Chapitre Quinze

Pas Mon Ami

Lucien

Lucien held his cane by the top of the handle and twirled it against the floor of the carriage. Truthfully, he didn't need the cane to walk, but he always felt it important to take it with him when he went to the capital. Thieves and criminals abounded in that great city, and he needed to be ever ready to defend himself.

Only he and Leon sat in that carriage, both of them silent. Leon stared out the window, his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his saber and his teeth digging into his upper lip.

"I must ask," Lucien began, breaking the silence between them, "When you found out that Magnus was a traitor why did you not simply have Fitzroy handle it?"

"What? Have him killed in his sleep?" Leon scoffed at the idea. "No, I've more honor than that. Magnus is a soldier, so he shall die a soldier's death. He'll die in heated blood--"

"We both know this has nothing to do with honor!" Lucien snapped Leon's boot with the end of his cane. "When you found out he was a traitor you discovered he had no honor!" As Lucien spoke Leon bit his lip harder and clenched his fists. The tears the boy fought to hold back spoke volumes of what was in his heart. Lucien knew that if he kept pressing he'd get the truth. "So why not have Fitzroy poison him? After all, through his treachery he poisoned your soul with hate."

The clock struck one in the distance, the bell echoing through the city streets.

"I want to humiliate him!" Leon pounded his fist on the wall of the carriage. "The same way he humiliated me! He's a soldier, and therein lies his pride. I want everyone to see him bested by someone who's never seen war!" Droplets of spittle flew from Leon's lips as he spoke. Every word made his face ever more red hot with rage. "Then I want him to die in shame for what he's done!"

Lucien sighed and hung his head. "This sort of thing is why I keep insisting that you learn to play Le Jeu Fatal."

"What? So I don't risk my life? Have someone else fight my battles for me?"

"No, so these little betrayals won't cause you so much anger," said Lucien. "How many times must I tell you? Every aristocrat is playing the game, whether they want to or not. Magnus was too when he spied on you. Once you understand that it's nothing personal, it's just the game, then it becomes far easier to forgive those who've wronged you."

"Forgive them while you have assassins kill them?"

"Exactly," said Lucien, lightly passing his cane back and forth between both hands. "It's not personal, it's just something that needs to be done. You think I'm angry at Magnus' father for what he's done? Not at all! I actually can't help but admire his cleverness."

"Admire him?" Leon stood in the carriage, bumping his head on the ceiling, and grabbed Lucien by his collar. "He murdered Corina!"

"And for his sins he will pay," said Lucien, still as calm as he'd been a moment ago. He hit his cane against the back of Leon's knees and pushed against his chest with his free hand, causing him to fall backwards into his seat again.

Both of them were startled by a sudden shout beside their carriage. "Fresh fish!" After a moment they both realized that it was simply a merchant hawking his wares, and both had a small laugh.

Lucien continued. "Understand something, I don't disapprove of your choice to duel Magnus today. I would have handled things differently, of course. But, you have said that whenever you and Magnus fenced he couldn't beat you. Frankly, it will humiliate the whole Forbin family to have one of the Marquis' sons die in a public duel like this, and that suits my ends."

"I don't care what you think." Leon crossed his arms. "You don't understand. How can you understand? You don't have any friends, and you pride yourself on that fact!"

Lucien shrugged and nodded. It was fair, he did as much as he could to keep anyone outside his own family at a distance.

Leon continued, "Magnus pretended to be my friend, and I looked up to him. He seemed such a true friend, too. He wasn't afraid to reprimand me when I was wrong. He taught me everything he knew about life. He made me believe he truly cared!"

Lucien sighed and turned his eyes to the carriage ceiling. "Maybe he does."

"What? How can you even--"

"Has it not occurred to you that maybe he truly does care?" asked Lucien. "Maybe none of his love was false. Maybe it was all true. But for whatever reason he finds himself torn between his family and his best friend. Between what he wants to do and what he feels he must do."

"So, he's just playing the game because he feels he has no choice? He always encouraged me to stay out of the game!"

Lucien hated to advocate on behalf of those who'd betrayed the family, but far more than that he hated to see his son so hurt. "Maybe because he felt tortured by it all. The game prevented him from being as true a friend as you were."

Leon hung his head in his hands. "Wonderful!" His voice was wavering, but he choked back the tears. "So, what does all this do for me? Now that I know he might not actually be the rotten traitor I hate so much how am I supposed to kill him?"

"Calmly, and with purpose," Lucien said. "What? Has Magnus not told you? A hot-headed soldier on the battlefield is a liability; a danger to himself and others. He forgets everything he's learned and fights with his instincts. Instincts which are often wrong. A soldier needs to keep his temper, remember everything he's learned. You need to do the same. If you go in full of rage you'll make mistakes, and he'll take advantage of them."

Leon threw back his head and groaned. "Won't compassion for my enemy lead me to making just as many mistakes?"

