Chapter Five

We travelled the short distance in silence. It was a warm mid-April evening, the hollow sound of our horses’ hooves, complemented by the chirping of frogs and crickets coming from the ponds and meadows, seemed almost musical as we passed.

We turned down a narrow road and came to the house abruptly. I was surprised to see a number of horses, perhaps a dozen, tied to the hitching rail as well as trees in front. My heart leaped with joy! I recognized one as belonging to Jacquette.

There were several soldiers standing outside the door, whether they were there in the capacity of guards or not was unclear. We dismounted and my companion asked another soldier to see to our horses. I followed him inside.

Jacquette came up to greet me immediately. “Oh, Denis! I am so happy you are here. I could not come home to you until the trouble we have has been resolved.”

“Trouble? My love, what trouble?” I asked, as I held her in a desperately hungry embrace.

“It is my father. Something has happened. A terrible calamity. We have only just arrived from Rouen. I sent for you as soon as I got here. I need you to be here, Denis.”

A man I recognized emerged from another room accompanied by the woman I knew as Ysabeau. I knew this man from a conversation I had the previous autumn; the day actually, of the executions in Rouen, when I rode off to ultimately find myself in a tavern which proved to be a hotbed of Huguenot thought. This man was the same one who gave me a pamphlet to read on the thoughts of Calvin. I had read it at my leisure as I was asked to do, but I was as suspicious of it as I was of the Roman Church. Whatever the truth was, I was not as yet satisfied I had found it.

This man evidently did not recognize me. He walked up to Jacquette and me, but looked only at her. “Your father,” he said, “has suffered a kind of palsy, I fear. He may recover, but for now he will need constant attention. His entire right side is unable to move. As you saw, even his face is without the ability to move. This is why his face droops and his tongue fails to let him speak. Someone will have to feed him and tend to other needs, for now he cannot control his natural functions. Are there persons here who can be of service?”

“I will do what is needed, good doctor,” said Jacquette. “Ysabeau will also continue to be here - Am I not correct, Ysabeau?”

“I am here. Do not fear, Jacquette.”

“Very well, then”, the doctor said. “I will be available for consultation and treatment as you need it. I have available to me a potion to remedy things such as your father has experienced. You may come to my home in Vertus, tell my servant who you are, and he will give it to you.”

“What of the cost, good doctor?” asked Jacquette.

“You should not concern yourself with that. I am an associate of the physician who cares for the Count himself. I know your father is in the employ of the Count, and I expect any costs will willingly be borne by him.”

“Good night, doctor.” Jacquette said. “And thank you.”

“Are you to be burdened with this... your father’s needs?” I asked. “What of your brother and Troeger. Do they not have some responsibility in this?”

“It would be folly to expect any help from Francois,” she said. “He and his boy, Troeger are interested in nothing but their own lives. As far as other people are concerned, they do not matter. All they care about is their practice of mutual buggery.”

“Really!” I said in astonishment. “I had no idea.”

“Oh, they do their jobs as expected, well enough. They are actually very adept at their craft. I know they enjoy it immensely. Breaking men as well as other forms of torment is a joy only surpassed by the joy of their own intimate attraction for each other and all that entails. I am certainly not in a position to condemn their tastes or behavior except for the fact they have made their membership in our household less than desirable by demonstrations of irresponsibility. I, for one do not trust them. With our current situation as it is, they should be here with our father. But no, they are seeing to other things. We are in a dire situation, Denis. Something occurred in Rouen that could completely upset our lives. I need to tell you what just happened.”

I was intrigued, but by her tone, also alarmed. “Please, tell me. What has happened that is so disconcerting besides the misfortune of your father’s sickness.”

“The preparations were made for us as usual in Rouen. There were four men to be executed by sword. My father was promised his usual fee, but the families of one of the condemned paid an extra “premium” to insure a fast and painless dispatching of their loved one. My father accepted the gratuity, but I promise, his professional ethics would in no way compromise the performance of his duties for the ones who paid no extra money. All would be secure in knowing their deaths would be swift, painless and efficiently conducted. The ritualistic activities were carried out as usual, the musicians, the haughty nobles parading in garish procession, and then I, in my disguise, leading the unfortunates by their necks.

“These four men were accused of treason and also heresy. Fortunately for them, the heresy indictment was superseded by the one of treason or they might have been burned at the stake. Rouen has a penchant for burning heretics, if I remember the stories about Joan of Arc correctly. They were accused of belonging to the religious plotters called Huguenots, of which you may know something. The fact they were nobles, two were barons and one the son of a marquis, and one a count, spared them of course, the horrors facing a commoner convicted of similar, or even lesser crimes. They only had to endure the anticipation, and final realization of decapitation. In view of the way the rest of us are punished, being torn apart by horses or boiled in oil, this is a virtual gift from God.

“The crowd seemed to be in its usual festive mood. My father received the usual accolades for the execution of his office as the first two lost their heads. The third, however, started the troubles in motion. He was introduced to the crowd as Faucheux, Gilbert Faucheux, I think, the son of a count. He was given a blindfold and encouraged to kneel. Instead of behaving as a condemned nobleman should, he tore off the blindfold and tried to take my father’s sword from him. My father slipped in some blood on the floor of the dais and fell, hurting his shoulder. Faucheux was overpowered by several soldiers who had to intervene, as my cowardly brother failed to act on father’s behalf, but simply stood with his stupid mouth agape. Troeger, of course, will do nothing without expressed orders, so he was no help.

“The soldiers restored order and the proceedings continued. The crowd found the entire scene as a comedy, I think. We were all enduring laughs and derisive comments from them until they were finally cowed into silence by the soldiers.

“My father was in obvious pain as he prepared to take his stance for the completion of the deed. Faucheux was admonished he would face a much more frightful end than this one if he failed further to co-operate, so he knelt and readied himself. My father’s technique is to spin an almost complete circle, giving the blade ample momentum to slice through the neck with one efficient blow. The injury to his shoulder made it impossible to wield the sword as he always had before. Midway through his turn, though it happened so fast it was difficult to see, he dropped the angle of the weapon enough that the blade entered the man’s shoulder, was deflected upwards and only cut half way through the neck. Faucheux lay on his back, convulsing and choking on his own blood. My father lost his balance then and fell to the floor as well, unable to move. This, I think was the beginning of the attack of the palsy which now has disabled him.

“This debacle was too much for the crowd to bear without comment. They are there, of course, only for entertainment, so the ensuing activity was a great excuse for more laughter and mockery. They turned on us almost instantly, taunting us, some even throwing horse turds.

“Someone had to finish Faucheux. I ordered Francois to do the work expected of him. He stood there like a tree, just as still, just as thoughtless. I was aghast at his ineptitude. I was desperate to salvage what I could of the situation, to interfere in the scene with my dagger and at least put away poor Faucheux, when a man from the crowd mounted the dais and put his knife into the dying man’s heart.

“I expect this actor was a relative or servant of the condemned. It is evident as well it was this family that provided the extra gratuity to guarantee a clean and merciful execution. This act of interference I had never seen before, but then it never had to have been done before, in view of my father’s skill.

“The mood of the crowd changed at once. Some began to complain of being cheated. After all, they were there to see a head taken off, not a pathetic botched attempt. The scene continued to become ugly. They began to demand a completion of the sentence. They wanted to see the head of Faucheux on a pike. I again ordered Francois to act. He began to tremble and I am sure he pissed himself, judging from his wet codpiece. He ran from the scene, Troeger behind him.

“The mob seemed now to turn its attention on me. I heard cries for someone to take my mask and expose me. I realized once they knew I was a woman for sure, I was likely to be raped and killed. I had my long knife on me, but if I used it I could raise suspicions about other things, of which you know I am referring. I had not forgotten what you told me about the relentless Constable of Rouen and how he pursued and accused you. My skills with a blade had to remain unknown, and my identity as well.

“The soldiers surrounded us, keeping the raucous crowd at bay. Our own soldiers now joined the ones of Rouen and escorted me and carried my father away.

“I learned later that several ruffians overran the dais and finished removing Faucheux’s head with their own knives. This proved to be vastly entertaining, and the crowd was mollified, but then again became angry when they learned the fourth execution was to be postponed.

“The soldiers feared we would be overwhelmed. We were quickly conveyed to the Rouen Castle and to safety. My father and I were sequestered with no one, save our own soldiers to accompany us within our quarters.”

“How then, were you able to escape?” I asked.

“First of all, we were advised to stay within the castle for at least several days for the crowd to calm down. The sergeant of our guard acted as an intermediary to keep us informed while keeping me anonymous. I feared the Constable would somehow interfere and somehow become suspicious if he knew more about us, me especially. We summoned a doctor, but he was unable to help us. He only advised rest for my father. All this time, he became worse until he was in the state you see him now.”

