I know, I know. Sorry for the late update. I promise that I shall be regular. I will end this fic, hopefully before the year ends itself.
For Jacques Charmolue, inspecting the shoddy inn only raised more questions than answers. The situation was becoming increasingly odd. All clues emerged from his investigation so far ratified to the appearance of a goblin-like fiend on the night of March 29th. According to the innkeeper who managed the place, the suspect had accompanied Captain Phoebus to his room, and seemingly vanished. There had been no appearance of him since.
However, it was a slight comfort that in spite of his blameworthy contribution in the wrongful trial of La Esmeralda, his conclusion of the devil's involvement was, in probability, still true. There was no other possible explanation. No ordinary human was capable of doing what the perpetrator of this case had done. Following and intimidating the Egyptian for months, then bribing Captain Phoebus and assaulting him when he was with the gypsy. The innkeeper even said that the coins she had been given in exchange of the room had transformed into a leaf the next morning. Charmolue's assessment was a crazed voyeuristic demon attempting murder out of envy.
'Think harder. Do you not even remember his voice or build?'
The innkeeper grimaced, tired of repeating the same thing. 'He didn't speak. There is only so much one can make out from a cloaked man. You can't expect an old lady to be a great observer, can you?'
Charmolue narrowed his eyes. The hag was insolent at best. 'I am the King's proctor, madame. It shall do you well to remember that. Wasn't it you who first testified against the Egyptian? You can be taken in custody on grounds of detracting the court.'
Immediately her hands raised in defence. 'I apologize, Mr Proctor! Have pity on this poor dame. But it puzzles me, what makes you so concerned? Hasn't the gypsy sorceress been convicted already?'
'Don't bother with it. Just tell me; is there anything you can say about the gentleman who accompanied Captain Phoebus on that night?'
'No,' she said doubtlessly.
'Very well. If you recall anything, do tell me.' The proctor put on his hat before setting off for the door. He had his hand on the door's handle when she called out. 'Wait. I did see that his cloak was black.'
Charmolue lazily looked at her. 'Most gentlemen's cloaks are black.'
'No, it was a really lustrous black,' she carried on. 'It appeared smooth too. Velvet, perhaps. How many do you think can afford velvet in Paris?'
'Are you sure it was velvet?'
'I am sure that it was well-made. Your criminal may be from the upper-class, monsieur.'
His face hardened. 'That is a senseless assumption to make. If he were so, why would he take all this trouble, and not simply go to a prostitute?'
The innkeeper rubbed her chin with her palm. 'Maybe...he is in a position where he cannot satisfy his urges.'
'Do you care to elaborate?'
Her coarse voice dropped to a muted tone. 'Innumerable men and women of come to this petit chalet. Some poor, and some rich. You know those men who are praised to the skies for their abstinence? I've seen them come here too. Priests come here, Mr Proctor.'
He looked at the old woman with calculating eyes. 'Do you mean to accuse a clergyman of- '
'You misunderstand me, sir!' she interrupted him. 'Who am I to accuse anyone of anything? I merely suggest you to look into those as well who you do not look for when searching a murderous deviant. If he took so much care to conceal his identity, maybe he is recognizable.'
What the spinster was suggesting was blasphemous. But then, his idol, Minister Frollo often lamented the deteriorating state of society. Had it stooped so low that a high-born could partake in such abominable acts? Never before in his career had the proctor found himself this perplexed.
An abrupt sound of the ringing bells came to suspend this scene. 'Oh my, it is noon!' announced Charmolue, looking at Notre-Dame. 'I need to leave. I may come again to seek your assistance, madame.'
The innkeeper didn't say that she would prefer him not returning at all.
--
It turned out that the duke was already in a meeting. Charmolue was led by one of the guards to another room and instructed to wait until he was called. Not that the wood of the door was serving as a good barrier.
'This is a ridiculous condition,' Maximilian Habsburg's voice rung. 'Margaret is but two years old. How can I grant her to the French court now? Good brother, we may have been enemies, but we are family. Understand.'
'If you consider me family, then you shouldn't be afraid,' replied King Louis. 'Your behavior hasn't been consistent, Maximilian. If your daughter stays here, we can be assured that you will not betray us. Take it as a collateral.'
Charmolue stretched his arms and yawned, his eyes dampening from boredom. Seated in the same room, the Minister of Justice silently stared a decoration on the wall in front of them. Occasionally he stopped to clean sweat from his face.
He had been waiting for even longer- Charmolue couldn't recall a time when Frollo had been late. His idol's dedication and discipline were striking. Even being a torturer, there were times when he doubted his actions. But Claude Frollo, he knew, never broke off. In Charmolue's view, even if Frollo ever did the devil's work, he would not stop till it was done.
