Laponte's Letter

It had been a few months since the day Louis' life was saved from peril. Jacque's wound was healing nicely. She could now fight to her full extent, even use her left arm as well as her right. One of the exercises that Captain Duval gave her to build up the neglected muscles in her arm was a light drill of merely swinging a rapier in circular motions. Soon after that, she was able to thrust and lunge without feeling the strain in her arm. No longer was she frustrated when her fingers could not hold onto the hilt of her rapier.

D'Artagnan was still as arrogant as ever, but their eyes would meet for fleeting moments then they would turn away. Their relationship had changed that night, three months ago. Even Ramon and Siroc noticed slight differences with their friends, but they figured that it was just a comrade's bond that was becoming stronger.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought they were best friends since birth," Ramon said, biting into some bread. He and Siroc watched Jacque and d'Artagnan square off in the training grounds. There were more smiles and respectful taunts than the vengeful and hateful threats they threw at each other when Jacque first joined the musketeers. The sound of scuffling feet and metallic strikes filled the air, but it was a peaceful morning. There was no better day for a quick scrimmage.

"Well, I for one, will enjoy ever second of it," Siroc said sipping some water from a cup. "A brilliant mind cannot think if it is interrupted by childish bickering over things like food or women. I highly enjoy my mornings now."

D'Artagnan tossed his rapier to Siroc while Jacque gave hers to Ramon. "Your turn," she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Siroc and Ramon pushed themselves from the wall they were leaning on, and walked to the training square. Two circled each other for a few second before engaging into a bout. Jacque snickered at d'Artagnan when they were far enough away.

"What?" he said in annoyance. "That was a lucky shot."

"You move your left hand right before you lunge," she said simply.

" I do not!" he shot back. In truth, he knew that more than anyone and had been working on the flaw for quite some time. In the eyes of a common person, they could never tell that his left wrist flinched slightly when he was about to attack. In the eyes of a musketeer, however, he signed his death warrant.

She smiled and laughed, something she had been able to do until lately. When he saw her lips curve and her teeth flash him a dazzling grin, he felt at ease. "I only know that because I've been sparring with you for so long." They shared a quiet moment with one another, but a loud whinny broke it.

A horse snorted and sniffed loudly as it approached just outside the square beyond Siroc and Ramon. They continued their bout, unaware of the newcomer. Their concentration laid with one another, and neither wanted to give the other the upper hand.

"Message for Laponte, from the Americas!" a man shouted, waving a letter in his hands.

Jacque felt her heart stop, and it took all of her will not to run over to the man and rip open the letter right then and there. She calmly walked to the messenger, hands clutched behind her back, and stood tall like a gentleman. "I am Laponte," she said in a low tone. Then she felt the thin parchment between her fingers, and her nerves jumped with joy.

'Gerard,' she thought. It had been over a half year since he left her all alone and set sail for the Americas. Every night she prayed that he arrived there in good health and that he was able to care for himself in the strange land.

She thanked the messenger and turned toward the resting rooms. Her only sanctuary was the room that Duval had given her. When the door closed she broke the seal that kept her brother's words from her eyes.

Dearest Jacqueline,
I have made it to the Americas safely as I am sure you have asked God and father to watch over me. It is a strange world, and not many speak French, but I have found a few friends who were also in hiding from the Cardinal. We have found work, and I managed to save enough to send you a letter that I hope finds you well. Though I am leagues from you, I am here for you. I love you with all of my heart. Stay safe, and do not do anything rash like you always tend to.

Your brother, Gerard.

She clutched the letter to her heart. 'He's alive,' she thought with relief. She slipped the letter into her pocket when she heard someone knocking on her door.

"Jacque?" called d'Artagnan's voice. "Everything all right?"

She opened it, finding herself face to face with the handsome man. "It's Gerard," she said after she looked around the hallways to make sure no one was there. "He's safe and alive."

"Your brother?" d'Artagnan asked. "Well, that's wonderful!"
She could not hold back the girlish giggle that escaped from her lips. From day one, the worry she felt for her brother never eased. She felt the pressure in every waking moment, and at times, she had nightmares of her brother lying dead somewhere never to be seen again. All of it slipped away when she read the few but precious words from her sibling. "All this time, I was so worried for him. Now at least I know that he is well."

D'Artagnan brushed her cheek with his fingers in a light touch, but he halted when Siroc and Ramon rounded the corner. He cleared his throat to get Jacque's attention, "Jacque, we should really be reporting to the captain."

She looked at him puzzled, but she straightened her posture when she heard two pairs of boots behind her. "Yes, you're right. He might have an assignment for us today."

