Swordsman's Legacy by Alex Archer

Author:Alex Archer [Archer, Alex]
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Science Fiction - Adventure, Fiction - Science Fiction, American Science Fiction And Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Creed, France, General, Fiction - General, Fantasy, Annja (Fictitious character), Adventure, Archaeologists, Fiction, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780373621330
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2008-11-09T18:00:00+00:00

AUGUSTE MAQUET SAT across the room from the man who had given him entry to the writing world by taking his first play in hand and signing his name to the title page, Alexandre Dumas.

They had collaborated on many titles since then, and—so long as he got paid—Auguste was not insulted that his name did not appear on any of the published book covers. He knew Alexandre Dumas was the name the publishers wanted to sell, and the name the reading public wanted to buy.

They were currently halfway through the first in what Alexandre deemed could become a long and multiedition series about three of King Louis XIII’s musketeers, and the young Gascon soldier who won his way into the hearts of them all.

Auguste had done all the field research and spent many a day in the dusty study room of the library taking down notes from legal reports, historical memoirs, and recopying maps and assorted indices and references to events and occasions that would give authenticity to their adventure stories.

Historical figures were utilized copiously; actual history was not.

Neither Auguste nor Alexandre was too concerned that history must be twisted, the dates altered, the occasional anachronistic prop used, in order to scribble out a dashing good read. With the flair of a rapier-armed swashbuckler, Auguste wrote up the initial outline, and then handed it over to Alexandre to flesh out and make wordy—for they were paid by the sentence.

“Interesting about the map, eh?” Auguste tapped his notebook where he had made a perfect copy of the map found in Nicolas Fouquet’s files in the Bibliothèque Nationale. “I wonder if the treasure was ever claimed?”

Alexandre looked up from his writing desk, a rare pause during one of his marathon sessions. Breadcrumbs sifted from his belly onto the blue pages he’d been writing on. “Couldn’t have been claimed by Castelmore—he died indebted.”

“Fouquet?”

“Possible. He may have sent someone after it while he lived out his days in prison. No matter. It cannot be there now. You think to follow that map? When you are sure there is a missing navigational device?”

Auguste shrugged. “If the sword could be found…” He lifted the pen-and-ink drawing of the Val-de-Grâce cathedral. There was something about the cathedral. A connection. “I have an idea where the starting point may be.”

Alexandre wiped away the crumbs and dipped his quill into the ink bottle.

“Send some young men down into the tunnels. Have them clatter about. Myself, I’m quite sure it is long gone. Likely d’Artagnan’s sons found it. It makes the most sense. They had little upon their father’s death, and I suspect Charlotte was rather miserable. But surely she did hand over the sword to her children.”

“But where would they have obtained the navigational device? What was that device?” Auguste asked.

“My friend, are you troubling over a new plot or personal whimsies?”

Auguste sighed. Alexandre wasn’t a slave driver, but he did have a work ethic that would not allow for meandering when one should have his nose to the paper.

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