Tannhauser 02: The Twelve Children of Paris Read Online Free PDF Page B

letter and stowed it away.
    Admiral Coligny, the Huguenot demagogue, shot but not dead.
    A fourth war in the offing; if not in progress.
    The Louvre doubtless a swamp of frantic intrigues.
    Carla was over eight months pregnant.
    And he didn’t know where to find her.
    ‘Come, Grégoire. The day is far from done.’

CHAPTER TWO
     

A Very Great Philosopher Indeed
     
    TANNHAUSER RETURNED TO the Collège d’Harcourt. It was deserted. They left and crossed the Pont Saint-Michel to the City, past shops selling gimcracks and tawdry apparel, and Tannhauser decided to buy Carla some token of affection. Carla was not an acquisitive woman; her habits and tastes were more austere than his own, yet for this very reason he was puzzled that his gifts always brought her such delight.
    ‘Grégoire, where would I find fashionable goods, fit for a lady?
    Grégoire garbled. The boy had a tendency to speak through his nose, interspersed with the growls and grunts he seemed to require to get any words out.
    ‘Speak slowly so you shan’t appear an idiot. I can’t keep asking you to repeat yourself, so I shall do this –’ he wagged a hand at his ear ‘– to tell you I don’t understand.’
    ‘I’m sorry, master. No one listens to me except the horses.’
    ‘In this respect, at least, I’m a horse’s equal. What did you say?’
    Grégoire pointed to the façade. ‘The Grand Hall in the
Palais de Justice.
’
    In the Grand Hall hundreds of stalls sold velvets, silks and linens; decks of cards for playing tarot; jewellery, feathers, buttons, hats, elegant clothes. As Tannhauser wandered the market the burden of selecting a gift for Carla descended upon his spirits. The silks on display were superb. When first they’d met Carla had captured his eye, and more, by wearing Neapolitan silk. Red and diaphanous. The memory of her nipples haunted him yet. Such fabrics appealed to his own appetites but were hardly apt for a woman advanced in pregnancy. Or were they? Might the thought not flatter her? It was the sentiment that counted; but which sentiment? He caught sight of a baby’s christening robe in white silk. He scrutinised the seams and invisible threadwork. Carla would adore it.
    ‘How much for this baby’s smock?’
    ‘Sire, this is not a “smock” but, rather, a christening gown, and one that – for a garment in which to receive the most sacred of the Sacraments – would be fit to clothe a princess or a prince.’
    The merchant launched into a paean to the gown’s Italian weave, its artful lace fillings and the cloth-of-silver embellishments to its collar.
    ‘They ship these from Venice by the bale, so spare me the performance.’
    The draper named his price. Tannhauser laughed at him.
    ‘Make me a fair bargain and you’ll go home with some silver in your pocket. It will likely be the last you’ll earn in a good while.’
    ‘Why should that be, sire?’
    ‘Why? The Huguenot rebellion. You haven’t heard?’
    ‘Is it true? The Huguenots intend to cut the King’s throat and pillage the city?’
    ‘I am at this moment on my way to the Louvre. If I were you I’d load this stock on a mule and head south. These fanatics despise finery and bright colours, as you well know. The only use they’ll have for these silks is stringing up our priests, and perhaps us, too.’
    The draper surveyed his merchandise in agony.
    ‘I wasn’t going to open my stall today but we were ordered to do so by the Bureau de Ville. “To maintain a semblance of normality.” I ask you. Why can’t they maintain such a semblance? The country is run by maniacs and thieves.’
    ‘Does that pass for news in Paris?’
    ‘To the Louvre, you say.’
    ‘I’ve already said too much. But keep it to yourself or we’ll see a panic.’
    The draper glanced at his fellows who crammed the hall. He nodded.
    ‘Now,’ said Tannhauser. ‘Do you want to sell the smock or not?’
    The bargain was so favourable that Tannhauser headed down the hall and