"And that assignment is to help me in my laboratory," Siroc said. "The captain asked that one of you help me for my next invention. The plans that I have in mind require two men, not just one."

D'Artagnan steered clear from Siroc's inventions as best as he could. Ever since the day that his flying contraption had been shot down taking him, Jacque, and Gerard with it, he has been weary of trying anything that Siroc made. Besides, he had no idea how they worked, and what ever he touched that Siroc made it seemed to break. "Ahhh, maybe Jacque will be a better assistant than me. After all, he has a woman's touch."

Jacque glared at him and punched him right in the arm, knocking him into the wall. Ramon and Siroc winced when they saw d'Artagnan almost fly into the stone cold wall. "You had that one coming, my friend," Ramon said, whistling, admiring Jacque's strength.

"Ow!" D'Artagnan groaned, rubbing his shoulder. He could already feel the bruise forming.

"Well, if that was a woman's touch, I would hate to see you if I punched like a man," Jacque said, then stormed off to Siroc's office.

"Well, then you two have fun with patrol duty," Siroc said, completely ignoring d'Artagnan's moans of pain.

Jacque and Siroc had been at work for three hours now, yet they still had no idea what they were creating. "Siroc, don't you have any clue as to what you're building?" she said, eyeing the strange contraption.

"I don't know yet but," he said stepping around his invention, "I know that water should be shooting out from this end due to the pressure that this," he pointed to a lever, "generates." It was connected to another set of tubes and a large tub.

Jacque stepped up on a platform to steady the large tube that protruded from where she was standing. "Stay right there, Jacque," Siroc said. He held his hands out and walked backward looking at the whole scene. "Perhaps... perhaps a body should be there after all."

"Where I am standing?" Jacque asked. "But according to you, there should be water coming from here." She pointed to the tube above her head. "I would get drenched."

"But!" Siroc said, pointing up a finger. "What if you were meant to get wet! Sure, it sounds crazy now, but it's because you are clothed."

"What?" she asked, feeling a blush rise on her cheeks. "Because I am clothed?"

Siroc pulled Jacque away from the platform and made her stand next to him. "Imagine it, Jacque. A convenient way to wash without diving into a body of water. The water will come to you."

"But you will have to build something to hide the body. There still is a law about indecent exposure," Jacque said, imagining that if she tried the new contraption, she would find herself in an embarrassing predicament.

Siroc clapped his hands together. "A shield then! But that will wait till later. We have worked hard today." He patted Jacque on the shoulder. "We should change and report to Duval. I'm sure he'll be ecstatic to hear about this new discovery." He walked across the room to hang up his apron and slip into his musketeer uniform.

Jacque forced a half hearted smile. She had a special place in her heart for Siroc, but this conversation was nothing but awkward. How Siroc imagined her as a naked man, she had no idea, and she did not want to waste another second thinking about it. She heard him in the back, figuring out a name for his invention.

"Hmm... something that has to do with rain... pouring..." he said, his voice muffled by a bookcase. He was snapping his fingers together, trying to form the words in his head.

Jacque pulled her own apron off and sighed slipping her arms into her overcoat. She did not realize that the letter from Gerard had slipped from the pocket.

"Sprinkling..." Siroc continued. "Showering...shower? Shower!" he cried out. His face peered around the bookshelf. "I shall call it a shower!" He shifted his coat to fit his shoulders and stepped out. He gestured for Jacque to leave his office first, and she obliged. "Just a few more trials and I shall have the first shower ever created! Why I may even present it to the king before the end of the week!"

Jacque nodded, relieved to be out of Siroc's little laboratory. "Sounds like a great idea you have going. I'm sure that the king will love it more than your sub-aquatic chamber." They were just outside of Captain Duval's room when Siroc stepped back suddenly. "Ah! My notes! I left them back at the room. Tell Duval the overall idea, Jacque. I'll be right back."

"All right," Jacque said and knocked on Duval's door.

"Come in," said the voice behind the thick wooden door. When Duval saw Jacque emerge in his doorway, his eyes lit up with hope. "So? How did it fare?" he asked.

Siroc looked around his desk for the plans to the shower he was just on the verge of creating. "Plans... notes...drawings," he counted the items that he held in his hands. His eyes fell upon another piece of parchment that was left at the foot of his desk. "Must have fallen from the desk," he picked it up and opened it. His eyes scanned along the first few lines, and his thoughts of the shower were cut off. "Jacqueline? The fugitive?" He knew that the letter was not his own, and the only other person it could have belonged to was ..."Jacque."