At one in the night, a carriage arrived. I heard if from afar, the cobblestones and wheels rattling, the noise echoing dully in the night.
I heard a man yell: ‘gare!’ Beware. I heard a man speak brusquely, the opening of the front door, and I heard Florian laugh. They had been drinking, apparently happy, celebrating their unexpected survival. I heard their relaxed steps and then a musket banged and a man was no longer a man, but a piece of rotting meat that slumped to the floor of my former home. Smoke poured to the garden from the open doorway. Then, sounds of struggle.
‘Who are you? Mercy!’ Florian’s scared voice demanded, then a sharp slap. I smiled for Laroche had made good of my description of Florian and had killed the right man, apparently his bodyguard.
Laroche poked his head inside. ‘The guard is not going to bother you. I will drag him next to the one who guarded the place. Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ I told him softly, and Florian practically flew to the garden. He picked himself up, bewildered. His long face and elaborately dressed, thin body bespoke of fear as he shook, staring at the naked blade in my hand. Then I realized he did not see me in the shadows and I got up.
‘Who are you? A woman?’ he asked, weakly, ogling at the fine dress I was wearing and also wondering at the scuffed uhlan boots peaking from under the hem. ‘This can be discussed. Ask for anything, I beg,’ he whispered.
‘I wish to know, Florian, how is it possible that you promised you would stand against anything for me, yet you would betray me like this,’ I said maliciously, as I came forward. He leaned to the wall, thinking he had seen a ghost.
‘Oh yes,’ I laughed. ‘I am the Revenant now, returned from the dead, leaving behind corpses, for they are gone, Gilbert’s men.’ Save for Voclain, I thought, but that was only a technicality.
His eyes measured me, carefully. He thoughts were going over many options and fine arguments, but he saw I was not in the mood to negotiate, not that night. I shook my head at him, denying him hope.
‘Well, I said most anything, Jeanette,’ he said slowly. ‘But, we are friends, Jeanette,’ he offered. ‘We played together, you know I liked you.’
‘But you like Gilbert better.’ It was that simple.
He shrugged. ‘He and I? Yes, I always liked him. He was decisive and he taught me many things, stood up for me. It was always us against the ruffians, and you were the one we were slaying or saving. Remember? I stood up for you, but I loved him. I am sorry.’ He had a calculative look on his face. He thought of me as a woman, which was fine. I was one, but not like I had been, or like most women he likely knew.
I spat at him though I spoke calmly. ‘And so you came to the Temple, wheedled out the knowledge who knew where my siblings were. I told you of Lucile and her hatred of us. You likely were there when they tortured Robert? No, don’t deny it. Then you fucked me, pretended to love me more than you loved him, lied to me about your father, and took position and coin under Gilbert.’
‘Yes,’ he admitted, no regret evident. ‘I am his secretary.’ I saw he had a sword strapped onto his side, a slimmer thing than mine and he was fingering it. He always wanted to be a knight, I remembered but had turned out a demon, like Gilbert had predicted.
I grinned at him. ‘Gilbert, Gilbert. Now he is prospering again, is he not?’
He nodded happily. ‘He is trying to be a man for France, Jeanette, to be a great man. He has his methods, and perhaps he would be a different man, had his father lived. He would still be a nasty bastard, at times, but nothing like what Georges Danton and your murder attempt made of him. It is dirty work, Jeanette, the filth of politics, as dirty as tagging behind army unit on campaign.’
‘Danton and I? It is Adam, who made him, but I don’t care anymore. As for filth? The dirt of an army camp and blood of battle can be washed off, Florian. This shit cannot, it reeks of cowardice,’ I spat at him and tapped the locked box, and his eyes rounded in fear and calculations, as his hand shot to his pocket, where the key was. ‘If mother and I were dead, would he truly still come after Jean and Julie?’
He grunted. ‘Yes. As he told you. He meant it. In the books we read as children, there were great kings and dread warlords, remember? The only way the king is safe is to make sure nobody comes to avenge him. That is Gilbert. That is how he thinks. We discussed it, and I agreed with him. He is right.’
