Chapitre Dix-Sept

Le Traitement

Beatrice

A shadow of gloom settled over the Renart home, and had not lifted for days.

Lucien had locked himself in his study, and only seemed to come out to demand more wine. Even Beatrice found herself unable to console him.

Andre had barely left the mansion, and certainly had no guests recently.

Cecile wandered the halls in total silence. The dark circles under her eyes were a testament to how little she'd slept.

Even Annette had been granted leave from her clerical duties, and often led the family and their servants in prayer.

Couriers arrived every day to deliver thick tomes, bound in cloth, directly to Lucien's locked study.

Physicians came and went from the mansion constantly, often leaving with heavy expressions. Beatrice would look to them for any sign of hope, but they would only shrug and shake their heads.

Leon had been bed-ridden ever since he blacked out in Senon after his duel. His wounds were deep, and the physicians were doing all they could to combat both the blood loss and the infections. He had won the duel with Marc at a dire cost.

Beatrice returned to his bedside, where nurses watched over him. His palid skin was drenched with constant sweat. She took a knee beside his bed and held his hand tightly in her own. His flesh was so hot to the touch, and his hand shook in hers.

"I'll be fine," he said, weakly.

She smiled at him, silently praying that he was right. But she could see nothing at this moment that could make her confident in her plea.

A lump forced its way up against her throat every time she saw him like this. So vulnerable, so weak. This was the man she was to treat like a son, the man she'd grown to love so much, and she could do nothing to help him.

Every day that Leon was awake he'd tell Beatrice he was going to recover soon. Every day had gone on like this, with no sign of improvement.

Beatrice almost envied Marquis Forbin. Yes, he had lost a son, but he was grieving assuredly, rather than nursing a waning hope. Beatrice's lips bled from her fretful nibbling. Was anything worse than watching a loved one suffer like this and wondering if they would survive?

"Ahem."

Beatrice turned her head. Fitzroy stood behind her with his hands folded in front of his lap. "Yes?" she said.

"Might I have a word, my lady?"

"Oh... Certainly." Beatrice's heart raced as she followed Fitzroy to a private room. Why was her husband's left hand pulling her aside? What news had he heard from the physicians about Leon's condition.

Once they were in private he closed the door and spoke just above a whisper. "I need to speak with you about the Forbin family."

Beatrice rolled her eyes. "The Forbins? I don't give a damn about them!"

"I understand that, but they still need to be dealt with."

Beatrice started for the door. "Talk to my husband about it."

"He won't speak to me. All he does is ask Lucilla to order more books."

Beatrice stopped with her hand on the door and hung her head.

Fitzroy continued. "And Leon is certainly in no fit state to take over for him."

"Why don't you ask Andre?" Beatrice asked.

Fitzroy stared at her blankly for a moment, as if unsure how to answer her question.

Beatrice chuckled. "You're right. What was I thinking?"

Fitzroy pulled an envelope from his pocket and held it in front of Beatrice. "According to my agents Magnus has been arrested on suspicion of high treason."

"Treason?" Beatrice repeated. She snatched the envelope and opened it. The contents, however, were pure gibberish.

"It's in code," said Fitzroy. "Rest assured, Magnus Forbin has been arrested for treason."

"Why?"

"Because of the things Leon said." Fitzroy took back the envelope. "During his duel, before the Imperial Palace and several members of the Imperial Guard, Leon claimed that Magnus was romantically involved with a barbarian woman. Fraternizing with the enemy is a capital offense."

Beatrice rubbed both of her temples with her fingers. "Oh dear... and the Imperial Guard thought this an actual accusation? They didn't realize that Leon was trying to rile Marc up?"

"Maybe they don't want to take any chances," said Fitzroy. "Or maybe the Empress was looking for an opportunity to strike at the Forbin family anyway, and Leon's accusations just allowed her to do so."

"So, why do you need me?" Beatrice asked. "It sounds like this problem solves itself."

"Well, not entirely." Fitzroy scratched the back of his head. "You see, if they try him and find him innocent then the Imperial Guard will have questions for Leon, and they may even arrest him for false accusations. Even if Leon wins at trial, he will have gone to jail twice in one year. You can imagine what the other houses will think of that."

Beatrice groaned. "Yes, what a scandal..."

"On the other hand, if Magnus is found guilty, which he is not, then he will hang. Couple that with his brother and father's deaths-"

"Wait... Marquis Forbin is dead?" This was certainly the first Beatrice had heard of it.

"Not yet, but I already have agents working on it," said Fitzroy. "Lucien gave the order before the duel even took place. In any event, with all three men of House Forbin dead we would have a vacuum of power which our enemies could take advantage of. Even the barbarians could benefit from it if they learn that there's a weak spot on the Salian border."

Beatrice threw up her hands in frustration. "If having House Forbin fall is so dangerous call off the assassins!"

"My letter would never make it in time," said Fitzroy. "Besides, Marquis Forbin is far more dangerous to us than Magnus. Magnus' only advantage over us was that Leon trusted him, but his father has connections and a spy network."

Beatrice paced the room. "So... we have to spare Magnus the noose somehow, is that what you're telling me?"

"That seems to be the case," said Fitzroy.

Beatrice thought it over for a moment, biting her thumb. After a long moment of silence she finally spoke. "Then here is my solution. First; I will write a letter to the Empress stating that what Leon said during the duel was nothing more than hateful words, and that none of it is true. Leon will sign the letter. That should get Magnus released from prison. Once the letter has been sent you will train me to defend myself."

"My lady?"

Beatrice folded her arms over her chest and looked away. "One way or another this is going to go horribly wrong, and when that happens I want to be ready. You'll teach me how to fire a pistol so that I'll be able to do more than simply cower in a corner."

