. Regina was soon asleep but Catherine lay awake, thinking about infections and disease.
As wonderful as her grandmother was, she could not cure many infections. Oh, there were poultices and different medicinal plants that seemed to help, but often they did nothing. And as for typhus . . . Catherine shuddered. Her grandmother had told her stories of what plague and typhus epidemics could be like. With sudden resolve, she got out of bed quietly so she would not wake Regina. She moved silently down the hallways of the Petit Luxembourg on her bare feet to her grandmother's room.
Louise Bourgeois was a light sleeper and smiled when her granddaughter slid into bed beside her. "What is it little one, a bad dream?"
Catherine snuggled up to her grandmother. She always enjoyed sleeping with her. It felt so warm and safe. Catherine told her grandmother about the conversation she had overheard.
Louise Bourgeois frowned. "Eavesdroppin
g is a sin, young lady. Shame on you."
Catherine lowered her head to her grandmother's shoulder. "I am sorry granmama. Forgive me?"
Louise sighed. "Yes, my dear, I forgive you. But do not forget to confess your sin in church. Now sleep."
Louise stroked Catherine's head and thought about what she had said. So Grantville could cure diseases with chemicals, but they needed material from some mine that the French owned. She would have to talk to the marquise.
* * *
The next evening Josh and Colette dined at the Petit Luxembourg with the marquise, Louise Bourgeois, Marie de Gournay and Theo Renaudot. The after-dinner conversation quickly turned to the morning conference at Renaudot's mansion in which the main subject for discussion had been the admission of women into universities.
"I must admit," Theo said, "that I took a great deal of pleasure in your response to the Comte de Avignon."
Colette laughed. "He just made me so angry! 'Women are too delicate.' 'Women are not the intellectual equals of men.' Ha!"
Josh smiled. "It was Marie I was worried about. I thought for sure she was going to march over and start beating him with her cane."
"That man has been an insufferable bigot for a decade," sniffed Marie. "I just pity his poor wife."
The marquise laughed. "I wish I could have been there. But I did have an interesting conversation with Louise this afternoon." She turned to Josh. "So tell me, what is chromite?"
Oh, oh, thought Josh. Now how did she find out about that?
"Who told you?" Colette asked. She seemed embarrassed.
"Let us just say that the walls have mice," the marquise said, smiling. "Little girl mice with big ears."
Josh explained what chromite was and its importance for making stainless steel and the importance of stainless steel for manufacturing large quantities of drugs and other chemicals.
"Would your government allow you to sell such drugs to France?" Theo asked.
"If we could produce the drugs I've mentioned in large quantities, I'd bet Mike Stearns would be willing to give them away at cost," Josh said. "The only way to prevent epidemics is to vaccinate if you can, and control the disease at the source if you can't. If Paris had the plague or typhus, it would be in our own interest to send the drugs to combat them if we could. You can't put up a steel wall against disease, it just won't work."
The marquise looked thoughtful, then smiled. "So tell me, how does Louis De Geer feel about women as business associates?"
* * *
"Uncle, it is so good to see you again!"
The marquise de Combalet approached Richelieu and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Behind her Cazet de Vautorte seemed to shrug helplessly. Obviously he had been as surprised as Richelieu to see that she had brought additional guests for her visit.
"You know Theo, of course, and Marie de Gournay and Louise Bourgeois, but may I introduce Colette and Josh Modi? They have been the talk of Paris all week. Josh and Colette, this is my uncle, Cardinal Richelieu."
Colette curtsied deeply and Josh bowed. "Your Eminence, it is a pleasure to meet you," they both said.
Inside Richelieu sighed. This would be an interesting meeting. "Cazet, would you have Desbournais bring some extra chairs for our guests?"
* * *
Richelieu's fingers were steepled as he pondered what he had heard. There were many advantages here for France. And in the end, what did it matter who helped to develop North America so long as control was maintained by France?
"So you, my niece, will assume the same palatine rights for Maryland as Lord Baltimore had? And you agree to finance its colonization?"
The marquise nodded. "In addition, I will contact Lord Baltimore. Why waste the ships which were being prepared if we don't have to? According to what we were told by Dirck Graswinckel, Lord Baltimore was prepared to spend almost five hundred thousand livres in support of the colony. So long as the colonists are willing to swear allegiance to France, why not make use of them? Any replacements we need can come from France. We should have time to make the arrangements; the expedition was not supposed to sail until November, anyway."