I smiled at him coldly. ‘You agreed with him. I see. Has he looked for them?’
Florian laughed. ‘No.’
‘No?’ I asked, surprised.
‘I have,’ he said, proudly. ‘He asked me to as he was busy trying to survive Paul Barras.’
‘And what have you found?’ I asked him harshly.
‘I, with incredible luck and sheer force of will found a man, who sold them a ticket to a coach. They crossed the border, Jeanette. After they were warned that the Public Safety apparatus was looking for them, they fled. They went to Austria, all of them and I got this information on a letter yesterday, you see.’
‘And Gilbert knows?’ I asked, shakily.
He sneered at my brief weakness, gathering strength from it. ‘He knows nothing yet, Jeanette. It has been a dangerous week, with the Royalists clamoring for our heads. I have to say that Italian general Buonaparte really earned his spurs today.’
‘How is it, Florian,’ I hissed at him, ‘that Gilbert is terrified at us, driven to kill the lot of our unhappy family, for we remember the scared, little Gilbert, but not you?’
‘That is not for you to know,’ he said with a smile. ‘It is our secret.’
‘You will give me this letter speaking of my lost siblings, Florian, my friend.’
‘Surely, friend,’ he told me. ‘It is in that box.’
We waited. There were whispers in the night, as people in the surrounding buildings saw us standing there, sensing something was wrong. ‘Key, friend. Give me the key,’ I said, not concerned in the least.
‘I have it here, Jeanette,’ he told me and pulled a key briefly to sight, then let it drop back in. ‘But there are things in that box you do not need, and I wish to give it to you, but not them.’
I was thinking and contemplating the mysterious box. ‘Does not matter, Florian. Keep the key. I take it and break the lock. That simple it is. Solution to most of life’s problems, eh? Besides, I am wagering there is something else there in that box, something I am here for.’
‘Ah,’ he said, nervous. ‘The contract. That you cannot have.’
‘Didn’t he steal it from Georges, anyway? It’s not his. This contract some foul men signed so they would all be silent and hang together, the agreement to kill Mirabeau? I will have it.’
‘No,’ he said thinly.
‘So afraid to lose Gilbert, are you?’ I sneered. ‘I will have it.’
‘I will not have you hurt Gilbert. Nor me,’ he hissed. ‘It would hurt me.’
‘You, what does a limp little fucker like you have got to do with this? You are insignificant, a speck of dust…’
He shook his head. ‘Gilbert was a spy. Only that. He bullied and extorted people for Georges, but he wanted more. All the revolutionaries had one enemy, Mirabeau. That man could have stopped the whole, fine bloodbath. So, Gilbert grasped at that. He offered to kill Mirabeau. They said no, unless there was a fine plan in place.’
‘And?’ I sneered.
‘Mirabeau had few weaknesses. He was a careful man. But he was my father’s customer,’ Florian said carefully. ‘They never suspected us and father cried for him. Gilbert procured the poison, I administered it in a chocolate sweet and the rest is history. But that made us. They approved of the plan and we all signed it, binding us all together in sin, giving us power and position.’
I laughed. ‘You are far from a knight, Florian.’
He bristled. ‘Danton held on to it, until the night he was arrested, when we stole it,’ Florian said carefully. ‘It was close we didn’t lose it that night, but we managed it. I will keep that. Take the rest.’
<
br /> ‘No, Florian. I will have them all,’ I told him bluntly and he twitched. We stared at each other for a long time, mulling over the unfortunate situation.
‘You know,’ he said finally, apparently having decided to brave all for Gilbert. ‘The sex we had? I took you for the pain you caused me, when you told me Gilbert was dead by your hand. I endured hell for weeks after it, until he came to me. I took you, and giggled in my head, for you were a fool and I humiliated and fouled you. You are an easy woman, like your mother is. Is she alive still?’ He pulled his sword. ‘I cannot let you take the box, Jeanette. Of course, with a man out there, the murderer, you can. No doubt, he sleeps between your legs, as well.’
‘Laroche!’ I yelled, anger playing in my voice, simmering darkness seeping to my soul and I knew Florian would not see his father in this world again. Laroche popped his head in.
