H.J. Gaudreau - Betrayal in the Louvre Read Free Page A

It crept in, hidden on the back of that mist.  He could not stop it; he didn’t know how to fight it.  But he knew, he knew that change, danger and, perhaps death itself was stalking him.  He could feel it, sense it and it chilled him.  His stomach had tightened; a taste of bile had risen in his throat and was with him day and night.  He had waited long enough; he would not be irresolute about this, now was the time.  Now he needed to protect the throne and his son. 
    And that was the purpose of this afternoon’s meeting.  Was he being prudent?  A coward?  Or, realist?  He hadn’t decided, and he no longer had time to think of it.  The heavy clap of boots on stone echoed behind him.  He glanced one more time in the direction of that hateful hotel, noticed the rain had increased.  An omen?   He turned to face Lieutenant General Nikolaus Luckner. 
    Luckner was a German.  And, as such he couldn’t rid himself of his German accent.  He was one of the few men Louis had ever heard who could make the beautiful French language sound hard and rough.  He was tall and weathered having spent his life under saddle.  Louis supposed he could be called a good-looking man.  Those looks and the size of his purse assured him of a warm bed each night.  His military expertise was without question though in a few short years he would, not for the first time, change his loyalties.  He was well educated, having studied with the Jesuits of Passau.  His military experience was extensive, and to say varied understated it.  He had served with the Bavarian, Dutch and Hanoverian armies.  He had fought as a commander of Hussars during the Seven Years War against Louis’ father.  Now however, he seemed to have found a home in the French army.  He was a strange pick for the task at hand the King thought.  But, the two had an odd closeness that seemed more a function of nature than of their personalities.  Was he a friend?  Louis thought not, but he was no enemy.  In any case, here he stood, looking directly at the King.
    Luckner hadn’t yet made his obedience; no sign of acknowledgment, he simply stared at the King.  It irritated Louis, but he didn’t have time to make a point of it.  After a moment’s pause, Louis spoke, “Nikolaus, I have a most delicate task for you.”
    “At your command sire,”  Luckner said.
    The king smiled in spite of himself.  Luckner never used the honorarium “Sire”, it sounded ironic, fake and contrived coming from him.  Yet, perhaps the seriousness of the day had made itself known to him.  Who could know?  He looked hard at his General.  What was in the man’s soul?  Could he be trusted?  The choice had been made, he continued.
    “I believe there is some danger on the horizon.  The communes seem to reject the authority of the King and it will take some time to reassert that understanding.”
    “Have you considered simply putting them to the sword?”  Luckner asked fully expecting to be sent out to do just that.
    “I have.  Yet the countryside would not bear it.  The people would rise up against me.  No, it is better to work this out.  But, there are some…”  He paused, his face grew dark.  No, not dark.  Something else, Luckner couldn’t put his finger on it.  “I think we will have some difficult days,” the king said more to himself than to his General.
    Louis turned to the window.  The dusk was deepening into night.  The rain had steadied and except for the pattern inlaid in the marble courtyard, the Cour de Marbre, he couldn’t see anything.  He thought about that, yes, the scene was blurred outside as well as in.  He was quiet for a long moment.  Luckner became uncomfortable.  What was happening to this King?  The man needed to stiffen his spine, put the leaders of this crisis to the block and be done with it.  He was about to interrupt the silence when the King turned.  He seemed to have found a bit of strength.  
    “My son,