“Yes,” I said. “But how did you escape?”

“We knew the crowd was aware of where we were sheltered. They would forget about their disappointment soon enough, but we thought it prudent to not tempt fate by simply making an exit publicly. We simply waited five days until Sunday morning when we knew activity in the streets would be at its lowest. If we were observed by the wrong person, and it was thought we were trying to sneak out, it might cause an uproar for no real reason, but just simply because the mob wanted a cause for more sport. We were too few, and with my father incapacitated, even more so. We prepared a wagon and concealed my father within. I and the sergeant drove the wagon out without any incident. He was not in livery, so it looked as if we were a peasant couple going home to our farm. Our other soldiers left in a similar inconspicuous way and we met up later on the road. Once we were reassembled and out of reach of an entire crowd, we only had to concern ourselves with the possibility of an armed squad of deputies sent to retrieve us to Rouen. We were prepared to fight off a few of them if it came down to it.”

“What of your brother, then?”

“Oh, he showed up soon enough. We stopped for the first night to sleep and eat. We had made little progress on the road to Vertus because my father’s needs caused us to proceed slowly. We wished to avoid for him any more discomfort than necessary. We were about to eat when Francois showed up, whimpering with cold and hunger. It so happened he and his beloved friend Troeger had been chased by some ruffians when they fled the scaffold in fear of the crowd the previous Monday. They were finally run down and captured. The boys that caught them thought to strip them of their clothes and let them go naked. It seemed like great sport, but Troeger began putting up a fight. Someone hit him with a club and he fell. They continued to hold Francois while they stripped Troeger, who was either dead or knocked senseless. They then stripped Francois and began throwing rocks at him, causing him to run away and hide. Francois managed to stay hidden until nightfall and then found the Seine. He is fortunate he could swim, because swim he did. He hid in the woods when he emerged from the river and was lucky enough to come upon a peasant’s home where he was able to steal some food. He remained naked in the woods while following the road to Vertus until he managed to find us.”

“He is here now?” I asked.

“No! The cowardly bastard is at his home. I told him his misfortune was his own doing. If he wanted to accompany us he had to ride in the wagon with Father - if indeed Father would allow it!”

“He rode in the wagon, naked and whimpering, a total disgrace and shame to our family. We dropped him off on the way here. He promised he would be here readily once he ate and put on clothes. He is not here yet, nor do I expect him any time soon.”

“Can we see your father?” I asked.

“Yes!” Jacquette gave me a gleaming smile. “Of course! Thank you, Denis.”

We entered the adjoining room to see Monsieur Chastain. He smiled weakly at us and lifted a finger in greeting from the side of his body that was still in his control.

“Hello, Father,” Jacquette said in a cracking voice. “We are here and will care for you until you are well. Do not fear, Father.”

He gave another weak smile and closed his eyes.

“He needs sleep,” she said. “We should go.”

Jacquette and I headed for home. It was obvious she was irate with her brother’s behavior as well as the difficulties she knew were facing her in caring for her father.

“Tell me, Denis,” were you able to make peace with Alphonsine?”

I was surprised at the question. I would have thought other of several subjects would be asked about first. However, I simply said, “Yes. As a matter of fact, I was just at her home earlier. I had just eaten when I was called to you by one of the soldiers.”

“Good,” she said. “I have need of her services. Tomorrow we will visit her to see if she can produce some medicine for my father.”

“Tomorrow is only Friday, Jacquette. I am expected to work.”

“Oh, very well then. I can go without you, I suppose.”

“You do not mind?”

She glanced at me and grinned. “Now, no. I do not mind, Denis.”

We arrived home and put up our horses. I was happy to know she was satisfied with the way I had managed to keep house in her absence. There was little to do, really. I needed to keep the floor reasonably clean and the kitchen arranged as she wanted, but since I had not needed to cook much at all, that was of little effort.

Nevertheless, she said a reward for my efforts was in order. We kissed passionately for several moments, enjoying each other’s touches after such a protracted separation. She stated rather emphatically I was now to be subjected to the “rigors of love”. I inquired as to what that entailed and she again began kissing me. She slipped down and knelt in front of me, pulling on the cincture that held up my breeches. Once they were down and my cock was out, she grasped it and placed her tongue on the tip, pushing with it as if she were trying to somehow enter within. She lifted my balls and began kissing, then licking the skin between my legs underneath. By now, my cock was at its most erect state. It began throbbing with urgent excitement, an emission imminent, obvious to her as well as myself. I said to her, “Jacquette, already? I am about to come”.

“Yes,” she said. “I want you to. I need to taste you. Let it go, my love. We will have time for more again after this.”

She placed it in her mouth, moving her lips in a way to further stimulate me, devouring my issue as I moaned in ecstasy, she emitting sounds of pleasure as well in simultaneous excitement.

I was more than gratified with her efforts to subject me to the “rigors of love” as she characterized her endeavor. I expected I should now reciprocate in kind. I knelt before her, my breeches now off, and lifted her shift to view the place between her legs I found so entrancing. She sank to the floor, breathing heavily with erotic anticipation. I began by kissing the insides of her legs, close, but not as yet at my ultimate goal. I placed my face into her crotch, kissing the outside lips but as yet not the prize. I placed my thumb in her wet, willing vagina, my forefinger tickling and then probing within her ass at the same time. I then found a way to move them in a stimulating manner while then licking the place she desired me most to be. I stopped for a moment.

“Jacquette,” I said, “spread your lips for me. I need to keep my fingers where they are for you.”

She complied, opening herself with her hands as my tongue expressed the love I felt and my fingers entered further and remained within her lovely, quivering body.

She cried out with delight as she relished the orgasmic fulfillment I had delivered. I marveled at the way she expressed her satisfaction, an almost musical expression of joy.

“I love you, Denis,” she whispered softly. “Thank you. I needed you so.”

We simply stayed in each other’s arms, laying on the floor, looking at the roof rafters, each stroking the other’s body, I her breasts, she, my balls, as if we had not already spent ourselves.

My next day at work went well enough. I was assigned a new project to produce. I was told the Count himself had heard of my skills and was interested in being fitted for a new suit of armor to be produced locally, and by me in particular. I was elated with the prospect of having such confidence shown in my abilities, especially since the man I replaced, the noted Simon Palaczak, was such a renowned master.

I arrived home that night with the news. Jacquette was happy for me, to be sure, but she had some good news as well. It seems she had visited Alphonsine that day while I was away. It happened that Alphonsine was sure she knew of a potion that would provide a cure for Monsieur Chastain, one that would not conflict with anything the doctor in Vertus was intending to provide. This it seems, could not fail; two different remedies, both with the same goal in mind.

I was told as well we were invited that evening to have dinner with Alphonsine. She would give us her medicine while we were there, to be administered at our discretion.

Jacquette had visited her father earlier that day and had seen no change. Tomorrow, she said, she intended to go into Vertus to see the doctor, or at least pick up the medicine the doctor offered to her.

We spent a delightful evening with Alphonsine. She was an excellent cook and hostess. We dined on some sausage and cheese, along with pickled cabbage. She had a skill with the use of herbs and spices as well; the food was pungent with aroma and delectable with flavor.

After dinner she gave Jacquette the potion she made up to help her father with his recovery. Instructions were given for the amount of dosage as well as frequency.

We spent an hour or so consuming wine from Alphonsine’s own stock, she being an able vintner among other things.

“Thank you, Alphonsine,” said Jacquette. “I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this.

Denis, may I thank Alphonsine properly?”

“Do that which you wish, my love,” I said, feeling the warmth from Alphonsine’s wine, adequately overcoming any inhibitions I may have had. I knew precisely what she meant by her comment. I had no reason to object, and no recourse if I did. “Get me another bottle first, and I will leave you alone to thank her as properly, as you wish.”

I left Alphonsine and Jacquette to themselves. It was a warm evening in late April. The moon was full and there was no difficulty in seeing. I grabbed my second bottle of wine and took a walk to the river.

I stood in the moonlight, listening to the sounds of the night, the frogs and crickets, the gurgling water as it moved on its way to meet the Seine and then the sea. I disrobed and stood in the river, thinking I might swim a little. I felt a certain erotic urge for pleasure and began fondling myself. I am unsure what came over me, but I began to fanaticize about what I thought might be going on at this moment in Alphonsine’s cottage. I envisioned the two of them, engaged in some kind of strange embrace, perhaps using their tongues to pleasure each other, licking in turn their partner in the most intimate places, bringing each other to unparalleled heights of excitement and ultimate completion; the fulfillment of erotic desire. The more I thought about it the more excited I became. Almost unconsciously, I began rubbing myself, then I pushed it to the point I had no alternative but to the ultimate conclusion; I ejaculated into the river, my body throbbing as my imagination produced for me an orgiastic fantasy.

