The Cardinal's Blades

13

In 1607 Concino Concini, an Italian adventurer who, together with his wife, enjoyed such influence over Queen Marie de Medicis that she made him marquis d’Ancre and a marshal of France, built a vast mansion on rue de Tournon. Greedy and incompetent, he was hated by the population, who pillaged his mansion for the first time in 1616 and then again, after his death in 1617. Louis XIII resided there from time to time, and then gave it to one of his favourites, only to buy it back later. From then on, and up until 1748, the beautiful house in rue de Tournon became a residence for visiting ambassadors extraordinary.

The creation of permanent ambassadors was not yet a widespread practice. With rare exceptions, European kingdoms only employed ambassadors extraordinary to conduct particular negotiations or represent their monarchs on grand occasions-princely baptisms, betrothals, marriages, and other important ceremonies. These envoys-always great lords expected to maintain appearances at their own cost-would return to their country once their mission was completed. Diplomacy was yet to become a career.

Thus, in Paris, ambassadors and their retinues were the guests of the king in the marquis d’Ancre’s former mansion. Having been appointed by King Felipe IV of Spain, the comte de Pontevedra had been lodging there for several days and would no doubt remain there as long as was necessary to ensure the completion of a mission that was surrounded by the greatest secrecy. What were the comte and Richelieu discussing during the course of their long daily meetings-meetings at which even the king himself made appearances? The royal court was filled with rumours on this subject and everyone either claimed to know or made educated guesses. The truth, however, went beyond any of their expectations. It involved nothing less than preparing, if not an alliance, then at least a rapprochement between France and Spain. Was such a thing even possible? If it was, it would represent an enduring upheaval in European politics and would affect the destinies of millions of souls.

On this day, the comte de Pontevedra returned rather earlier than usual from the Louvre. He rode in a luxurious coach, surrounded by twenty gentlemen in arms whose role was both to protect him and to enhance his prestige with their numbers and their elegance. At the mansion in rue de Tournon he hurried alone to his apartments, sent his servants away, and even refused his valet’s assistance to remove his brocade doublet and his gold-trimmed baldric. He poured himself a glass of wine and settled down in an armchair. He was preoccupied, eaten away by worry. But it was not the difficulty of the delicate diplomatic negotiations he was engaged in that spoilt his days and haunted his nights.

A door creaked.

The ambassador rose, furious, ready to drive away the unwelcome visitor and then suddenly froze. He glanced around for his sword which, unfortunately, he had abandoned out of easy reach.

“That would be suicide, monsieur,” said Laincourt, emerging from an antechamber. “I am not an assassin. I am a messenger.”

“Who sent you?”

“The Black Claw.”

In his fifties, tall, dignified, with greying temples and a fine scar decorating his cheekbone, the ambassador was still a handsome man. He was not trembling, but he had grown pale.

“I see,” added Laincourt, “that you have guessed the reason for my visit…”

“Speak, monsieur.”

“We have your daughter.”

Pontevedra remained expressionless.

“You don’t believe me,” inferred Laincourt after a moment.

“On what grounds should I believe you? I await your proof. Can you show me a jewel that could only belong to her? Or perhaps a lock of her hair?”

“Neither jewel, nor hair. But I could return with an eye…”

There was another silence, during which the two men exchanged stares, each trying to probe the other.

“What do you want? Money?”

Laincourt gave a faint but amiable smile.

“Why don’t you sit down, monsieur? In this armchair. That will place you away from the table you are edging toward and the letter opener that rests upon it.”

Pontevedra obeyed.

In turn, the Black Claw’s envoy also took a seat, but one a good distance from the ambassador, while constantly covering him with his pistol.

“Once upon a time,” said Laincourt, “there was an adventurous French gentleman who became a great lord in Spain. This gentleman had a daughter who, one day, wished to remove herself from his company. The gentleman did not want this to happen. So his daughter fled, crossing the border disguised as a cavalier and finding refuge in Paris. The gentleman received word of this. And he soon learned, through his spies, that one of his most powerful enemies was threatening, or at least also pursuing, his daughter. The gentleman, understandably, became worried… What do you think of my story, monsieur? Is it accurate enough that I should continue?”

Pontevedra nodded.

“In that case, I’ll go on… At the same time, an ambassadorial mission was being prepared in Madrid. Did our gentleman engage in a few little intrigues to have this mission entrusted to him, or did fate serve him by happenstance? It matters little. What does matter is that he was named ambassador extraordinary and came to Paris to negotiate with the king of France and his most eminent minister. His political mission was of the utmost importance, but he merely regarded it as the means of saving his daughter. Using all the influence he was able to wield, he obtained a promise from France, via Cardinal Richelieu, that she would endeavour to search for his daughter. Or rather, to search for the chevalier d’Ireban, since it was under this name and this disguise that she had secretly reached Paris. Our gentleman gave the chevalier prestigious origins, so that the cardinal might believe that he was rendering a service to the Spanish crown rather than to its ambassador… Does my tale still have the ring of truth?”

“Yes.”

“Good… This gentleman, in fact, did more than simply demand that France search for his daughter. He wanted France to use her best men for this delicate mission. He wanted the Cardinal’s Blades… When Richelieu asked him why, he answered that Spain wished to assure herself that France was doing everything in her power to succeed: she would therefore show the best possible goodwill by having recourse to the Blades. Careful not to give offence to Spain on the eve of crucial negotiations, the cardinal no doubt agreed to this demand with fairly good grace. After all, for him it was simply a question of recruiting men who had already demonstrated their worth and could soon prove useful once again. And so it was arranged… But I see with regret that my tale has started to bore you…”

“It is a tale whose subject matter is already familiar to me.”

“I am coming now to precisely those elements of which you are perhaps ignorant.”

“Very well. Continue.”

“I said earlier, our gentleman was worried that a particular enemy of his was pursuing his daughter. He was indeed worried, but was not surprised by this. It must be said that his daughter had become bound by ties of affection to a handsome adventurer who was in the pay of the enemy in question. That is to say, the Black Claw. The daughter was unaware of this fact. But the gentleman knew. And it was no doubt in seeking to separate her from her dangerous admirer that he provoked her anger and subsequent flight. Because the girl was of an age when people are willing to sacrifice everything for love-”

“You promised to speak of developments that are unknown to me.”

“And here they are: your daughter’s lover is dead, but before he died he told us who she is, which we did not know until then. You must recognise that she constitutes a significant prize for us… But it remains the case that your manoeuvres have placed the Blades on our trail. This must cease. As of today.”

“What guarantees do you offer me?”

“None. You have persuaded Richelieu to deploy his Blades against us. See that he henceforth employs them for another purpose and your daughter shall live.”

“Richelieu will refuse if he suspects something.”

“Richelieu already suspects something. His suspicions began the instant you demanded he involve the Blades in this matter. Don’t forget that he knows who you really are. But does your daughter know? And if she doesn’t, do you want her to remain ignorant of the facts?”