"And you will grant Louis De Geer the mining concessions he wants?"
The marquise smiled. "Yes."
"Think of how this can be used in the Gazette, Your Eminence," Theo said. "Through the benevolence of Cardinal Richelieu, the people of Europe will be saved from disease."
Richelieu smiled. Theophraste Renaudot had always been good at finding ways to praise his patron. "Do you wish a title to go with this, Marie? Perhaps the Duchess of Maryland?"
The marquise gave him a brilliant smile. "If you can convince the king, I would not reject it."
* * *
Two weeks later Josh and Colette Modi said their goodbyes and left for Essen.
As they rode through the streets Josh could see that Colette was in a pensive mood. "Guilder for your thoughts."
Colette laughed. "I thought it was supposed to be only a penny."
"Well, I don't want you to think I don't value your thoughts you know. Anything you want to talk about?"
They were approaching the final gate leading out of Paris and Colette motioned around her. "I think I've fallen in love."
"With Paris?"
Colette nodded.
"Well," Josh said, "we could always move to Essen. That would put us much closer. Besides, then we would be close to Amsterdam as well, and I loved that city up-time. Something about the canals . . ."
Colette's eyes sparkled. "You would do that? For me?"
Josh smiled. "For us, darling. Always for us."
Side by side, they rode out of Paris towards their future.
At the Cliff's Edge
by Iver P. Cooper
Friedrich Adelsohn, Captain of the Third Company of the Mounted Constabulary of the State of Thuringia-Franconia, stared at the ox. The ox stared right back. After a moment, it lowered its gaze, and resumed its attempts to convert the roadside into a nicely trimmed lawn. Friedrich wished that, like Siegfried in the Volsunga Saga, he had tasted Fafnir's blood, and could understand the speech of animals. Could the ox tell him what had brought it to this deserted spot, miles from the town? And why it, and its fellow beast of burden, had been abandoned?
The ox stolidly ignored his musings. Clearly, it was what the American movies called, "the strong, silent type." So it was up to Friedrich to figure matters out for himself.
The two oxen had been unyoked and left to graze. The wagon itself was in excellent condition, although empty. If bandits had slain the teamsters, why hadn't they slaughtered the oxen for food? If the wagoneers had fallen sick, where were their bodies? If they were hale and hearty, why had they not simply ridden the wagon into nearby Wurzburg?
The wagon was abandoned on the flank of a great sawtooth-shaped hill, with a cliff brooding over the road. Friedrich remembered, suddenly, that there was an ancient watchtower, half in ruins, near the cliff's edge. Could bandits have taken it over? Was the wagon ferrying supplies to them?
Friedrich pointed at the forested slope beyond the wagon. "Herman, Wolfgang, scout that area. See if there's a trail that looks like it might go up the hill. And if there are signs of recent use."
They didn't have to search for very long. While there were no footprints—if any had been left, they were obliterated by a rain shower earlier that day—there were plenty of broken branches to indicate that men had passed that way.
"All right, looks like we may be near a bandit lair. Bring the horses into cover, and tie them down. Jakob, and Gerhard, stay on guard here. The rest of you, we're going to have a climb. If there are bandits at the top, it will probably be fighting at close quarters, so have your swords and pistols at the ready. But Hans, you're our best marksman, you hold your rifle, in case we need distance fire. Ready? Let's go. And don't make noise."
They started hiking. As they snaked up, they caught occasional glimpses of the crest.
"Captain, there's something smoking up
there!" whispered Herman. Clearly, there were people above them. It reinforced Fredrich's suspicions.
As they neared the top, Friedrich signaled a short halt. He wanted his men rested before they clambered up, and exposed themselves. Finally, he judged them ready for action.
"All right, let's be about it. Hans, hold back and give covering fire if we need it. The rest of you, come along!"
What they discovered was not what they expected. There was a group of herdsmen and farmers at the foot of the old watchtower. Some were gathering wood, while others were looking intently upward. Friedrich naturally looked up, too.
A wooden boom extended from a machiolation of the tower, and a cable hung down. It ended with a hook, and a man dressed in black was suspended from it, facing downward. The fire, which was more smoking than flaming, was built beneath him, and he was flailing about and yelling at the others.