As long as I am here, I thought, I still may as well bathe. I enjoyed a good swim, then dressed myself and returned to Alphonsine’s.

We rode home in relative silence. Finally, Jacquette spoke up. “Are you angry with me, Denis?”

“And why would I be, my love?”

“Please! You know why.”

“Very well, Jacquette. No, I am not angry, but I am curious. I already accept your attraction to Alphonsine. I consider her a friend and not in any way a threat to our relationship. She in fact, has assured me of as much. I suppose I would like to understand more about your attraction to each other, but not to change or interfere in it, you must understand.”

“All right, Denis, what do you want to know?”

“It is difficult to ask, even awkward. Perhaps it is best I do not ask. I do not need to know anything other than I will be with you always, as will, I suppose, Alphonsine.”

“Yes. That is true enough, Denis.”

The following week was productive for me and Jacquette as well. I was introduced to the chancellor to the Compte de Vertus, and given the expected order for the Count’s suit of armor. This suit was to be the finest and most intricate I had ever produced. I was elated with the assignment and had no doubt I was up to the task. I was assigned a young man to be my apprentice. I had some trepidation at first about being put in any kind of exalted position, remembering the resentment I had been subjected to in Rouen, but everyone seemed to respect me here and very willing to work with me.

Jacquette was happy with the apparent progress her father was showing. There was an indication his palsy was not getting worse. There was hope the combination of the medicines from both the doctor in Vertus as well as the one from Alphonsine was taking effect. Jacquette made it a practice to visit him daily. She seemed satisfied that Chastain’s current intimate, the woman named Ysabeau, was intent upon remaining faithful in her commitment to Chastain’s needs.

I arrived home Thursday night to an especially nice dinner. Jacquette had produced an excellent meal of lamb and bean stew accompanied by cooked carrots. We dined on the sumptuous feast and then opened a bottle of wine from Alphonsine’s vineyard.

“Denis, my love, we are invited to have a special dinner with Alphonsine on Saturday. Do you think it possible to have the day off?”

It was, I thought. I would arrange for it the next day, that being Friday.

Friday evening passed as usual - which is good, I must add.! We spent a good part of the evening enjoying the lusciousness we found in and on each other’s bodies. There was no real limit to my fascination with Jacquette’s attributes. I loved hiding my face between her breasts, I would try biting her nipples gently, causing her to respond in a squeal as if she was experiencing pain rather than excitement. I especially found pleasure in kissing and exploring her vulva with my adventurous darting tongue. She would frequently react in a convulsive manner, letting me know my efforts were not in vain.

She seemed to like my taste as well. I have known women who, when confronted with a spouting man, will react reflexively, unwilling to accept the issue as it came to them. Not so with Jacquette. She did not just passively accept my emission, she actively encouraged its flow. She showed no compunction about the desired ultimate conclusion, but rather seemed to relish it. She had to be the ultimate dream for any man - and she was mine!

The frequency of our love- making was only compromised during the times Jacquette felt indisposed by her natural rhythm. She never wished to refuse me, but I respected her needs and willingly abstained. She was usually willing, even eager to provide a pleasurable evening for me even on these occasions, although it was likely to be only one-sided.

Saturday was planned already. We were to be Alphonsine’s guests that afternoon for what Jacquette described as a “special banquet”. The morning would be spent visiting her father, Monsieur Chastain. Jacquette had been faithful in dutifully visiting her father daily, attending to his needs as well.

She reacted with utter disgust this time when she saw the state her father was in, especially since the day before, when she left his house, he was clean and comfortable.

“What the hell!” she shouted angrily at Ysabeau. “I left him yesterday in fine condition. Today he is a reeking wretch, laying in his own shit! Why have you not cleaned him, Ysabeau?”

“I was unaware, Jacquette”, she protested. “I only just now know it. It must have just happened.”

“Please do not lie to me Ysabeau,” Jacquette said condescendingly, “This is dried already. It has been on him for hours. Clean him please. Clean him now!”

“You are his daughter! You clean him!” Ysabeau retorted. “I, for one am tired of this. I slave here all day, keeping house, nursing your father while that damned worthless brother of yours no more than lifts a finger to assist. He does not even do so much as come around to inquire of your father’s health, let alone offer to help me out.”

“Francois has not been here at all?”

“No! Not at all.”

“Very well, Ysabeau. It is obvious you are not up to this. I should have known my brother would be of no help. I am sorry for expecting the impossible from you. I will ride to Vertus yet this morning and find a person to hire as Father’s nurse. I expect you will still be here to help out. You do care for my father, do you not, Ysabeau?”

“Oh, yes, Jacquette!” Ysabeau said, pressing her hand to her bosom to accentuate her truthfulness.

“Jacquette?”

“What is it, Denis?”

“Just a thought...Who will pay the wages for a good nurse? I mean, are there funds in the family to afford such an expense?”

“No need to worry on that account, Denis. If nothing else, I will force my worthless brother Francois to cover the costs. After all, he is directly responsible. He has obligations of honor and has shirked them. I will confront him as soon as I have a chance. For now, however, we will go to Vertus to find a nurse. You can expect relief as early as this afternoon, Ysabeau, if we are successful.”

Jacquette and I rode to Vertus. We thought it wise to call on the doctor first to get advice. The doctor gave us the name of someone he knew well and recommended. He promised as well to visit the Chastain home later in the week to check on the patient’s progress.

“You know, young man,” he said to me, “you look familiar. Have we met before?”

“I was at the home the night you were there, Good Doctor.”

“Yes, I know, but I was not referring to that. We have spoken before. I am sure of it.”

“Perhaps we have. If so, I trust it was under amicable circumstances,” I said.

“Ah!” said the doctor. “Outside of Rouen last autumn. We conversed in a tavern. I am sure of it. We spoke of Calvin. I gave you a pamphlet. You must have read it.”

‘Why yes, I do remember now,” I said disingenuously. I really wanted to avoid discussing the subject with him. As I said before, I had read the pamphlet, but was as unconvinced by it as I was with the religion of my youth.

“Well? Did you read it?”

“Yes. Yes I did, Doctor.”

“And your opinion?”

I wanted to find a way out of this conversation. I hoped to not appear patronizing, but I said what I thought would be acceptable as an answer and yet facilitate escape without causing any distress to the doctor. “I found it most intriguing, Monsieur Doctor, but inscrutable to some degree. Perhaps I should reread it, and on another occasion when time is not a pressing factor we could find time to enjoy a conversation on the subject.”

“Well said, young man! We will indeed do just that. I expect to be visiting Monsieur Chastain soon. Perhaps then.”

We took our leave of the doctor and went looking for the home of the person he recommended as a nurse.

The woman we met was certainly acceptable. She was a widow in her middle age, a mother of several grown children with extensive experience in nursing, having served in battlefield medicine as well as domestic roles.

We were pleased with the result. The wages were agreed upon easily. The good woman, Christine Montargis, would pack some clothes and arrive that very afternoon. She required to have two days a week for her own needs, on which days she would go to her home in Vertus. On those two days, the duties would be taken care of by Ysabeau and Jacquette. Francois was not even considered as a contributor. I could tell Jacquette felt nothing but contempt for him.

We were on our way back to Chastain’s home. “Denis,” said Jacquette. “What is the story between you and the Doctor?”

“What do you mean, my love?”

“Now, please, Denis! You aren’t trying to hide something, are you?”

“No, not really. I did not want to get into a discussion on religion if I could avoid it. It usually leads to disagreement and inevitable acrimony. I would rather keep my opinions to myself, and allow others to do the same.”

“Allow?”

“No, not allow - demand! If there is one thing that angers me consistently, it is the sanctimonious hypocrisy coming out of persons with a religious agenda. Their opinions on the subject are no more valid than anyone else’s, yet they feel entitled to ridicule as well as condemn anyone whose views are inconsistent with theirs, and then - if you have the misfortune to make a point which makes them uncomfortable, like something totally logical rather than a nebulous notion bases on wishing or dreaming, you are accused of heresy and likely burned.”

“Goodness, Denis!” Jacquette said with a smirk, you do have a sensitive side. So, now tell me if you will, how do you know the doctor?”

“During the executions in Rouen last autumn, I left early. I saw all I wished to and decided to go for a ride. I ended up at a tavern in which I had the occasion to converse with the doctor, though at the time he was a total stranger. He and others in the tavern were discussing religious subjects. I was aware by their manners they were not fond of the Roman Church. The doctor gave me a pamphlet written by the much maligned John Calvin. I read it, and now I fear I have lost it.”