"It could. That's why you still have the option to reconcile." Lucien leaned forward on his cane. "Now, listen, and listen well, son." He pointed a finger at Leon's chest. "No one has to die today. No one. You are the offended party here, so you have the right to offer peace. If it's true that Magnus has never beaten you in fencing, he must be terrified. He may even be praying that you'll forgive him and call off this duel. Answer his prayers, my boy!"

"Why? So you can have him mercifully slaughtered in his sleep?"

Lucien laughed. "No, of course not! What sort of forgiveness would that be? No no no. More than likely Magnus only betrayed you for his father's sake. If Fitzroy eliminates Marquis Forbin then there's no conflict."

"No conflict?" Leon repeated. "Magnus will want revenge!"

"He'll want it, yes. But all his ire will be directed at me, not you."

"How is that any better?"

Lucien sat back in his seat and smirked. "I can handle it. I'm used to people hating me."

The carriage's rear wheel hit a bump in the road. Lucien and Leon both reflexively gripped the arm-rests of their seats in order to avoid hitting the ceiling.

Leon glanced out the window to see how much closer they were to the Imperial Palace. "You don't think he'll try to get to you through me?"

"No. You'll be onto him," said Lucien. "Before this, all he could do was spy on you and report to his father. Now he can't do that anymore because you'll be wise to his game."

Leon sighed. "You've certainly thought of everything, haven't you?"

Lucien shrugged. "It's what I do. By the by, after this is over we have a meeting with other members of my... secret collective."

"What? We? I hardly think I'll exactly... be in an emotional state..."

"After you forgive Magnus and call off the duel?" Lucien chuckled. "Have you already forgotten that's the goal?"

"Right..." Leon paused a moment, running his hands through his hair. "You truly want me to meet with your friends? Even now that you've discovered that my closest friend of so many years was a traitor?"

"Did you tell him about Edmund or the secret collective?"

"No... no I didn't."

Lucien pointed to Leon, a smile across his face. "There you go! You knew to keep that silent even from your best friend! I can imagine there were times when you wanted to talk about it, but you resisted the urge. Just as I knew you would. Once this business between you and Magnus is resolved, you are ready to meet with other members of the collective."

"You keep calling them 'the collective.' Is there an official name for the group?"

"Not really." Lucien curled the ends of his mustache with his fingers. "If we must speak of them in the open, though, we simply call them 'The Pain Street Club.'"

"You include the meeting place in the name?"

"We don't meet on Pain Street!" Lucien chuckled. "There is no Pain Street. Not that I know of, anyway. And if anyone tries to figure out who we are they'll have to get past far more red herrings than that!"

The accent of the distant conversations beside the street all around them had shifted. They were definitely getting closer and closer to the palace, where the richest members of society lived.

Merchant princes who owned thousands of shops, trading companies, caravans, and ships were the only ones who could afford the expensive apartments so near the palace. Even Lucien himself would have had trouble affording such a home. Yet, for these merchant princes such a home was worth every penny. Only those who lived so close to the palace truly had the Empress' ear, and the ability to fill her purse for favors.

If Leon truly thought so ill of the game the aristocrats played he ought to spend time with a merchant prince. Those businessmen were more cut-throat than even the most sinister of noblemen had ever dreamed of being! They dealt in brothels, opium, the Shu slave trade, and stolen goods. They cut their soulless deals with gangs, pirates, bandits, and even foreign barbarians. Many had even made their fortunes selling weapons and supplies to barbarian hordes who then attacked the Empire, only to be crushed at its borders.

Leon attended a few masquerades and thought he knew the ugliness in men's hearts. But Lucien, as often as he prayed, thanked Lyr that he had not been born a merchant, for Leon would surely have given his life to despair a long time ago were he to experience the merchants' game.

The carriage came to a slow stop, and Leon looked out the window. "It seems we've arrived."

Leon was about to disembark, but Lucien grabbed his arm. "Remember what we talked about. Forgive Magnus, publicly. If anyone has come to witness this duel then you'll embarrass Magnus, but people will think all the better of you. If you must have revenge, just think of the shame he'll feel when you hold his life in your hands but allow him to keep it."

Leon nodded. "I will. Thank you."

Both of them disembarked together. Lucien turned his eyes first to the windows of the apartments surrounding that location. Several of them appeared to be empty, which meant that Fitzroy had likely secured them for his agents to oversee what would happen here.

The beggar by the side of the road was almost suspicious in such a rich part of town. Lucien craned his neck to get a better look and recognized the face as another of Fitzroy's people.

Good. If Marquis Forbin intended to cheat Leon would be well-protected.

Confident that all was going according to plan, Lucien turned his eyes to the gates of the Imperial Palace, where he hoped to see his son approaching Magnus with an offer of truce.

But it was not Magnus who met Leon at the gate.