'Monseigneur, I have a question. It is related to philosophy, but it may be scandalous.'
The intellectual gestured him to go on.
The proctor leaned forward. 'What is your view on a publicly chaste man who is lecherous in private?'
Frollo stopped rubbing his temple and stayed still for some time. 'What makes you think that?' he asked curtly.
'It is a part of an investigation. Don't ask me the case.'
Frollo looked at him grimly, evidently not amused. 'I will answer you if you answer me.'
'Alright,' he gave in. 'She told the court that a goblin monk was responsible for stabbing of the captain. At the time I thought it was rubbish.'
The minister's cheeks flooded with color. 'So you won't pay heed to me.'
Indeed, he did not. 'I went to the inn where the whole thing happened. Everyone who saw the captain saw a tall, cloaked man with him. The innkeeper said that he was likely affluent. But when I questioned her on how a well-to-do man could do such a deed, she said something that made me think.'
With the proud air of a person who knows the effect of what he is about to say will bring, Charmolue continued, 'She said that- '
'He is a celibate.'
The proctor turned at him in surprise. 'Why, yes! Since you were a staunch abstinent, I thought that you would be the most apt to answer on how a celibate may set aside all his virtue and venture in a wanton territory. Is it determined by fate as well?'
Frollo's mouth tightened; his blue eyes looking strangely incandescent. Charmolue's smile begun to subside. He hadn't expected this reaction. This was not the first time he had asked the judge something off the limit. Claude Frollo was not like others. He was unruffled at the most random questions. If this had taken him aback, it was clearly a misstep. 'I am sorry. It was inappropriate of me to ask.'
To save his face, a guard came in to announce that the duke had called them in. Without looking at Charmolue, the minister got up from his chair. The door opened for them.
King Louis put his arm around Frollo. 'Claude, my man! You must have heard that me and Maximilian are about to settle on a peace agreement in Arras.' He nodded.
'Well,' the monarch said looking at the duke, 'I was just telling him how crucial this treaty is for Burgundy and he himself. I would love for you to elucidate to our guest.'
Deciding to make his presence known, Charmolue came towards them. 'What me and Monseigneur Frollo were thinking upon, your grace, was that we should accompany you to Arras. If you have no complains with it, of course.'
The King looked absent-mindedly at him. 'Oh! Certainly. Claude, you must witness the signing. And... put the Duke of Austria's mind at ease.'
Charmolue beamed at Frollo to find him looking in a corner of the room. 'Monseigneur?'
At this he turned his face to the proctor, blank for some seconds before processing the question. 'A discussion period before the signing?'
'Arras is a delicate place, your honor. Surely, you know of the manner in which your highness expelled its residents and replaced them with French subjects? They have anger for France,' said Maximilian, casting Louis a confrontational glance.
The monarch chortled at this glare. 'You see why I said that you are needed?' He patted Frollo's shoulder, catching him off-guard. 'Tell your staff to get ready for a week-long journey. I know that you are not very fond of such things, but it's not just the signing; there shall be a celebration. Our children are getting betrothed, after all. We will return to Paris as heroes. And we shall even have a Dauphine to give the people!'
Frollo gave the smiles and nods that people generally give when only half-hearing the other person's words. His mind was elsewhere.
On a wall of the room, hung a painting with a charming woman in red and purple, flowing clothing. Seated on a horrific beast with snake as its heads. Beside her were a group of men, powerful and weak, young and old, all kneeling in front of her, their power turned to ash in face of this temptress's flaming beauty. The whore of Babylon.
He tried to push the thoughts back, but they kept returning, each time more vivid than before. He couldn't help but think of his own temptress, confined to his home, possibly still quaking from his fervour.
"The waters which you see, where she sits are peoples, and multitudes, and nations, and tongues.And the woman is that great city, which reigns over the kings of the earth." He had just asserted his dominance on her. Still it was futile, for she had not let go of her greatest weapon on him. He had to have her around him. The lava rushing through his veins was ample to get a bloodletting. Thankfully his robe was thick and roomy.
'Monseigneur!' shouted Jacques Charmolue.
He blinked, rubbing his eyes. 'I apologize, I don't think I had adequate sleep.'
'Don't you think that my being at the signing will benefit everyone?'
He opened his mouth a bit in realization. 'Oh, yes. Jacques and I are partners- '
'He is right; a judge is incomplete without a torturer,' Charmolue told the King. I promise that I will dutifully assist the minister.'
'Fine,' said King Louis. 'It doesn't concern me much either way. We shall leave at half-past eight tomorrow morning, gentlemen. Do not be late.'