“Denis, I think you need to know something. The doctor’s name is Claude Mourette. He is a leader in Vertus of the Huguenots. He has a substantial following and remains safe here only because the Count is sympathetic to his cause. Outside of Vertus, he needs to be anonymous as the crown has been trying to eradicate his version of religion as well as any other so- called Protestant movement. King Henry, as I am sure you know, has declared war on anyone who preaches a doctrine contrary to Rome. The irony is the persons we were in Rouen to execute were accused Huguenots. The Count allowed us to provide our services in spite of his sympathies. There was really no choice for him, I guess. He had to appear as loyal to the crown. I just hope the unfortunate incident involving my father will not complicate matters for us.”

“What worries you?” I asked.

“My father and the rest of us enjoy the life we do because the Count values our services. He provides the lands we live on, and is providing the doctor’s services for my father as well. If he does not recover and is unable to continue serving the Count, we could be put out. I only hope the Count is patient and Father’s recovery is timely.”

We arrived at Chastain’s home. Jacquette told Ysabeau the news about the help we had procured for her. She could expect Christine that very afternoon. Jacquette looked in on her father. “Thank you, Ysabeau, for cleaning my father.” I appreciate your efforts and intentions toward him. I hope there are no ill feelings.”

“There are none, Jacquette,” she said sullenly. “Thank you for helping me out as well.”

It was becoming late in the afternoon. “Come, Denis,” said Jacquette. We are due at Alphonsine’s.”

We arrived a little later than expected. Alphonsine was sitting at the table outside enjoying the warm spring day.

“Ah,” she said. “Welcome! Let us have some wine and bread. The banquet is for later this evening, of course. I have a small pig cooking on buried coals. We will have a bite of bread now and then you may prepare, Jacquette.”

“Prepare?” I asked.

“You will see, Denis. First, have a cup of Alphonsine’s wine.”

We finished our wine, then Jacquette said, “Come, Denis. I need to bathe. I would think it a good idea if you came to help me.”

We walked to the river in silence. We disrobed and entered the water. I really had no idea what the purpose behind Jacquette’s urgent interest in bathing was, or Alphonsine’s comment about preparing. We enjoyed a nice swim. The water was cold, and I was entranced by the way Jacquette’s breasts reacted; as her nipples seemed to harden and display themselves prominently. I started to become aroused, my hands enjoying the places on her body I touched as we engaged in our washing. I began kissing her breasts and then groping her buttocks, trying to elicit a response from her which would undoubtedly cause a delay in our expected arrival back at Alphonsine’s.

“Not now, Denis,” she said. “Come. We are expected.”

We walked toward the cottage. We approached the strange round building made of stone that I saw earlier and found so curious.

“Follow,” Jacquette said, as she walked up to the building.

We opened the door and entered. What I saw was quite remarkable. There was a large object of stone, evidently hewn away by someone into a basin. Surrounding this was perhaps a score of oil lamps illuminating the room while metal containers exuded the scents of burning incense, which I thought to be jasmine.

“What have we here?” I asked, rather astonished at what I saw.

“This, Denis, is our wonderful secret,” said Alphonsine with a smile. “Look about. This stone object was hewn from the native rock a long time ago. I think it was done by Romans, judging from the Latin inscription. Take a look. It reads “M ARBUTUS FECIT-made by a man named M. Arbutus, I think. We, Jacquette and I, discovered this many years ago. I expect that whatever its original intended use was, it ultimately became a repository for chicken manure. We were involved in removing the manure from inside for the garden when we struck the stone. I wonder how many years went by with this building being used as a chicken barn. We removed hundreds of barrow- loads before it was in the condition you see it now. Is it not remarkable as well how the building has stood for so long, if it was actually built by the Romans, it could be a very long time.”

“The building itself could be newer than the stone, though,” I opined. “The stonework does not resemble the Roman remnants I have seen in France. It may only be a few hundred years old, while the hewn stone could be over a thousand. You could, Alphonsine, invite an expert to make an evaluation if you were curious enough.”

“Oh, I would never do that, Denis,” said Alphonsine. “This place is our treasure. No one has any inkling of what is inside here. No one but you has been inside and seen this for probably many centuries other than Jacquette and myself. You must know, Denis, this place is to be kept only between us and must at all costs remain a secret. We have made a great commitment in putting our trust completely in you. I believe in you, and Jacquette is in love with you. You are totally one of us, Denis, and as such you must protect our interests, as those interests are now yours as well.”

“You have my word of honor, my dear Alphonsine. But please, what exactly are we protecting with such care? What do you use this place for?”

“You will see, Denis,” Jacquette said, her teeth showing in a beautiful smile. “Now, you have expressed curiosity about just what Alphonsine and I do when we make love. We will no longer have any secrets between us, you and I. We are intending to demonstrate for you the expression of the love Alphonsine and I have for each other. We wish you to see it all without holding anything back. We only ask you to remain still and watch without comment.”

Jacquette removed her shift and stepped on to the stone basin. The surface was smooth, it seemed, attesting to the craftsmanship of the Roman mason who originally created it. She assumed a position of sitting, her knees bent, her legs spread somewhat apart.

I marveled as Alphonsine removed her cloak, displaying the gorgeous ivory skin of her shapely, supple body, her lovely inviting breasts, her shapely, well- muscled thighs and buttocks. She carried a pitcher with her she had retrieved from a small heating stand over a burning lamp. As she stepped upon the basin, she slowly emptied the contents upon the naked body of Jacquette as she sat, legs open, resting on her hands. I watched with wonder as I realized the liquid in the pitcher was likely valuable olive oil. Jacquette’s skin glistened as the light from the flaming lamps danced about her, accentuating the exotic speckles on her skin I found so prepossessing. Alphonsine put the emptied vessel aside and assumed a position next to Jacquette. They began rubbing the oil on each other, causing their skin to shimmer. They repeatedly scooped more oil from the basin, rubbing it on each other until they seemed satisfied they both were totally covered.

Alphonsine took a position atop Jacquette as she now lay on her back. With their bellies together, they began sliding back and forth against each other, the oil providing lubrication enhancing the sensation they were obviously enjoying, judging from the sounds of pleasure I heard them make. Jacquette assumed the top position and began moving her breasts in a sideways manner across Alphonsine’s chest. I was fascinated as I watched their glossy bosoms interact, first compress by direct contact, then to see the breasts falling again as one found the space between the other’s as they slid across. After some time of doing this, they sat facing each other, then they manipulated themselves in order to slide on each other’s legs in order to bring their vulvas together, thus making a firm contact, as if they were engaged in a passionate, wet kiss. It was obvious this maneuver was efficacious; they both making the sounds a woman makes while in ultimate ecstasy.

As I watched, I was becoming more and more excited by what was unfolding. I heard a whisper as Jacquette said something in Alphonsine’s ear.

“Would you like to join us, Denis?” asked Jacquette.

“I would!” I said, rapidly removing my breeches and jacket. I eagerly stepped upon the basin, almost falling from slipping on the oily surface.

“Oh my, Jacquette!” exclaimed Alphonsine, “It is big!”

“I told you as much, my dear,” said Jacquette to Alphonsine.

“Come, lay with us, Denis. We will see what happens next,” Jacquette said.

They began covering me with the warmed oil, rubbing me everywhere, between my legs, my hardened cock, my ass, as well as my chest and back. I was as soaked with oil as my two partners. We all began sliding with each other, I found some special interest in trying to feel Alphonsine’s breasts and vulva, but she consistently pushed my hands away, yet, all the same, she tried several times to place a finger up within me.

I wondered how this was going to end, this mysterious escapade of carnal adventure. We all seemed to be enjoying each other immensely, but what follows?

“I heard Alphonsine say something to Jacquette. I heard her respond, “Yes, certainly, Alphonsine. Go ahead.”

“Denis, I have permission to borrow you,” Alphonsine said. “You do not mind, do you?”

I looked at Jacquette. My eyes asked an unuttered question. Jacquette nodded, implying whatever was going to transpire next was all right with her.

Alphonsine put herself on her hands and knees. “Come up behind me, Denis. Do me now. Do me from the back.”

I looked again at Jacquette. I was expected to do this, that was obvious, and do it, I would.

I brought myself into position, taking my excited member into my hand, preparing to find the entry of her vagina. “No! she said. That is Jacquette’s place. It is only for her. The other is for you, Denis.”

I was somewhat baffled, but I knew what I needed to do. I began rubbing the end of my cock against the delightful, but unexpected alternative she offered me, trying to achieve entry. “It is too big, Alphonsine,” I said. “I fear it is too big to get in.”

