“Shouldn’t all of us have a tattoo?” I asked. “If the warriors lose their weapon, then they are no longer protected.”
“I mentioned the same thing to Adalina, but she insisted that her warriors would never lose their weapon. If they did, then they’re dead anyway.”
“I suppose,” I said, realizing that Raphael was already done. I stood and pulled my shirt back over my head. “Thank you for all you do for us, Raphael,” I said with sincerity. “There is so much we couldn’t do without you.”
He blushed and smiled, bringing out his boyish features. “It’s the least I can do,” he replied. “You’re out there risking your life to keep humanity safe; it’s my responsibility to make sure you have every tool possible to help you succeed.”
I looked over at Magdelin and saw her looking at Raphael with pride and affection. It made me smile.
“I guess I better make a plan for our trip to Paris,” I said. “Which reminds me, did Cyrus learn any French before he switched to English?”
“Yes, he did,” Magdelin replied. “His vocabulary is somewhat limited, but I think he understands enough to communicate.”
“That will make it more difficult, as I won’t convince anyone that we’re French if he cannot speak it,” I thought out loud.
“Can you send him over for one more session before you leave?” Magdelin asked.
“Definitely, and I’m sure you won’t get any complaints from him either.”
We both smiled, and I went to find Cyrus. It didn’t take long for me to locate him in the small dining hall with a large plate of food. He must have won the heart of the cooks in the last four years, because his plate was full of a variety of tasty entrees.
“Go see Magdelin before you come home for the night,” I said with a grin. “And enjoy your meals before you lose your appetite.” He looked at his plate and then looked at me with worry. “You know we hardly eat. You’re the only reason the cooks keep all this food.” I chuckled and left him staring at his plate with sadness.
Chapter 20
I spent several hours thinking about a convincing plan to get us into Paris, and decided that Cyrus and I would be Hungarian citizens who were fed up with Napoleon’s aggression. It’s always easiest to stay close to the truth. I discussed our plans with Mikel, and we decided not to use the safe house in Paris. If we were discovered, we didn’t want to lose it. Cyrus and I left just before dawn and arrived in Paris in time for a late lunch. I found that the time changes were the most difficult part of traveling the way we did.
The citizens of Paris had rebuilt and improved their infrastructure quite a bit in the last few years. The financial stability of war provided some desperately needed funding for the city. We rented adjoining rooms at a local hotel then hit the streets. I wasn’t sure how we would find someone who would be involved with Robert and his wife, but sitting around in the local café would give us a feel for the atmosphere. We had lunch in a café on La Seine, then walked to Les Halles market to listen to shop owners haggle prices with their customers. The women shopping at the market provided the most information. They openly spoke of the economic and social changes. They felt safe walking through the market, and the stability in prices made it much easier for them to purchase the things they needed. The atmosphere was not what I expected. The French people supported Napoleon, praising his ability to stabilize France’s economy, and his Prefect of Police kept crime to a minimum. If there was resistance to his rule, it was not with the common people.
When we arrived back at our rooms, I noticed Cyrus had a rather melancholy and confused expression.
“What’s wrong, Cyrus?” I asked.
He was silent for a few minutes before answering. “A few things. We spent all day today listening to the people here talk about how much their lives have improved, some of them finally having work after years of being destitute.” He paused, clearly having difficulty putting his thoughts into words. “My emotions are conflicted. I know what happened to the Austria-Hungarian army who fought against Napoleon, and while the war did not affect my hometown, there were many on the border closest to Italy that were affected. My parents would talk of the destruction, and it scared me. I remember praying to God that the French would not come any closer to us.” He looked at me with sadness and confusion. “But then I hear the people here talking about the atrocities of the French Revolution and the support they received from Napoleon. I want to hate these people, but I can’t.”
“I experienced the same thing the last time I was here, Cyrus,” I said. “Except that I was part of the Imperial Austrian Army and witnessed the horrors of war. Mikel asked me to come to Paris shortly after I left the army, and it was very difficult for me. I understand your confusion, but Napoleon seems to have brought them out of the chaos from the French Revolution.”
Cyrus let out a deep breath. “So, there isn’t a resistance from the common people, is there?”
“No, there isn’t,” I replied. “I’ve thought about it all afternoon. The resistance must be coming from the nobility who had their entire lives turned upside down.”
“How do we infiltrate the nobility?” he asked. “No one in my family was even close to aristocracy. They only ever worked as servants.”
I cleared my throat and looked down. “My family was,” I said, trying to ignore his surprised expression. “My father owned a large estate in Austria. I may be able to gain access to some minor events happening within the upper classes.” I shook my head and sighed. “I’ve been out of that role for so long, I’m not sure I want to go back to it. But I don’t think we have any other choice.”
Cyrus was still looking at me with astonishment. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I’ve always known you as just Darian. You don’t act like the nobility I remember.”
I chuckled and replied, “Living at Santuario will do that to you. You aren’t the scrawny little boy I picked up four years ago either.”
