The ritual then went well: our saint is expecting twins, - said Bertrand, sitting in a stone room by the hearth, shaking his leg in a white stocking.Agree. But why did she have to cut her arms and legs? Katherine asked grumpily. Standing aside at the stone table, she was crushing some herbs in a mortar. She wouldn't run away from us anyway.The cripple doesn't need guards. And our golems don't last long, you know. Well, relatives in the form of guards are like launching a rooster into a chicken coop, - Bertrand burst out laughing. The first months are fine. And then? Suddenly, with their agility, they harmed the child?Quickly. You will say too.Yes, dear cousin. With the mind, God began to deprive our relatives, but he measures lust in tubs. He laughed again. - Nothing. Children will be born, we will perform one more ritual.If she doesn't die during childbirth.And this is your business, - Bertrand said, suddenly becoming serious. He left the stone room and ascended throug
A few minutes later the door opened, letting in a young man of about twenty-seven with delicate features of a handsome face, dark hair and black shining eyes. Above narrow lips, set off by flawless white teeth, a dark string of mustaches. He stopped on the threshold, looking at the consul, who was leaning against the fireplace. With the toe of his boot, he tried to move a log half burned down in the evening. Raising his eyes, the consul looked at the newcomer. Then, folding his arms over his chest, he slowly approached him.You called yourself Flatilar. What is your real name? He did not take his eyes off the young man's face. Even at a distance, it was noticeable that the consul was inferior to him in stature.My name won't tell you anything. - The voice of the newcomer was soft, soothing. “I am from an old baronial family. But I didn't come here to tell the story of my family. I wanted to offer you a deal.Here's how? The Consul went to the table and picked up the papers. “
The young man looked from the captain to Bertrand.I only said what I heard from the consul. Despite his youth, his eyes shone with the mind of a mature person. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. Lieutenant Corte and Lieutenant Villandre, at your service. He nodded, clicking his heels. His friend in the background did the same. Michele looked at the young people carefully. Forgetfulness about his own idea seemed unmilitary to him. “Who then are these youths? he thought. - Young former aristocrats who crawled into the regiment in order to have weight with those around them? No, aristocrats don't have money, especially now. Sons of the new aristocracy? May be. Former shopkeepers and grooms who became ministers always had money. And how do I know their names? Corte and Villandre – interesting.” Bertrand, hearing their names, also looked at them attentively. But their faces were expressionless.If you want to be present while I get what I promised the First Consul, pleas
Even at the entrance to the city, Michele noticed that his companion fell into some kind of strange stupor. He cast sidelong glances at the estranged Bertrand several times, but said nothing. It just frowned more and more. Bertrand, on the other hand, fell into a state that his father taught and which his mother, who was also his aunt, helped to develop. Living in Spain, they passed on to him much of the knowledge of their family. And when he spoke about his ancestor, who learned the secrets of the Egyptian priests, he did not lie at all in this. The ability of the Hindus to pretend to be dead and later resurrect themselves, the ability of the Egyptian priests to control the minds of others and force them to act in their own way, all this was more or less accessible to the Go and Mui clan. It was with the help of this gift that Bertrand hoped to mentally find Villardet and instill in him the same about Corta that he had inspired Michel. Michele, watching him, he didn't like him
After examining Villardet, the doctor turned to Michele.I can’t say for sure, but this person most likely has a rupture of the vessels of the head. Metropolitan doctors would call it a stroke. But what could have affected his head so much, I find it difficult to say.So his death was due to natural causes? Michele stated.I can’t say for sure, but I don’t find any traces of the murder, - Aesculapius again folded his hands on his stomachI don’t dare to detain you any longer, - Michele nodded to the doctor, and he headed for the door.Dear, - Michele turned to the owner, who followed them like a shadow from room to room. “Do you have a clean sheet and a cold room?” I must return to Paris. What is urgent. If these two were okay, we would leave tomorrow morning. But now I must leave them to you. The owner frowned.I will add more, although I am not obliged to do so, - Michele stepped closer and lowered his voice. “That I am Captain Michele, orderly of the First Consul. Her
So, - said Bertrand, pouring himself a full glass of water. - You still opened our respected host incognito?His basement will be very useful to Willarda while I return here with the hearse,” Michele grumbled, biting into the fragrant roast.With a hearse? Bertrand pushed the glass he was about to drink from his lips. Is Willard dead?Yes. The local doctor said that he had a rupture of some vessels in his head. Bertrand raised the glass to his lips again. A shadow passed over his face, but there was still surprise in his eyes.Strange,” he finally said, pushing the empty glass away. “It always seemed to me that healthy young people are being recruited into the army.In the insides, and especially in the head, it is quite difficult, you know, to penetrate, - Michele looked up from the plate. The mocking look of cold eyes angered him.Good, good, - Bertrand raised both hands with a smile in a conciliatory gesture. – I am a non-military, I don’t know how the recruitment takes pl
History has not preserved the name of Jean Michele. For the simple reason that he was neither a famous military leader, nor a political figure, nor a famous writer or actor. And since he was the personal orderly of the First Consul, the memory of him remained in the personal records of Napoleon Bonaparte, who regretted that his faithful friend and assistant disappeared without a trace upon his arrival in Paris. Describing rumors that he had died in an inn, Napoleon sadly rejected this, because, knowing his executive orderly well, he could not believe that something other than an illness could lead him to a hotel, and not send him immediately with a report to him. Bertrand, who presented himself, handed over to the First Consul what he had gone for. The vicissitudes of the Spear of Destiny are also notable. History knows several tips that claim this name. It is not known whether the consul believed Bertrand, but historians describe a curious case of Napoleon's pursuit of the s
A young man of slim build looked thoughtfully at the ghostly crescent of the moon, barely visible in the blue evening sky. His white face harmonized pleasantly with the white clouds drifting slowly past his window.It is, of course, good that you decided to celebrate the Boss's birthday, - he said without turning around. But I don't see much point in it.Won't you come with us? – the pale young man even got up from the chair in which he had been sitting before.No Justine. I don't want to waste time on this. You can manage without me. By the way, have you already chosen a victim?Yes, Bertrand, said another pale young man. Unlike the one they called Justine, he looked older and sterner. “He is a young man, an aspiring scientist. Or rather, he thinks so. Obsessed with English folklore. On this we caught him: we promised to show the wedding ceremony of one of the tribes of England that have sunk into oblivion, whose descendants we “accidentally” stumbled upon.A wedding, the young ma