“Use the oil. Put some on your finger and wet inside me and soak your cock with it as well. It will go in.”

She was right. Once adequately lubricated, my “soldier” was able to perform its duty. I thrust myself in as far as I dared. I had no idea how she would react, but she encouraged me to provide the full length. She began moving back and forth, stimulating me with fantastic pleasure, the tightness of her canal squeezing my throbbing cock. She began moving her knees back and forth, as if walking on them, yet because of the slippery oil, staying in one place. I could feel her lovely buttocks rubbing against the front of my legs as well as my lower abdomen.

“Keep it inside me, Denis. I want to change positions.”

We found a way for me to lay on my back while still inside her. She began moving herself directly up and down upon me, providing exquisite sensation.

“When I need to come, Alphonsine, it will be up inside you. All right?”

“Of course! That is where I want it. Any time is fine, my friend. Any time.”

Jacquette now presented herself to Alphonsine. “Taste me while he is doing you, Alphonsine. I will put a finger in you at the same time. We will all finish together.”

We changed positions again. Alphonsine went back on all fours while Jacquette lay on her back and put her head between Alphonsine’s legs. I could tell by the sounds Alphonsine had found Jacquette’s desire and Jacquette had her finger where she promised it to be. With a spontaneous but simultaneous burst of urgent energy, glistening wet with oil in the dancing light, entranced by the sensuous aroma of jasmine, we achieved the ultimate satisfaction.

We lay for a while enjoying the contact of each other’s naked bodies. I began kissing one of Jacquette’s breasts, Alphonsine the other.

“Thank you, my dear friend, Denis, that was wonderful,” said Alphonsine.

“I thought so too,” I said.

“And I,” said Jacquette, “I thought it wonderful as well. Now, however, it is time for our meal, is it not, Alphonsine? We must first go to the river and wash, then prepare to eat.”

“We must wash again?” I asked.

“We keep ourselves clean as a courtesy to the other,” said Jacquette. “We expect the same from you, Denis.”

“Know this as well, Denis,” added Alphonsine, “I rarely am interested in doing anything with men. We may never again do what we did today. Jacquette is usually all I need. This was a special occasion. We wished to introduce you completely into our lives. I hope we have successfully accomplished that and you are one with us.”

“I am, my dears,” I said. “We are together forever.”

“On our terms, Denis?”

“Yes, on your terms,” I said. I felt a dangerously fearsome desire to somehow seduce Alphonsine, but I knew what the terms were. This was the most forbidden of all fruits for me. I knew I would need to be honorable for all time, despite my nascent lust for her.

Alphonsine excused herself to go outside, attending to her needs. I took the opportunity to address Jacquette in a hushed tone.

“I have a question, Jacquette. In view of what I and Alphonsine just did, do you have any objections? I mean, some people might now find me unclean or unsavory.”

‘Denis, my dearest, Alphonsine and I have had an intimate love between us for a long time. I think that whatever is in Alphonsine is in me and anything in me is likely in Alphonsine. We keep clean out of consideration for the other as I said, but I have no compunctions about further contact with you. If it were otherwise, would I have ever allowed it?”

After washing, we returned to Alphonsine’s cottage. It was almost dark, but we were able to complete our preparations for our feast. We extricated our cooked pig from the ground, finished preparing our vegetables as well, and then sat down to eat. We watched the last of the sunlight disappear, eating our sumptuous meal and drinking Alphonsine’s wine.

We drank and laughed together well into the evening. I must admit, though my arrangements with these two women were unorthodox to say the least, I counted myself as most fortunate. I loved them both, I realized; dearly and profoundly, but in different ways. I could easily explain my feelings for Jacquette, they were more or less derived from the natural affection one has for a lover. My captivating allure for Alphonsine, however defied description. I was becoming entranced by her. I had seen and finally experienced her body, though not as completely as I would have liked. I knew I never could have those luscious breasts in my mouth, or the lovely taste of the vulva Jacquette could have any time she wished. I had to accept it. She had no desire to make love with me probably ever again. What we had together earlier was an aberration, entirely on her terms, and only with Jacquette’s assent.

“Well,” I said, beginning to become overpowered by wine and amorousness, “I wish to drink a toast to a wonderful friend and a wonderful lover. May we three be together all of our days.”

“And I” said Alphonsine, “I toast a wonderful friend as well as a wonderful lover. I hope we never part until death.”

“I,” beamed Jacquette am the most fortunate. I have two wonderful lovers. Good health and long life to us all!”

The evening had come to an end. We held each other in an embrace of profound love. We spoke reassuring words to Alphonsine, thanking her for her efforts to provide such a meal - indeed, such a day! Somewhat reluctantly, we mounted our horses for the short ride home.

“So, did you think Alphonsine was all you expected?” asked Jacquette as we rode.

“Yes, even more, I think. I never expected what happened today. After all, Jacquette, I promised you way last year there would be no others, and then you actually permitted - no, encouraged me to do what I did with her.”

“What you and Alphonsine had together is no threat to me. I knew she wanted to do it, and I was sure you would like it, so where is the harm?”

“You say this only happens on rare occasions, so that means it has happened before?”

“Never mind, Denis. If it ever happens again, you will be the one. Only you.”

Sunday morning arrived. We slept longer than usual, but then arose refreshed and in good spirits.

Jacquette said she wanted to go to her father’s house to see if everything was well. She was confident in the new nurse Christine, but not so as far as Ysabeau was concerned, and certainly not so her brother, Francois.

We arrived and much to Jacquette’s relief, all seemed well. Christine had arrived the day before as promised, and immediately set in to put everything in order.

“Thank you, Christine!” Jacquette said with glowing appreciation. “Father looks comfortable and clean. It looks as if you are trying to straighten up the place too. Excellent!”

“You are welcome, Madame,” Christine replied. “I have given him the medicine you have provided, but I am concerned he has not responded. He seems to stare out at God only knows what. How long has he been like this, Madame?”

“Around two weeks. He seems to not be getting worse, but at the same time, not improving. You are a Godsend, Christine. We are in dire need of your services.”

“Please remember, Madame, I have to have two days a week at my own home to tend to things. I think, as this is Sunday, I would like to be off in four more days. Could you please plan on providing a replacement for me on Thursday and Friday?”

“Not to worry, Christine. I will do it myself if Ysabeau cannot. By the way, is she here?”

“No. The woman who was here left the moment I arrived yesterday. I have not seen her since. Your father was filthy. It is good I arrived when I did. Also, two men came by last night as well. One said he was Francois Chastain, the son of our poor man in the other room - your brother as well, I assume. He wanted to visit his father. I heard harsh words coming from his mouth, as if he were angry with Monsieur Chastain. He stormed out of here, but not before he tossed through the place, as if he were looking for something.”

“The person with Francois, what did he look like?”

“Quite tall, a shaved head, but with a swarthy bearded face. He said nothing, he only stood about, acting as if he were senseless.”

“Troeger!

Thank you, Christine. I will visit every day to provide help if you need it. I must now try to speak to my father, if it is possible to do so. Please excuse me.”

Jacquette spent a few moments speaking, or trying to speak with her father. She emerged from his room with a glum expression. I could see she was upset.

We said good day to Christine, mounted our horses and without another word, rode toward home.

I broke the silence. “So, were you able to speak with him?”

“Barely, Denis. He managed to tell me what I needed to know. I know he is a broken man and will not survive this ordeal. He told me as well Ysabeau will not be back, and is likely in league with Francois to steal my father’s money. Francois tried to find out by bullying where he had his money stored. The cowardly, sniveling bastard had just enough bravery to come here and try to extort money from his weak, dying father. I intend to put an end to this. I do not want the last days of my father’s life to be consumed by bullying, greedy children. If I see him again here at father’s home, he is as good as dead.”

“The medicine is not working, then?” I asked.

“Perhaps it could have, had he not been barraged by a shrewish woman and an ingrate child. It is too late now, I fear. He will die soon, and when he does, our lives will all change, and not for the better, I am certain.”

“What do you expect to happen, Jacquette?”

“We will be evicted unless the Count is willing to sell us the lands we occupy. This is a possibility, but I have not looked into it yet. I intend to go into Vertus tomorrow to see a lawyer. I will try to do something. We will see.”

“Have you the funds?

“Perhaps. It depends on the price. Again, we will see tomorrow, Denis.”

Jacquette and I went about our respective agendas Monday morning. I want to the armory and to my work, she to Vertus as well, but to find a lawyer for advice.

My day proved productive, but rather uneventful. Not so Jacquette. I arrived home to an angry and troubled woman. I could see there was a storm churning within her by her uncharacteristic manner and expression. “What is wrong?” I asked.