"Y-yes, my lady."

Beatrice visited Leon several more times that day. Each time whichever nurse or physician oversaw his care at the moment informed her that Lucien had not visited him at all. Andre had been there to offer his sinner's prayer. Cecile had come by to comfort Leon, telling him that she could feel it in her gut that he was going to be fine. Annette, too, had visited him, and sung the Hymns of Healing in an attempt to raise his spirits.

But no sign of Lucien. He still had not left his study.

Was he already in mourning? He'd not lost his son yet. If he was so certain that Leon would not survive he ought to spend these last moments with his son, create a few last memories.

After all, that's what Beatrice did in her father's last days, long after she knew he'd never recover.

It was too much. With a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes Beatrice stormed down the halls of the mansion. Servants and bodyguards jumped out of her way. Her fists were clenched so tight her nails nearly cut her palms.

The door to the study was closed, as she expected. Beatrice pounded on the door furiously. "Lucien, it's Beatrice!"

A sad, weak voice croaked out from within the study. "I'm busy."

Beatrice pounded on the door again. "Open this damn door! I am your wife and I demand an explanation for all this!"

"What 'this?'" Lucien responded.

Beatrice clawed at her own temples in frustration. "Your son is sick, maybe dying, and all you can think to do is lock yourself in here and drink yourself into a stupor?"

Her question was met with silence.

"Open the door, Lucien!"

Still no answer.

"I swear, if you don't open this door I'll... I'll do something to humiliate you! You think your enemies know too many of your secrets now? Oh ho! Just you wai-"

Before she could even finish her sentence Lucien pulled the door open. His clothes and hair were a mess, and the bags under his eyes suggested he'd not slept in days. "Quickly!" he whispered as he pulled her into the study and closed the door behind her.

"What are you..."

Beatrice's words vanished from her mind the moment she saw everything strewn about the study. On every desk sat mortars and pestles, alembics, various herbs and minerals, strangely-colored liquids in vials, and old books turned open to pages with strange symbols on them.

"Alchemy?" Beatrice cringed as the word left her lips. Wine bottles lay on the floor, most of them emptied of their contents. Beatrice looked hard at one of the bottles and saw that in the middle of the bottle there was something wrapped in lamb's skin. Was this how Lucilla's people had smuggled in the ingredients?

Lucien turned away from her. "Yes, I know." He raised his hands and mimicked an uptight clergyman. "But alchemy is occultic! That dark art was perfected in the days when witches ruled Salia!"

Beatrice snorted at him and shook her head. "Your glibness does you no credit. If you know it's a black art why are you practicing it?"

"Because it can help Leon," said Lucien. He ran his fingers along the pages of one of the dark tomes on his desk. "The witches weren't wrong about everything... no one is..."

Beatrice folded her arms and turned up her nose at him. "So... how long has this been going on?"

"This time around? Only since Leon got sick."

Beatrice's jaw dropped. "What do you mean 'this time?' You've done this before?"

Lucien threw a handful of herbs into a mortar and pestle. "When I was a boy I dabbled in this sort of thing."

Beatrice stared at him with wide eyes. "You didn't..."

Lucien shrugged. "I did. Much like Leon, I was a bit rebellious. Part of defining myself as an individual and not just my father's son was doing something my father would never do. So I played around with alchemy." Lucien ground the herbs into a fine powder and poured them into the alembic, along with the liquid contents of one of the vials.

"Why did you stop?"

"My father was sick... and I tried to cure him. I failed. After that I had no time for alchemy. It was just as well, a secret like that is bound to come out at some point when you play Le Jeu Fatal."

Just as Lucien reached for more ingredients for whatever elixir he was brewing Beatrice touched his hand, stopping him. "And if you do get caught you know what it means, right?"

Lucien sniffed and nodded. "They'll hang me, I know."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because it could save Leon."

"It didn't save your father."

Lucien gently pushed her hand away and continued his work. "Through alchemy I saved five different people's lives, and I was just a novice. The problem is not with the craft itself."

"What if it is?" Beatrice asked. "What if whatever potion you brew for him just makes it worse?"

"Worse?" Lucien grabbed one of the books and threw it against the wall as hard as he could. Beatrice jumped away from him. "Merde! How could it possibly be any worse!" Lucien sneered at her. "He's dying, Beatrice! The physicians have no hope for him!" When he saw the tears in Beatrice's eyes his expression softened and his shoulders sank. "I'm sorry... Look, I really believe this is his only chance. If there's such a thing as fate, then I think it was written in the stars that I should pursue this so that I can save Leon's life."

"But... what if the Church is right about alchemy?"

"Then I will forfeit my soul," said Lucien, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "I'd gladly give that up to save Leon. He's going to grow up to be a far better man than I ever was."

"Don't say that..."

"You know it's true." Lucien poured the compound into a test-tube, squeezed a cork into the top, and swirled it around vigorously. From his desk he picked up a magnifying glass and looked closely at the elixir he'd created. "Here." He held the bottle out to Beatrice. "Hide this in your purse. Have Leon drink it."

Beatrice held up her hands and stepped away from the bottle. "Why don't you give it to him?"

Lucien gestured to the alchemical materials and literature. "I have to destroy all this... burn the books, smash the tools... I can't leave any trace of what I've done."

Beatrice nodded and smiled at him. "A sound plan."

"I don't intend to ever practice alchemy again, I want you to know that." He slipped the bottle into her hand and closed her fingers around it. "Go. Heal our son." Lucien kissed her on the lips briefly, and then opened the door for her. He glanced down the hall to make sure no one was coming, then gently pushed her along by the small of her back.