‘What is it, girl? Is he still alive? What are you doing? What if someone heard the shot…’
‘Of course it was heard. Listen.’ There were shots all over the city. ‘Many others are dying out there. It’s a special night and they don’t mind. Now, can you go out to the street, and if it is Florian who comes out, you will let him go.’
He looked at me blandly. ‘Of course,’ he lied, and I smiled at him gratefully. I turned to face my old friend, who eased out of his jacket. I remembered all the lessons Robert had taught me, I remembered the guard position, the fine respect, and important lessons in honor and sportsmanship, but did not care about honor, for I had no respect for Florian and I had sold my soul for my siblings. I would be cruel. I wanted hot blood on the blade and to humiliate the boy I had known and loved, the one who had turned into my enemy. Florian turned towards me, his sword at the ready, but he was not ready, nor really, as he thought this would be easy as eating one's breakfast.
‘Gilbert will be delightfully grateful,’ he said reverently as he rushed and threw a quick jab at me, though I saw it was far from complete, just a tease. I stumbled, though, faking fear.
He enjoyed himself. He danced like an acrobat around me, swishing the blade, charging with fine steps, then suddenly guarding, and showing his superiority with well-rehearsed positions and deft, quick movements, but they were just well-rehearsed, and his demeanor betrayed his inexperience, and I smiled to myself for he was playing a knight and facing a killer. ‘You should have left me to that brute, Jeanette. Pride is a mistake few can afford. No?’
And with that, he came in, lighting fast, his triumphant face savoring a kill that he had not yet made. His surprise was complete when I sidestepped him, my blade at an angle to puncture his belly and he shrieked in pain as the blade and his own speed tore a ragged, terrible wound on his abdomen. He eyed the torn skin and shirt incredulously, holding his blade gingerly. Then he cursed, turned towards me, his sword trembling and I attacked. Henri’s blade was made for a man, they most all were. It was no heavy battering, butchery blade of a sabre, but an officer’s sword, but it was thick enough and it was of good steel. I would tire with it, I knew, but I needed only a few moments. He managed to block my first thrust, but not the next, as his shoulder took a savage, jarring stab. I felt the bone stop the blade, and his eyes rolled in his head. He fell on his back, the sword clattering to the ground, and our family watch fell off his pocket. It was lying there, glittering as I gazed at it, astonished.
I wiped the sweat to my sleeve and curtsied to the unseen whistles and ovations around us. I took the watch gingerly, dug out the key and spied a letter in his pocket, which I pulled out as well. I thumbed the watch, walked to the box and opened the letter.
It was a love letter. It was from Gilbert, and I understood why Florian had our watch.
The filthy beast had feelings, but not for fair women, for the Revenant loved men and especially one man, Florian. Apparently so did Florian love Gilbert and that was their secret, the one Adam had so hated. Perhaps Florian like variety, every now and then, for had had me, after all, but it was not a lie that Gilbert had a weakness, finally, despite claiming to have none, and it was Florian in addition to the contract I was about to steal.‘ I wondered if Adam had known of Gilbert’s preferences from early on, and had tortured our friend for that. I wiped my forehead as clammy sweat was pouring in my eyes, and I felt it was all sad and pointless as I leaned on the table, reading over and over again the words of the terrible Revenant, a man with feelings after all. He surely had a soul left, and in the words the young, innocent Gilbert could still be glimpsed. His tone was a tad commandeering, yet suddenly endearing, both possessive and loving, as he told Florian he would expect him in his office on the 6th, which was the next morning, and Gilbert told him he missed him, his gentle caress, his patient love, his truest friend and confidant. Gilbert who hated me, Gilbert, who sent men to kill us, Gilbert who had refused all attempts at reconciliation was expecting his secretary and lover to attend him the next day. Gilbert, who had told me he wielded hammers over nails, boy who told us he had no soul and weaknesses, that I could never hurt him. The same Gilbert who had told me he would kill my siblings and give us no quarter.
And that lover was there, lying on the ground, moaning, a man who had deceived me, hurt me, would hurt me in the future and was helping and even loving Gilbert.