“Denis,” she said tearfully, “my father is dead. He died this morning while I was away. No one was with him but Christine. He died without me. I feel terrible.”

“I am sorry for you, my dear Jacquette, Grieve his death as you must, but do not call yourself to account. After all, you said yourself, you were expecting this, and he was as well. Besides, you were there with him through most of his ordeal, and saw to his care as well. He knew you loved him, Jacquette. I think he died happy knowing that.”

“Thank you, Denis. I know now more than ever why I love you. I wish there was no more bad news than this, but there is. I spoke with a man today in the service of the Count of Vertus about our need to secure the property here if at all possible. This was, of course, before I learned of my father’s death. Even before this event, I learned we were already in jeopardy of being evicted. The Count was considering our inability to perform the service for which he provided us with housing. He feared my father’s infirmity would make it impossible for us to continue. He did provide however, for the eventuality of a recovery, and agreed we could have until the end of August to see whether or not we could still work for him. He, however, was angry about the humiliating disaster that took place in Rouen the day my father took ill. He blamed Father for a blow to his reputation as a provider of professional and reliable services along the lines we were renowned for. All this would be forgiven, I was told, if father recovered and could resume his work by August.”

“That is totally unfair, Jacquette,” I said.

“Perhaps,” she said, “but fairness is not an issue. Little people like us do not fit in to any consideration of fairness. However, there is still more, Denis.”

“More?”

“Yes. There is talk the King is going to move upon the Count of Vertus and call his lands forfeit. It is only a rumor, but the Count is finding himself in disfavor for his perceived sympathies to the Huguenots. If this happens, all other considerations are pointless. We will all be evicted from here unless King Henri decides to let things remain as they are. This is unlikely, however. His wife, the horrid De Medici medusa, has a lot of say, and is full of vindictive hatred, I am told, for anyone she can call a “Heretic”.

“Is not Vertus actually French Crown land now?” I asked.

“From what I understand,” Jacquette said, “Vertus was until recently considered to be owned by the Dukes of Burgundy. This changed because, as you know, Phillip, the king of Spain is also the Duke of Burgundy now, as was his Father, Charles. Henri is at war with Phillip over lands in Flanders and so in effect has surrounded Vertus. The Count was only ruling Vertus with the assent of Henri anyway. Now, out of Queen Catherine’s spite, he will be expelled, if the rumors are true.”

“First things first, Jacquette. What of your father? Are we to arrange anything, or what do you intend?”

“Christine is making preparations. We are simply going to bury him tonight without ceremony. This is what he would have wanted, I am certain. I need to get Alphonsine. I will meet you back here and we can all go to his house.”

“What of your brother, Francois?”

“Damn him! I think he brought this about with his greed and truculence. I do not want to see him again.”

A short while later Jacquette arrived back with Alphonsine. We rode together in silence, keeping our thoughts to ourselves, anticipating a simple ceremony, but a somber end to our day.

Christine had prepared Monsieur Chastain to be presentable. Jacquette was obviously pleased with Christine’s efforts and expressed it effusively.

We conveyed the poor man to a place on the property Jacquette and Alphonsine saw as appropriate. I contributed my efforts by digging an adequate grave. We placed Chastain in the hole, put a few spring flowers on his shrouded body, then without any words of tribute or eulogy, I was asked to cover him over.

Jacquette thanked Christine for her services and paid her the agreed upon wage along with a large gratuity. Jacquette insisted Christine tell no one of Chastain’s passing until given permission. Christine asked to be allowed to spend the night in Chastain’s cottage as she was uneasy about walking home to Vertus in the dark.

We left for home in better spirits than we were in earlier. Jacquette was bereaved, but still she had a certain fatalistic outlook which afforded her the ability to cope. Alphonsine was somewhat tearful, but I think more on Jacquette’s behalf than anything else. We were able to converse somewhat happily. We were not ignoring the obvious, rather we were simply coming to terms with it. Jacquette asked Alphonsine to stay for a visit. She wanted to discuss what she had learned, and Alphonsine was as involved as anyone.

“Alphonsine, I learned today we are likely going to be sent away from here. This was going to happen with all likelihood whether Father had lived or not. We will soon be evicted. I am giving you advance notice that we may be forced to vacate in a hurry. We have enemies in Vertus as it is. We have been safe here only because of Father’s usefulness to the Count. The Count may soon be dispossessed, and the King becoming the full power. Even if that does not happen, we would be thrown out because our usefulness to the Count is over. We lose either way. It would be prudent, I think, for all of us to prepare a sort of contingency ensemble, a collection of our personal possessions to take in an emergency. We may be given no warning by the King’s forces if we are forced out. We could use your wagon and jackass to take what we can. We would all have a horse of our own, and could take turns in the wagon, giving each of our horses a rest while we distanced ourselves from here quickly. It also may be wise to leave prior to any eviction. I think our enemies would love to find us in a vulnerable state and do their worst.”

“Jacquette!” I said with alarm. “Wait, please. You are anticipating things that could very well not happen at all. I agree our stay here on these lands is unlikely to continue, but even so, must we abandon Vertus entirely? I am doing well here. I could support us if you were only making small contributions in raising food and such. We could likely find a small farm to buy, could we not?”

“That reminds me of something,” said Jacquette. “Alphonsine, my dear, I have a business transaction for you. While in Vertus today, I was approached by our go- between who requests I deliver a package of medicine to him for a poor girl in dire need. He asks I bring it to him in two days, Wednesday, to be exact. Same price to be paid as before.”

“Very well, Jacquette. I have some dried pennyroyal already, and I can concoct the entire “treatment” tomorrow for you.”

“Do such things actually work?” I asked.

“They do, yes,” Alphonsine stated.

“How so?” I inquired. “I have heard stories of similar treatments which were promised to be effective, but ended unfortunately.”

“May I tell him, Jacquette?” asked Alphonsine.

“By all means, My Dear. Tell him how you know it works.”

“I know it works, Denis, because it worked for me.”

“You? You, Alphonsine?”

“Two summers ago, I was attacked by two men that happened upon my cottage after crossing the river my land borders. They took great enjoyment in making me cry for mercy while they beat me, raped me over and over, and then killed my dog for sport with their barbaric weapon, one of those spiked balls on a chain. They gleefully smashed him into an unrecognizable heap of bloody hair. They laughed as they left, saying they would be back in a year to see the result of their efforts, to ascertain which of them was the likely father.

“I was fortunate Jacquette was home and not gone on business. She tended my cuts and bruises, then saddled my horse for me. I told her I could certainly identify them if I were to see them again. We headed across the river, following the route I saw them use as they left. We followed the tracks we identified as theirs, one of their horses hooves having a distinct imprint. After an entire day of riding, we came upon these dogs, laying next to a fire, settling down for the day, and even though it was only afternoon, already noisily boisterous with wine. From a distance, I assured Jacquette the two men were the ones we sought. She dismounted her horse and took up her badelaire, concealing it under her cloak. She told me to stay in my saddle as she led my horse directly into their camp.”

‘Are these the men, Alphonsine?’ she asked me loudly, while getting their attention at the same time.”

‘Monsieurs,’ Jacquette said then, ‘my friend tells me you gave her quite a ride. You held nothing back from her, it seems. I thought perchance I would attempt to return the favor for her. As you will soon see, I will hold nothing back from you.’

“One of the men,” Alphonsine continued, “rose, and sensing a threat, yet at the same time considering the possibilities of having the two of us as a prize, drew his sword in order to intimidate her and further his goals. Even if one of us was dead, I suspect, it made no difference to him, as even a corpse would likely suffice for his pleasures. It proved to be an act of folly. He approached Jacquette, his blade above his head as if he were intent on cleaving her through from skull to crotch. She dropped to one side as the blade came down to the ground, and at the same time she rolled, avoiding the clumsy attempt, then with a scream only Jacquette could make, she brought her badelaire against the assailant’s foot, completely severing the entire half in front of the ankle. Once this one was incapacitated, she had to deal with the man wielding the spiked ball. He came at Jacquette, whirling the deadly missile in a vertical trajectory, which would easily take most of the head, from the lower jaw to the forehead in one strike if the move were successfully executed. She allowed the lethal ball to get as close as she could, anticipating an opening for counter-attack if she could get him to turn suddenly and lose balance momentarily. Jacquette had learned great technique from her father. She was an avid and assiduous student. Her study paid off well here. In one clumsy attempt to kill his victim, the man lost his balance enough to give Jacquette her opportunity. She used her skill, swinging her flashing blade into the top of the man’s knee, totally removing the cap and causing him a crippling blow. Now she had the two men, miserable dogs, really, whining and crying, writhing on the ground, begging for mercy.”

