The Silver Blade (22 page)
The hen seemed the most vocal of the three occupants. Yann grabbed it.
‘May I ask why we have stopped?’ said the Duchess, only glancing at her jailer. She was painfully thin.
‘Maybe I wanted an egg for breakfast,’ Yann said kindly. Still she refused to look at him.
The girl woke, sleepily taking in this apparition. Before her was a young man, extraordinarily dressed, with a hen under his arm.
‘Are you going to kill it?’
Yann studied the hen. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It looks like a good layer.’ And he went off to put it in his saddlebag.
The two women climbed uncertainly out of the carriage. The Duchess looked around, wondering if this was going to be her end, to be slaughtered here in this wood. Seeing the girl was terrified, she said calmly, ‘It is all right, Celeste.’
Yann came back with bread and a bottle of wine.
‘This is for you, madame. Do you not recognise me?’
The Duchess finally looked at him, catching the smile in his dark eyes. Her face lit up with joy.
‘Tell me I am not dreaming!’
She put her arms round the girl. ‘There is no need to be frightened. This young gentleman is an old friend of mine.’
Yann bowed.
And the girl, looking at him, said, ‘Does that mean we are saved?’
Chapter Nineteen
Y
ann arrived in Paris the day before
The Harlequinade
was due to re-open. He’d gone straight to the Hotel de Ville. There was one more thing he had to do.
ann arrived in Paris the day before
The Harlequinade
was due to re-open. He’d gone straight to the Hotel de Ville. There was one more thing he had to do.
The clerk whose business it was to draw up the names of the guillotined had had a busy morning. The previous day there had been a record harvest of heads, and in the enthusiasm to rid France of traitors and aristocrats names had become muddled. Now, his finger black with ink, he looked up wearily at the
sans-culotte
before him.
sans-culotte
before him.
‘Where are the documents?’
He peered over his smudged glasses and added three more names to the list, a thin smile curling like smoke across his face. Head bowed, tongue protruding, he wrote down the names, each one gloriously misspelled. Yann only bothered to correct him on one: the Duchesse de Bourcy. Her best chance of survival was to be dead to the authorities. The clerk dusted the ink and handed the paper to an officer to be posted outside.
‘Good work, citizen,’ said the clerk.
Only when that was done did Yann return to the Circus of Follies.
Citizeness Manou, seeing a
sans-culotte
with a three-cornered hat at the stage door, emerged from her sentry box in a cloud of smoky thunder and was taken aback to realise it was none other than Yann.
sans-culotte
with a three-cornered hat at the stage door, emerged from her sentry box in a cloud of smoky thunder and was taken aback to realise it was none other than Yann.
‘Citizen Aulard is waiting in his office and I’m under strict instructions to send you up the minute I see you.’
Yann climbed the stairs to Citizen Aulard’s office to find the theatre manager, Tetu and a young man he had never seen before. He was a year or two older than himself, had dark blond hair and a pleasing, handsome face, though Yann thought he looked as if he hadn’t slept for days.
‘There you are,’ said Citizen Aulard, as Yann entered the room. ‘Thank the Lord above, you’re back.
The Harlequinade
opens tomorrow.’
The Harlequinade
opens tomorrow.’
‘I know that,’ said Yann.
Tetu knew from one look at Yann that he was, in part, forgiven.
‘This is the Vicomte de Reignac,’ he said. ‘He was about to tell us how he came here. Please continue, Viscount.’
‘Wait,’ Yann interrupted, ‘surely you were sent to us?’
‘No,’ said Tetu, ‘the Viscount came to us through an unusual channel.’
‘Yes, the priest who was hiding me made enquiries as to the whereabouts of the Silver Blade, and was told they might know of him at the Circus of Follies,’ said the Viscount.
‘That’s the part I don’t like,’ said Citizen Aulard. ‘Not one little bit.’
‘It’s not important,’ said Yann, recognising in this young man a sadness all too familiar, one he had seen so often in those who had lost loved ones. So much heartbreak. Paris was broken by grief.
The Vicomte de Reignac spoke quietly with a slight stammer. He had lost his father, his mother and his beloved fifteen-year-old sister. His father and sister had been taken to the guillotine three days previously.
‘My mother and I escaped arrest. She insisted on going to the Place de la Revolution to be near them.
I tried to stop her, but nothing would hold her back. She wanted to get as close to the tumbril as she could to touch the hem of my sister’s dress.’
He stopped, fighting back tears.
‘I watched my sister go up to the scaffold. One of the executioner’s assistants pulled off the cap she wore and she flinched with the pain. They had cut off her long blonde hair. My mother let out a gasp and my sister, looking frantically into the crowd, called “
Maman!”
I knew there was nothing that could be done. I begged my mother to be quiet, but she was inconsolable. When my father went to the guillotine, she rushed towards the scaffold. I tried to stop her, but was held back by a man in the crowd. He said, “Monsieur, if you do anything you too will be caught. Get out of here while you can.” I took no notice, but tried to get free. Again this stranger restrained me.’
Maman!”