“No, I guess not,” he said with a grin.
“In the morning, we need to find a tailor,” I said. “Our current attire will not be appropriate for mingling with our new crowd.”
“I’m not sure that I should go with you,” Cyrus said. “I can’t act like a nobleman.”
“I’ll introduce you as my cousin from a large farm in Hungary,” I explained. “They will expect you to be somewhat unrefined. You’re not a naturally talkative person, so I wouldn’t worry too much about saying the wrong thing. I won’t leave you alone with anyone either.”
“If you say so,” he said, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.
“I think I’d like to go out this evening to some of the taverns,” I said, changing the subject. “Sometimes the best information comes from tongues loosened by alcohol. You’re welcome to stay in the room or come with me. The choice is yours.”
“I’ll stay here,” he said. “I’ve experienced enough for one day.”
I headed towards the less affluent side of town just as the sun was setting. Paris was like most other large cities in the evenings. Workers were stopping at their favorite taverns on their way home to wash away their woes. I spent several hours migrating from one tavern to another and found nothing more than we had already learned.
The next morning, we had breakfast at the same café, then walked back to Les Halles market to find a tailor. To my surprise, there were many to choose from. We walked past several before selecting one that looked like it specialized in men’s clothing. When we entered the shop, we were greeted by a tall, slender man with thin gray hair. He was dressed immaculately and frowned at our appearance, which clearly didn’t meet his standards.
“May I help you find something?” he asked, wrinkling his nose. “I believe you have stumbled into the wrong shop.”
“We are in the correct shop,” I replied with feigned offense. “And require the services of an extremely talented tailor. You were highly recommended to us. Was my colleague mistaken regarding your skills?”
He opened his mouth
to speak, but I could see the indecision on his face. He didn’t want to imply that he wasn’t extremely talented, but he was also reluctant to be seen assisting us. The former argument won him over, and he yelled towards the back of his shop.
“Louis!” he yelled, and a young man with shoulder-length hair and deep blue eyes appeared from the back of the shop. “Lock the front door. I don’t want to be disturbed while assisting these gentlemen.” Louis looked at us, knowing that his boss didn’t want his normal customers to see him with the likes of us.
“What is it that you require?” he asked after Louis scurried off on his errand.
“We need attire that is appropriate for a soiree at the Jardin des Tuileries tomorrow evening.”
He looked down his nose at us and scoffed. “You would be invited to an event at the Jardin des Tuileries?” He sneered as he said it.
“Yes, I am Baron Darian von Schmidt, Lord of the House of Schmidt in the Austrian Empire,” I replied with condescension. “I’m completely aware that my current attire is inadequate for the public, which is why I’m here. If you would prefer that I take my business elsewhere, I would be happy to do so, but I will not be insulted by a mere tailor.”
The tailor looked at us in shock for a moment, then sprang into action. “I apologize, my lord, I didn’t realize who you were.” He stuttered then yelled for Louis again. “Let us provide you with the most exquisite clothing in Paris.”
We were there for two hours, getting measured and selecting colors and styles. I pretended to argue with the tailor, who introduced himself as Pierre, about the preferred styles and then graciously agreed to his selections.
“Your items will be ready tomorrow afternoon, my lord,” he said with a bow. “Even if I have to work all night preparing them.” Louis sighed, and I guessed that the apprentice would actually be the one working all night.
“Thank you for your time, Pierre,” I said, handing him one franc. It was enough to pay for four or five outfits, but I wanted him to remember us.
“Merci, my lord! This is too much!” he said with suppressed excitement as he pocketed the coin.
“I will determine if it was too much when we return tomorrow.” I smiled, and we left his shop.
As we walked back towards the hotel, Cyrus peppered me with questions.
“What did the tailor say to make you so mad?”
“He was being condescending and acting as if we were not good enough to grace his shop,” I replied.
“Well technically, I’m not,” he said with a frown. “Are you really a baron?”
“Yes, I am,” I replied. “But it’s been difficult to retain my father’s estate, not just because of the war, but also because of my own circumstance.”
We continued walking in silence, but I was certain that Cyrus had more questions.
“Do you really think I should go with you to the party?” he asked.
“I won’t force you to go, Cyrus, but it would be very nice to have another set of eyes and ears watching our fellow guests,” I replied. “It will likely be easier for you to focus on the small details, as I will be forced to play the part of nobility. I never liked it growing up, and I don’t imagine that has changed.” I frowned, remembering all the lessons my mother made me sit through regarding proper etiquette.
“I really need to work on my French,” Cyrus said. “I only understood half of what was said in the tailor’s shop.” He sighed, watching his feet as he walked. “I felt the same way for the last two days, only understanding bits and pieces, but barely enough to grasp the conversation.”
I looked towards the frustrated young man next to me. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I would’ve explained the conversations to you.”
“I guess I didn’t want to admit that I couldn’t,” he replied with resignation.
