Jeu de la Bête was a 17th c French trick-taking card game, derived from the earlier (16th c) Spanish game Ombre (Homme, in French). It is named after the bête (beast), a term that referred to the penalty for failing to take the required number of tricks or for various infringements. The silence that envelops … Continue reading Chapter Seventy-Nine, Jeu de la Bête, by Mordaunt
Chapter Seventy-Seven, Gilded Lilly, by Mordaunt
To gild refined gold, to paint the lilyTo throw a perfume on the violetTo smooth the ice, or add another hueUnto the rainbow, or with taper-lightTo seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.(William Shakespeare, King John, Act 4- Scene 2) It has been more than a fortnight since Layla’s encounter … Continue reading Chapter Seventy-Seven, Gilded Lilly, by Mordaunt
Chapter Seventy-Five, Le Mat d’ Escalier (Two-Rook Checkmate), by Mordaunt
Leaving Glénay is not easy. There is too much uncertainty for those Raoul and Marie Cessette leave behind. There is too much uncertainty for the two of them also, even though neither has revealed the true extent of their concerns to their loved ones. At the courtyard of Glénay they say their last farewells, full … Continue reading Chapter Seventy-Five, Le Mat d’ Escalier (Two-Rook Checkmate), by Mordaunt
Chapter Seventy-Two, The Medallion, by Mordaunt
There are good moments when hope is not fleeting. Athos is not pessimistic by nature, and a life lived by the sword, on battlefields, teaches not to waste precious time in anticipation of a future that is unpredictable. Alessandra cannot be convinced that the world around her is not a dream to shield her from … Continue reading Chapter Seventy-Two, The Medallion, by Mordaunt
Chapter Seventy, Veiled Child, by Mordaunt
Outside the door of Alessandra’s chamber the only sounds are the shuffling of the people coming and going and their careful whispering. It was not the same when Sylvie gave birth. It was not the same when Petite was born. It was never this quiet. Seated next to Athos at the bench outside Alessandra’s room, … Continue reading Chapter Seventy, Veiled Child, by Mordaunt
Chapter Sixty-eight, Ne m’oublie pas (Forget me not), by Mordaunt
Athos has been here before and remembers every painful moment. At Bragelonne when Sylvie died. At Saint Denis before Petite was born. After Rouen, when he followed Alessandra to Venice. He has been here before, and yet, remembering offers him no solace. Before, he was a different man. Sophia, his sister, lays a gentle hand … Continue reading Chapter Sixty-eight, Ne m’oublie pas (Forget me not), by Mordaunt
Chapter Sixty-Six, Bitter, Painful, Necessary Truths, by Mordaunt
Constance knows she is not needed. Milady–Constance cannot think of her by any other name–is in the care of two doctors, two midwives, a nurse and those closest to her: Sophia, Elodie and their daughters, Marie Cessette who is her daughter-in-law, even the duchess d’ Aiguillon who holds masses for her twice every day in … Continue reading Chapter Sixty-Six, Bitter, Painful, Necessary Truths, by Mordaunt
Chapter Sixty-Four, When the Devil Whispers Sweetly, by Mordaunt
Aramis will step no further than the threshold of the cell at Val de Grâce, where they meet in secret. He raises his hand: “Anne, please, you must keep away. This is as close as I dare come.” “I will do no such thing,” Queen Anne reaches for his hands. “I survived this infernal plague … Continue reading Chapter Sixty-Four, When the Devil Whispers Sweetly, by Mordaunt
Chapter Sixty-Three, Contratempo, by Mordaunt
In 17th c. Italian fencing, contratempo meant an attack whereby the tempo for offensive action was the opponent’s own attack. It is a sophisticated technique of timing so that offensive action happens precisely when the opponent thinks they have an opening, thus turning their own tempo against them. ⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️ "Halte!” M. Beauchamps, the King’s young … Continue reading Chapter Sixty-Three, Contratempo, by Mordaunt
Chapter Sixty, Lines Drawn, by Mordaunt
In the library, they are recounting all those events which must determine their future. “I cannot stay,” Athos declares after a few restless moments. “Lucien knows what has transpired, how we found Alessandra, and will speak in my stead. I trust your decisions about what must be done next.” It is his heart that moves … Continue reading Chapter Sixty, Lines Drawn, by Mordaunt
Twelve Years After 