“Wait! Wait, Alphonsine,” Jacquette interrupted. “I do not want Denis to get the wrong idea. He has seen me kill as well. I do not want either of you ever to fear me. I do what I do because I can help. There are many victims of brigands and rapists who never see revenge. I only do it for justice, not pleasure. You must believe me, both of you.”

“And I do, believe you, Jacquette.” I said. “In most cases, there is nothing you could do to really even the score between the victim and the perpetrator. As an example, if someone hits you on the head, you could repay it with a blow to his head, but does that even it out? I think not. After all, your head still could hurt, and you did not deserve it so. The fact your assailant now has a sore head does not stop your head from hurting. As I see it, a doubling or trebling of the degree of the retaliation for the initial act could at least approach justice, but in your case, your reaction, no matter how severe your retribution, would still leave room for more justified severity.”

“Thank you for that, Denis. All right, Alphonsine, you may as well tell him the rest.”

“Very well. We remembered seeing a thicket of rose brambles on the way to the men’s camp. Both of the men had bled out enough that they were weakened to the point of helplessness, let alone considering their wounds were already debilitating as well. We used our horses to pull the two miscreants to a cliff towering over the rose briars. They howled in pain, protesting the way they were being conveyed, but then, what of me? I howled in pain as well, and they only laughed. What of Tiberius, my poor little dog? He howled too. We came to our desired destination, the precipice, which had below, the impenetrable growth of rambling roses. Jacquette produced her other blade, the miseracorde, and presented it to the two whimpering, and I might add, all of a sudden, contrite men.

“Well, Monsieurs,” she said in her typical Jacquette manner, ‘I have an offer for you. I can simply cast you over the rocks to the bottom, by which you will likely die a terrible death. You could survive the fall and simply become a meal for the ravens. You are in any event, never going to escape your current predicament. On the other hand, I, out of extraordinary mercy, could eliminate your misery by using this friend here in my hand to prevent the pain you will surely face if I do not. You must speak now. Otherwise, you go over the drop alive. Die now, or die then.”

“Wait, Alphonsine! Is that what I said? It seems so imperious - so vindictive.”

“Yes, Jacquette! That is exactly what you said. Furthermore, it is exactly what should have been said. Just imagine how many people like me were hurt by these two dogs over time. Persons who never saw justice for their pain. Whatever you could do to them would never approach that which they really had coming.”

“Very well, my dear friends,” I said. “I need to know the end to this tale. What happened next?”

“You tell him, Jacquette,” said Alphonsine.

“Very well. As was told, I offered them both an escape from unknown pain. Neither thought my blade in their heart would be preferable to a fall into the unknown. Very well, the choice was made. I simply rolled the dirty bastards over the side, into the briars below. I expect they fed the ravens a long way past Christmas. I am sure their bones are there somewhere in the roses, likely never to be seen.”

“Brava! Brava! Bon travail, mon cher Jacquette!” I grasped my lover by her waist and kissed her intensely, not wanting the moment to be interpreted as anything other than an expression of admiration. I only wished I were anywhere near as capable as she to strike blows for justice. I, like her was not concerned with the law and with all its hypocritical litigious niceties. I too, was concerned only with true justice.

“This was a wonderful story,” I continued. “But still, my question. How do you know the pennyroyal works?”

“I know it works, Denis, because about a month or so later after my rape I failed to have my periodic flow. I knew I was with child, a child I did not want. I subjected myself to the same treatment I had administered to others with the same difficulty, the same as I was taught by my mother. All I can say is my flow, though over a month overdue, to my relief, came to me. I have no doubt my medicine was my remedy.”

“I too, can say it works,” Jacquette added.

“You, Jacquette? But when? But, I never knew...”

“What makes you think it was not before I knew you, Denis? There are things you need not know, and I would rather not discuss.”

“All right,” I said. “What else do we need to consider?”

“Tomorrow, I will ride with you on your way to your work as far as my Father’s home. I want to pick up a few things of his, personal mementos and such. Tomorrow night I think we should make an effort to arrange our possessions to enable us to leave at a moment’s notice. This means, regrettably, we need to determine what we cannot keep. We cannot burden ourselves with useless trapping as our capacity will be limited by what the wagon will carry. Tomorrow, then.”

With the arrival of morning, I and Jacquette left, heading toward Vertus. Actually, the town was only a short distance, and would be readily visible were it not for the surrounding forest. Brigands have been known to hide behind trees to attack and rob the vulnerable. I expressed to Jacquette that I wondered if any were ever foolish enough to try to rob her.

“Once,” she said. “I was riding home from Vertus and was accosted by a pair of young men intent on the usual. One of them walked from behind a tree and stopped my horse. The other tried to pull me from the saddle. Neither had a weapon drawn, so it was not difficult to teach them a lesson. One now has no nose and one has only one hand. I let them go free, but I wonder if I should have. I think the family of one of them lives in Vertus. There never was an investigation, as I expect neither wanted to admit being bested by a mere woman. But, there are persons around here who wish me ill, and that could be one reason why.”

We parted company at Chastain’s home. I continued on to my work at the armory.

I noticed as I approached the Count’s castle there was an inordinate number of persons milling about, some were soldiers, but their dress was that of the Crown’s forces, those with the livery of the Valois, not that of the Count of Vertus.

I continued on to the armory. I noticed my overseer, a relative of the Count, standing outside.

“Monsieur d’Arcy,” I said, addressing my superior, “what is happening?”

“I am afraid, Denis,” he said gravely, “all is in ruin. The count has been summoned to Paris. I fear he has gone too far with the king’s patience. If he is to be accused for abetting the Huguenots, as I fear he will be, it could be found to be treasonous. If so, I need not tell you what will transpire next. I have been summoned as well, though I have no real involvement with any of this. I expect to be found innocent, but at what price?”

“What of us, Monsieur d’Arcy, what of the armory?”

“I expect the king will assume control of Vertus officially within a few days. When this happens, my position, if indeed I survive this, will be gone. The king will confiscate everything here and will likely replace most of you as well, if indeed he decides to keep this armory operating. As of now, Denis, we are closed. I suggest you pack your tools immediately and leave without any word to anyone. Most of your fellow workers have already done the same, at least those who were made aware earlier, when the soldiers came last night.”

I acted on my overseer’s advice. I said nothing to anyone. I simply packaged all my tools, save for those too big to take without bringing too much attention to myself. I owned everything I was leaving with. I was not stealing anything, but I thought it prudent to avoid any questions from soldiers walking about. I feared they may be under some orders to maintain possession of everything until a hearing to prove ownership could be carried out. Regretfully, I abandoned several fine implements, hand crafted by the former owner himself, but I had no alternative. I still had to act in a furtive manner to avoid attention, but I was successful.

I arrived home to Jacquette’s surprise. I explained the situation to her, and we were of one mind. We would leave that very night. She and I rode at once to see Alphonsine. We hoped she would be prepared. We feared there was no time to loose. On the way, Jacquette told me her father’s house had been ransacked again. Francois and Troeger had come during the night, according to Christine who has spent the night there.

“I know it was Troeger,” said Jacquette. “He must have survived the debacle in Rouen and found his way back here. He really is a mindless dupe. I am glad he has no interest in women for Christine’s sake. All he and Francois did was thoroughly search the place, then took only my father’s sword, the two- hander he used for his work. Christine said they were angry there was no money to be found. They were sure someone had it hidden, but they gave up and left. They also mentioned father’s woman, Ysabeau. I think she told them where to look - the conniving bitch!”

“What of his money?” I asked. “He surely had some, did he not?”

“All in good time, Denis. Right now, we must break the news to Alphonsine.”

Alphonsine accepted the news stoically. I was sure she regretted deeply having to leave Vertus, but she put up a brave front. “I have everything prepared as you said, Jacquette. I will hitch the donkey and we will be on our way. I could see tears in my dear Alphonsine’s eyes as she wrestled with the inevitable. She looked longingly at her cottage as we rode off, a place that had seen so much passion expressed by her toward the one she loved most of all.

We arrived back home to complete our preparations. I had few clothes to take, and other than that, only my tools. Jacquette packed a few possessions other than clothing. None of the cottage furnishings were owned by the occupants, so that was not a consideration.

“One more thing!” she said, raising her forefinger. She took a shovel from the stable and walked behind the rear wall. “Denis.” she said, “would you please dig away the soil here?”

I complied, and almost immediately contacted a buried object.

“My father had me hide his money,” she said. He had good reason not to keep it in his own house. It is obvious now he trusted only me. Well, it is ours now my dears. We will have some comforts yet, I assure you.”

The day was Tuesday, May the sixteenth, 1559. It was nearing sundown by the time our final preparations for departure were complete. There would be only a sliver of a moon that evening, but it was waxing, so our travels could have adequate illumination for a few days to come.