I knew there was nothing that could be done. I begged my mother to be quiet, but she was inconsolable. When my father went to the guillotine, she rushed towards the scaffold. I tried to stop her, but was held back by a man in the crowd. He said, “Monsieur, if you do anything you too will be caught. Get out of here while you can.” I took no notice, but tried to get free. Again this stranger restrained me.’
‘Who was he?’ asked Tetu.
‘I found out that he had known my parents. He was a priest who had taken Holy Communion with them and had listened to their confessions.’
‘What happened next?’ asked Citizen Aulard.
‘They sentenced my mother then and there, without the inconvenience of a trial, for showing emotion for a traitor to liberty. They bound her hands, they cut off her hair. She looked almost happy. I think it was that that riled them. They tied her to the plank and then lifted the blade of the guillotine, leaving it suspended. The blood of my sister and my father fell like rain upon her and the crowd shouted abuse.’
He stopped, wiped his eyes and took a shuddering breath.
‘After an hour, mercifully, the blade fell. I was saved that day by the priest. He hid me and told me about the legend of the Silver Blade. I can’t stay with him; it’s too dangerous. I need to get out of France.’
Citizen Aulard was shaken. ‘What has happened? When did people become this cruel?’
‘When Pandora opened her box,’ said Tetu.
Yann put a hand on the young man’s shoulder. ‘You will be leaving very soon. You must rest now.’
‘Thank you,’ said the Vicomte de Reignac. ‘May I ask when I will meet the Silver Blade?’
‘You have met him.’
Tetu followed Yann outside and asked, ‘Are you mad?
That was unwise, telling him who you are. Supposing—’
‘Tetu,’ said Yann, ‘I am not sure who I am. Why shouldn’t I be the Silver Blade? If I were you, I would say nothing more on the subject.’
Tetu shrugged his shoulders.
At the stage door Citizeness Manou said, ‘Have you heard about Colombine, then?’
‘No,’ said Yann, stopping.
‘She is now Citizeness Loup. Got married two days ago. Ah, they make a fine couple, but mind you, I don’t call it proper. I mean, it wasn’t done in a church and in my humble opinion, that doesn’t count. Still, he looks like an angel, lucky girl.’
‘Looks can be deceptive,’ said Yann.
Colombine turned up for rehearsal that afternoon. ‘I hear congratulations are in order,’ said Yann.
‘Yes. Thanks,’ she said, her voice sounding strained.
‘It was very sudden.’
Colombine did her best to avoid looking at Yann.
‘I suppose so,’ she said.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Of course. Never happier.’
‘Good. Well, I wish you both the best.’
‘Thanks,’ she said again, eager to be gone.
Pantalon came rushing up and caught Colombine by the arm. Yann noticed her wince.
‘Pardon,’ said Pantalon, ‘I haven’t hurt you, have I?’
‘No, no.’
‘Good. There is an hour of bliss before the curtain rises. Who wishes to join me at the cafe on the corner? Colombine, come on, let me buy you a drink.’
She glanced towards the stage door. ‘I think I will rest, if you don’t mind.’
Pantalon watched her leave and, turning to Yann, shrugged. ‘She’s not herself, have you noticed that?’
A
t the opening performance of
The Harlequinade
, the Viscount appeared as an extra on the stage, for as Tetu had predicted the police decided to pay the newly opened theatre a visit. The Viscount was dressed as a young woman and looked every inch the part. Two of the gendarmerie stood watching from the wings, quite enchanted, blowing kisses and acting the fool until they were called away, neither knowing that they had been watching the very man they were searching for.
t the opening performance of
The Harlequinade
, the Viscount appeared as an extra on the stage, for as Tetu had predicted the police decided to pay the newly opened theatre a visit. The Viscount was dressed as a young woman and looked every inch the part. Two of the gendarmerie stood watching from the wings, quite enchanted, blowing kisses and acting the fool until they were called away, neither knowing that they had been watching the very man they were searching for.
Afterwards, Yann sat in his dressing room removing his make-up, pleased to have got through the show.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of raised voices. It appeared to be an argument between Colombine and her new husband. Quite what was being said Yann wasn’t sure, although Colombine’s voice grew shriller until it became a cry as something fell on the floor with a deafening thud.
Yann got up and went along the corridor to Colombine’s dressing room. Without knocking he went in, to see her crumpled in the corner, and Anselm standing over her.
‘Get out,’ said Anselm. ‘This is between me and her. Get out. It doesn’t concern you.’
Yann pinned him against the wall.
‘Calm down. That is no way to treat your wife.’
‘I can do what I bloody well please. She needs to learn some manners.’
‘If you hit her again while you are in this theatre, you will answer to me. Do you understand?’
Yann let go of Anselm, wondering why it was he couldn’t read this rat of a man’s thoughts. It was as if somehow they’d been interfered with. As he turned to help Colombine to her feet, Anselm lifted a chair. Colombine tried to find her voice to warn Yann as it came hurtling down towards him, but the chair stopped short an inch from its target. Yann, without even turning round, clicked his fingers and sent it back the way it had come with such force that it smashed to pieces on Anselm’s blond, cherub-like curls.
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