Edward Marston - Drums of War

Daniel looked back at Marlborough in time to see him placing a kiss on Helene du Vivier's hand before she withdrew. After a salvo of farewells, she flitted off into the crowd. Daniel was suspicious. His mind was racing. What was a Parisian actress doing at such a function? If she really was there with her uncle, why had she not left with him to return to a sick aunt? Or why had her Uncle Johannes not remained for the few minutes it would have taken her to meet the evening's honoured guest? The scream had been unusually piercing from someone who'd merely seen someone faint. A gasp of surprise would have been more likely and it would have been muffled by the hubbub. Daniel came swiftly to the conclusion that the scream was a way of diverting attention. He had no idea of the purpose of the distraction until he saw Marlborough raise his wine glass to his lips.

'Your Grace!' yelled Daniel, charging across to him to take him by the elbow. 'I crave a moment with you.'

'Need the request be quite so dramatic?' said Marlborough as he was led aside. 'Is there a problem?'

'I believe that there could be. May I have your glass, please?'

'You surely do not wish to drink my wine?'

'I want to make certain that nobody drinks it, Your Grace.' He took the glass and sniffed it. Daniel pulled a face at the sour smell. "This wine has been poisoned,' he said.

"That's absurd, Daniel. Who could possibly wish to poison it?'

'It was the lady to whom you were speaking.'

'What — Madame du Vivier? She was utterly charming.'

'Her charm was very practised, Your Grace,' said Daniel, 'and her name was not Helene du Vivier. She's an actress from Paris and I believe she was here to assassinate you.'

Johannes Mytens raised a glass of wine to offer a very different toast.

'Let's drink to the death of the Duke of Marlborough!'

The others were quick to join in the celebration. Willem Ketel sucked his teeth, Gaston Loti grinned in triumph and the woman who'd assumed the name of Helene du Vivier congratulated herself on one of her finest performances. In her private life, she was Loti's mistress and the two Dutchmen were very envious of him. The four of them were in Mytens' house, relishing what they believed would be a critical turning point in the war. Even though the Allied army had secured a resounding victory at the battle of Ramillies, the death of their commander-in-chief would sap their determination to continue fighting against the French. Peace negotiations would be inevitable.

'Our decision was wise,' said Loti, complacently. 'Cut off the head and the body lacks any direction. Remove the Duke, as we did this evening, and his army will collapse.'

'The person we have to thank,' said Mytens, 'is my beautiful niece, Helene du Vivier.' The men laughed and raised their glasses to her. 'You were so convincing that I really thought I was your uncle.'

'You were equally convincing,' she told him. 'It was rather amusing to hear you propose a toast to a long and happy life for the Duke when you were actually involved in a plot to kill him.'

'It was one of many nice touches, I feel. Inventing a sick aunt for you was another one. In fact, my wife is in rude health and staying with her sister in Utrecht.'

'I'm relieved to hear it. I was very concerned about her.'

'I know that you share our commitment to peace, my dear,' said Ketel, taking the chance to slip a sly hand around her waist, 'but what you did deserves rich reward.' He offered her a purse. 'This will show you how eternally grateful we are to you.'

'Thank you,' she said, taking the purse.

'When our countries are no longer at war, I'll make a point of visiting Paris in order to see you perform in the theatre.'

'There's been no greater stage than this,' put in Loti. 'How many other actresses have the opportunity to end a wasteful conflict and restore peace to Europe?'

'Someone should write a play about it,' said Mytens. The bell rang at the front door. "That will be the report for which we've been waiting — certain news that the Duke of Marlborough died in agony from poison. Pray, excuse me.'

Setting his glass aside, Mytens went off to greet the messenger in person. It was too important a task to delegate to a servant. When he reached the front door, he drew back the bolts and threw open the door with a flourish, expecting to see the man appointed to bring the glad tidings. Instead he was looking at the drawn sword of Daniel Rawson. Four soldiers were at Daniel's back.

'What's the meaning of this?' demanded Mytens.

'You are under arrest,' said Daniel, pushing past him to enter the house. He went into the parlour and saw the woman. 'I have sad news for you, Madame du Vivier,' he announced. 'His Grace, the Duke of Marlborough, is alive and in good health. The poison you slipped into his wine is being examined by an apothecary. His Grace never touched it.' He looked at the others. 'You are doubtless parties to this conspiracy so I have the pleasure of placing you all under arrest.'

'You mistake us, Captain Rawson,' said the woman, producing her most charming smile. 'We have no reason to wish the Duke dead.'

'In that case,' he said with an answering smile, 'we have no reason to execute you but your execution will nevertheless take place.' He brandished his sword. 'Seize them!'

Mytens was already being held by one of the soldiers. The other three each moved to arrest one of the conspirators. Ketel gibbered wildly as he was grabbed and the woman protested by trying to smack the soldier away. Loti had no intention of being taken. From inside his coat, he pulled out a pistol and cocked it.

The soldier trying to arrest him immediately moved away. The other soldiers also took a cautious step backwards. Only Daniel had the courage to approach him.

'There's no escape,' he told Loti. "The house is surrounded.'

Loti aimed the pistol at him. 'Put your sword aside,' he ordered. When Daniel obeyed, he found the gun jammed against his temple. 'Stand back, all of you,' Loti went on, 'or the captain will have his brains blown out.'

'Do as he says,' advised Daniel.

The soldiers released their captives at once. The woman immediately moved across to Loti's side. She was gloating.

'You don't look quite so pleased with yourself now, Captain Rawson,' she said. 'I should have poisoned your wine as well. Who came to suspect me?'

'I did,' replied Daniel, 'though I had significant help from a young lady named Amalia Janssen. She happened to be in Paris some months ago and saw you appearing in a play. Your performance was memorable, it seems. Because of that, the life of our commander-in-chief was indirectly saved.'

'This is no time for conversation,' said Loti, taking control. 'You are our means of getting out of here, Captain Rawson. As long as we have you at our mercy, nobody will dare to touch us.'

'What about us?' bleated Ketel. 'We can't stay here now.'

'Let us come with you,' said Mytens. 'We're in this together.'

'This gentleman is going nowhere,' said Daniel, turning to face Loti. 'I'm refusing to budge an inch.'

'Would you rather I pull this trigger?' Loti threatened, pressing the barrel against Daniel's forehead. 'Would you rather have your skull blown apart?'

Daniel was calm. 'Yes,' he replied, levelly. 'When you're a soldier, you expect to die at some stage. If my time has come, I'd much rather be dispatched with a merciful bullet than by a more agonising means. Pull the trigger if you must, sir,' he continued, 'but remember this. You can only kill me. As soon as you've done that, these soldiers will hack you to death with their swords. An empty pistol will be no defence against excruciating pain.'

Loti's eyelids fluttered and the corner of his mouth twitched. His confidence was seeping away. Daniel held his gaze defiantly. He could see the doubt, fear and hesitation in the Frenchman's eyes. While Loti was unsure what to do, the woman made a positive decision.