“Well my dear friends, where do we go? We have been in such a hurry to leave, we have not considered a destination. I suggest we head south. We could go north to Flanders, they all speak French, but it is not safe there. The forces of Spain persecute all who differ from church doctrine, no different than here. There is nothing to gain for us to be in a Habsburg prison rather than a Valois prison, I think. I believe the south is the best place for us. I have heard tales of wonderful gardens in places like Toulouse and Foix. We could have a good life there, by dears. We only have to be prudent and unobtrusive, just like in Vertus. I should be able to find work no matter where we go, so it really does not matter, but still, the south is best.

“The south it is then!” Jacquette exclaimed. “Alphonsine, what do you say?”

“I like the idea of gardens, so the south it is!”

“By the way, Alphonsine, I remember something. Did you make up the potion as you intended? I realize it is short notice, but we really should provide as we promised.”

“I have it, Jacquette. We can place it where we always do on the way. There will likely be no money, as we are a day early, but we will have kept our word.”

“Well then,” I said, “I am most fortunate. I look forward to a new life with a wonderful lover and a wonderful friend.”

“And I,” said Alphonsine, “I too have a wonderful lover and a wonderful friend.”

“And I am the most fortunate of all,” beamed Jacquette. “I have two wonderful lovers! Let us be off! No looking back now, my dears. We are rid of this place, and I am rid of my previous life. Never will I have to be what I was before.”

I could see a quiver on her lips as I heard a crack in her voice. The tears I could see told me there was a feeling of relief as well as triumph. We were off, never to see the gates of Vertus again.

We worked our way to the County of Foix, located south of Toulouse. We were able to find a fine piece of land to rent as well as adequate shelter. The location had much to offer us. There was a river on one border along with enough arable land to raise food and perhaps a few goats. We hoped to be able to find a way to stay here permanently if at all possible. The considerations were more than merely financial. We had a life-style we wished to maintain. Our uninhibited interpersonal interests and the expression of them by our un-conforming activities would never be accepted in a country such as this if they were ever discovered. Neither the Roman Church, any assembly of Huguenots, nor any other religious faction for that matter, would condone us being in their midst. We would be expelled at least, but more than likely hanged or burned at the stake. I introduced Jacquette as my wife and Alphonsine as my sister to anyone we had to deal with. We would use utmost discretion at all times, never divulging our true status to anyone, and not ever, under any circumstances putting ourselves in a position where observation and discovery were remotely possible. We were able to be somewhat careless in Vertus, at least on our own property, but here in our new home, this could not be the case.

It was during the middle part of July word came to us that Henri II, of the House of Valois, king of France, was dead. He had incurred a serious injury during a jousting tournament on the last day of June. He actually had an eye penetrated by a splinter, and by the tenth of July, he died of an infection.

Henri’s son, Francis II then assumed the throne at fourteen. He was married at the time to the young Mary Stewart, aged sixteen, known later as Mary, Queen of Scots.

Influenced by the insidious powers surrounding him, Francis furthered the persecution of heretics initiated by his parents, Henri II (Valois), and Catherine de Medici.

Francis was a sickly boy, and within a year and a half, he was dead. He was then succeeded by his ten year old brother Charles IX, who was entirely dominated by his mother Catherine, who then acted as Regent. It was during these times the worst of all calamities were to be seen in France.

Turbulence due to religious animosity seemed to be everywhere. More and more, we learned of atrocities committed throughout France in the name of someone’s god.

We, Jacquette, Alphonsine and myself. only wished to live in peace. Soon after the death of King Henry, I was able, with the funds Jacquette provided from her father’s savings, to position myself in a prosperous enterprise fabricating items as needed by the local citizens. The opportunity arose when, as it happened, a local artisan, both blacksmith and tinker, suddenly died leaving his poor family in a dire condition. I was able to purchase the business from the widow, wisely providing her the precise price she asked rather than haggling with her to take advantage of her unfortunate situation. This simple act endeared me to her, and went a long way to enhance my general acceptance in the community. Soon enough, my reputation provided me with more than enough work to earn an adequate living.

In the month of October 1559, I was surprised by a visiting traveler in Foix, while I was there in the town buying supplies. We recognized each other as both being former residents of Rouen, he having left, hoping like me, to find a less oppressive environment. It seems his religious sympathies had wandered dangerously close to Huguenot interests, and he hoped somewhere to find asylum. This could be easily accomplished by simple discretion, but like most persons aflame with religious fervor, discretion is not one of their attributes. They cannot resist arguing against or for points of doctrine even at their own peril. I had no advice to give on the subject other than to be circumspect and unobtrusive, neither characteristic being found in his makeup, more than likely.

He then told me an amazing story. It seems the erstwhile executioners Francois Chastain and Troeger had arrived in Rouen shortly after all of us left Vertus. Francois, it seemed, tried to find employment with the local constabulary as an “interrogator” as well as executioner, he having extensive experience on the subject, and also in view of the fact his father was no longer available. He had his father’s sword, he boasted, and was more than capable of wielding it expertly. He was trying to impress the wrong man, it seems. The person he was talking to asked him if he had ever killed anyone as a swordsman. Francois stated indeed he had, brigands mostly however, no one of importance. He stated he had learned his skills from the Sword of Saint Omer, the great Chastain himself.

He was asked then if he could possibly provide any proof to substantiate his claim. The interviewer added that last year there was a group of three obvious criminals found dead near Rouen while the Chastains happened to be in the area for an execution. They were obviously killed by an expert swordsman, but no one it seems, ever came forward to claim credit.

“Could that superb swordsman have been you, Monsieur Chastain?” asked the interviewer.

Francois Chastain, unable to summon even a modicum of discretion, could not resist.

“Indeed, sir, it was me. I killed them all.”

“And did you use the sword you now possess?”

“No, I was able to use another”

“And the dagger wounds to the man in the breastplate and helmet... Was it you who cut out his eyes?”

“It was!” gloated Francois Chastain. “The bastard deserved it.”

“And their money?”

“I only took their money as a fee for my efforts!” Chastain said, laughing with lying embellishment.

“I have heard enough,” said the interviewer, who turned out to be the same relentless man who had me in his eye as a perpetrator, and would have caused me to endure the pear of anguish to betray my accomplice had I not been fortunate enough to be spirited away to Vertus and into the arms of Jacquette.

“I have my man and I have his accomplice. No trial is necessary. You and your murdering partner will hang today!”

Thus ended the life of the fool Francois and his feckless associate. I knew there would be no one to mourn him, but I decided this entire affair would never reach Jacquette’s ears in any event. This tale would die with me, I thought. There was no need for her to know.

I turns out the person telling me this story had first- hand knowledge of it. He was present in the Rouen Castle when it transpired. He was employed by the Castle as a guard. That is how we recognized each other! He had known me because there was a time not so long ago I could have been in the shoes of Francois Chastain.

The years have progressed favorably. All this time we three have maintained our relationship as we have hoped. We all love each other, and express it in acts of kindness and solicitous consideration as those in a loving relationship are expected to do.

Our passion for each other? It has not abated - not in the slightest! We continue to enjoy the ways we gratify each other’s needs and desires. No one of us feels threatened by a third party. We can share a moment of blissful passion with one, or with two participating.

Fortuitously, Jacquette, even after all this time, has not become pregnant. I say “fortuitous” because the current situation in France is worsening. The wars of religion are taking their toll in cruel atrocity and misery for the innocent populace. This time is not one to have children. It would be a disservice to force them to live in this terrible world of hate. I do not know if Jacquette’s childlessness is due to being barren or to Alphonsine’s pennyroyal potions. I suppose I do not need to know. We only wish to live in peace. We keep our personal lives to ourselves, though we do take an active role in the community. We hope these terrible times will pass and all will be well.

For now, my business is growing. Alphonsine has established an excellent gardening enterprise on the land we were ultimately able to purchase outright. She is quite content providing medicines from her apothecary garden for the community, as well as cheese from the goats she raises. She has agreed to be very careful with whom she gives pennyroyal, if she does so at all. The less the occasion for the possibility of suspicion or gossip, the better.

And my Jacquette? I have nothing to give but praise. She is indisputably the force that binds us so inseparably. I never tire of her and her amazing love of life and energy, from her kindly willingness to be of service to others to the ritualistic maintenance of her brutal skills with that deadly badelaire.

On many occasions I watch her practice her moves as if she were rehearsing a dance. She wields that lethal blade at imaginary opponents while giving out a scream of intended mayhem only my Jacquette could make. I only shudder to think what it would be like to be the target of her fury. This is something I will take care to always avoid. This is the reality one had to consider when loving a headsman’s daughter.