“It’s still very early. Why don’t we go to one of the local taverns and see if we can add to your knowledge?” I suggested.
“Are you sure? Won’t they hear us trying to translate their conversations?”
“Not if we do it right,” I replied. “Come on.” We walked towards the east side of town and found a tavern just past the Louvre. It was early enough that we were able to find a semi-private table in the back.
We stayed for a couple hours, listening to the conversations at the tables around us. Cyrus would tell me what he thought they said, then I would translate the discussions for him. By the time we were ready to leave, he had improved quite a bit and felt better about his ability to follow the dialogue around him.
“Thank you, Darian, for taking the time and patience to help me,” he said with sincerity when we returned to our rooms.
“It benefits us both, but you’re welcome! Now get some rest, tomorrow will be a long day.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We arrived at the tailor’s just after eating lunch. He was delighted to see us and even insisted that we try on our clothes in his shop to make sure they were an exact fit. I agreed to his request, and we changed into our new clothing. We stood in front of the tall mirrors with Pierre and Louis fussing over last-minute changes, and I was amazed at the quality of work that was done.
“Pierre, you and your apprentice have exceeded my expectations,” I said to him firmly. “I will ensure that everyone knows the talented hand that created this masterpiece.”
Pierre blushed fiercely and stuttered his many thanks while Louis beamed with pride, knowing that he had done most of the work. I looked back in the mirror at the dark brown trousers and short-waisted coat that fit my large frame perfectly. The white silk scarf around my neck was thick enough to be masculine while still maintaining elegance. Cyrus wore a similar suit, but his was a dark gray and somehow made him look taller. He was smiling with pleasure at the sight of himself in the mirror.
Pierre cleared his throat. “Normally I would have to add several layers of vests to make the chest and shoulders larger, but the two of you did not require it. I’m sure all the gentlemen will be jealous, and the ladies will be waiting for your invitation to dance.” He bowed and smiled, clearly pleased with himself.
“Thank you, Pierre. I will never visit another tailor’s shop.” I looked at him with a genuine smile.
Cyrus and I left the shop and headed back towards the Jardin des Tuileries, the gardens just beyond the Louvre. Many of the nobility spent time walking in the gardens where they could sample ice creams, see pantomimes, acrobatics, jugglers, and listen to music and dance. We stopped to watch a pair of very talented pantomimes performing just inside the gates of the park. Several couples were standing near us, laughing and cheering for the pair. When the performance ended, I tossed a couple coins to the performers and turned to go. Cyrus caught my elbow and held me in place while everyone else walked by.
“The man on the far left, with the woman in the yellow dress, has a strange appearance,” he said quietly, with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.
“What do you mean strange?” I asked quietly.
“There is a dark, smoky fog around him,” he replied then looked at me. “You have a bright glow, but his seems to dull everything around him, even the bright yellow of his companion’s dress.”
I almost asked him if he were sure, but he wouldn’t have mentioned it if he weren’t.
“Let’s follow at a discreet distance,” I suggested. “Maybe we can catch his name.”
The park was crowded, despite the chilly weather, so it was easy to blend with the other visitors. We followed them along the path until they stopped to listen to a group of musicians. I gathered that his companion needed to rest as they sat on one of the nearby benches. Cyrus and I stood to their right and slightly in front of them, pretending to listen to the music. The couple talked of inconsequential things for several minutes before the man turned the conversation.
“You will join me this evening at the soiree,” he said, but it was not a request.
“I would prefer not to,” she replied quietly. “I’m not feeling well e
nough to stay out late this evening.”
“It wasn’t a request, Marie.” His voice was harsh and uncaring. “I will send the carriage to pick you up at seven.”
“Simon, please, not tonight,” she pleaded, her voice laced with fear.
“Be ready at seven, my dear.”
I turned slightly to watch them out of the corner of my eye. Simon stood and held out his hand to assist her. She took it and slipped her arm into his, allowing him to lead her away.
I turned back to Cyrus. “Did you catch all of that?”
“Most of it,” he replied. “They should be at the party tonight, correct?”
“Yes, but she is clearly under duress,” I replied with concern. “Was he the only one you’ve noticed since we arrived?”
“Yes, he’s the first. It makes me wonder though.” He paused as we started walking back towards the gate. “None of the commoners had that aura, but one of the first noblemen we see does.” I didn’t miss his insinuation, and he was probably right. Most of the possessed that Mikel and I found in the last four years were individuals in places of power.
We headed back to the hotel to brush the dust from our suits and get ready for the evening.
I intentionally arrived at the party early, as all guests were announced on arrival. I preferred as few people as possible hearing our announcement, and it worked out perfectly with one exception. The hosts of today’s soiree were Robert and his wife. He looked towards us as the steward announced my name and title, and recognition swept over his face. He leaned down to his wife, who was talking to another woman, and whispered in her ear. She looked our way, and astonishment crossed her face for a brief moment before she went back to her conversation. Robert started walking towards us.
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