I contemplated on using Florian to fetch the bastard, blackmailing my cousin to lure him out from his protective palace walls and he might come, and then again, he might not. He might think it was a bargain to trade Florian away and he might send his men instead, possibly even hoping to spring his lover while I died. No. He wanted to hurt us and would be tempted. I would not risk it. I would be patient.
I opened the box, and found the letter that spoke of the siblings. A man called Schiller had sold mother’s sister a ticket on a couch heading for Rhine and from there, to fabulous Vienna. Who they knew in Vienna, it did not say, but we had finally hope and we knew where to look.
In the seemingly bottomless box, there were many other papers. Most were rumors, others were smear, and there were a hoard of evil plans and likely methods that would work with various weak officials and lots of discarded ideas on men who had died or evaded Gilbert.
On a brown folder, there was a handwritten paper. It was a simple affair, really. It was written by Georges, I knew his handwriting and with pious, powerful words he explain the needs of France demanded sacrifices, and deeds otherwise loathsome, were acceptable and needed to achieve great goals. It described the parties to the deed, and many, many men signed it. Most dead. Some not. And I knew one such name. I took the contract and smiled.
Then, there was one paper, one I remembered Camille talking about, and I smiled even more.
I took the box and considered Florian. I had been Jeanette, a woman forever afraid. Now I was Jeanette, a soldier and the Revenant, come back from the dead to avenge myself and my friends and family, and I would take a soldier’s way, from now on. I had told Gilbert I would fight him and I knew it would cost me my soul. But that could not be helped, if we were to live our lives in peace, in the future. I stepped up to Florian. His eyes flickered open as I moved close. ‘Gilbert was right. You are no knight, but a demon, but neither am I your victim in your sadistic games. Perhaps I am a demon as well.’ I pushed the sword through his throat and he flailed like a beached fish. I saw the light go out of his eyes as he choked on blood. I wiped tears away from my eyes and felt sorry for Claude. I waited to make sure Florian was dead, and asked for Laroche.
Later, we left. Laroche was in a foul mood. ‘That you kill him is fine, but that you expect me to do this shitty work, is beyond me. If you kill something, you own the corpse. Do not presume…’
‘I will, next time and you show me how,’ I told him insipidly.
‘It’s not different from butchering a cow, but there you are, a girl presuming you need not bother and…’ I shut him out of my thoughts, endured his lecture, and smiled. I was happy and sad, but at least I was on top for once.
Next morning, a liveried man showed me to
a lavish office in the bloodied Tuiliers. A tired, large man with a meaty face, pug nose and curly, oiled hair was lounging on an excellent seat, made seemingly of fine leather and gold and teak, his desk full of papers and reports. He was a Director, and one of the most powerful men in France. He eyed me curiously. ‘Normally, at time like this, I would have lines of people in need to see me. Important people. And you, a friend to Henri shows up! How is dear Henri? Jeanette?’ he asked, glowering at me.
Uninvited to do so, I sat down on another gloriously decorated chair, aware that the fine dress had droplets of dried blood on it. We stared at each other, a clock ticking away on the side desk, both determined. ‘I am pleased to meet you, monsieur Barras.’ I told him blandly.
He snorted. ‘Your message was quite unusual.’
‘I would imagine so. You are a friend of Henri’s, even if you lied to him?’
He sneered, playing with a pen, but the sneer turned to gentle smile as he nodded. ‘I was happy to save him. I would not have, not been able at least had there not been our coup to topple the Jacobins, but I was happy to. As for Gilbert, I sort of inherited him. I was the last man alive who signed that deal, you know, well no, that is not true. Only Gilbert, his secretary and I were left. It was, on retrospect, a bad idea to sign something like that, but it did elevate us all, did it not. Most of us were in Bastille, we took Tuiliers. We were comrades, but we needed the contract to truly tie the knot, you know. Unfortunately, the Robspierre’s spun out of control and all risked much hurt to each other despite the contract. Yet, that day, Mirabeau died, we gambled our lives and so we got power when the time came.’
Reign of Fear: Story of French Revolution and Napoleonic Wars (Cantiniére Tales) Page 40