“Why? You have the chaos you wanted. Think a moment, my lord. Noble blood is spilled on the road to Versailles. Who would follow the Parthenays now? The King will soon tire of his project and move back to Paris. Then we shall own our country again.”

“But until that day,” said Cassel, “I own only my lands. And I shall own you too, murderer. You’ve made your mess. Now clean it!” With that he took a small bag of coins from his coat and hurled them at Montcourt.

Charlotte’s body lay on the floor in Fabien’s office, bound in cloth. Fabien sat at his desk, writing in his ledger as Laurene looked on, her hands folded and fingers fidgeting.

“But,” Laurene said, “if the court were to know she is dead then they could mourn.”

“No. They think she died with them. The family was murdered in the road. Everyone is talking about it.”

“But her body was not found.”

Fabien looked at his assistant. “Three people know this. Me. Laurene. And the man who meant to kill her. He’ll know his shot missed its mark. And he might use that knowledge to make a mistake.”

In the privacy of the room of the War Cabinet, as Bontemps and the other ministers looked on, Colbert unrolled a map on the table to show some progress regarding the nobles, but how those in the north continued to follow Cassel’s lead.

“Who else delays?” demanded Louis.

“Fourteen families in all,” said Colbert. “All wait for assurance for their safety before venturing on the road.”

Louis looked at the map, then at Colbert. His face was tight. “Is there any good news? How are the stables?”

Colbert let out a nervous breath. “Work has ceased, Sire.”

“What now?”

“Traders are reluctant to send supplies. If their goods do not arrive, the traders are not paid.”

“So,” said the King, leaning on the table, “the nobles of the south stay quiet, the east remains cowards, and the north…”

“Without Cassel,” said Colbert, “there will be no more cooperation from the north. He’s a man of great influence in the region.”

“Perception of influence, nothing more.”

“Which is just as dangerous.”

The King lifted his fist. “Secure the road! Why is it we are laying siege to Chambray yet it is we who feel surrounded?”

A guard at the door spoke quietly to Bontemps, who then said, “Fabien is here, Sire.”

Fabien entered the room and Louis stared at him. “You have failed me, Monsieur Fabien. Just as you failed my friends, the Parthenays. Had your patrols been on the road they would have arrived safely. Instead their deaths will send a message to the world that traveling to Versailles is not safe.”

Fabien held the King’s gaze. Bontemps tried to catch Colbert’s eye.

“Your continued presence in this court demands nothing less than absolution,” Louis continued. “You will bring me the men responsible.”