Memory of Flames by Isabel Reid (Translator) Armand Cabasson Page A

least that’s the way I take it - it’s easier to bear like that. But I am not interested in raising the stakes, and I must make clear to you that I refuse to play the game you propose.’ ‘Our two powerful friends will not accept that. If you refuse, they will put the police onto you. And they’ve already told me they’ll feed me to the Cossacks ...’
    Varencourt was furious. But he continued to act like a chessboard king, proud and immobile as the opposing queen slipped forward to checkmate him.
    ‘Right. I understand. But it will be very expensive,’ he warned. ‘I’m listening. What’s your plan?’
    ‘I’ve looked through some of the information you’ve provided, although only very quickly, and I see that another idea of the Swords of the King is to stir up the Parisians to support them, or at least to incite them not to take up arms if Paris is threatened. I suppose those cockades sporting your emblem are meant to act as a sign of recognition among your soldiers. But how do you plan to reach thousands of people? And how can you do that without the risk of being shot? You’ll have to have bulletins and posters, but all the printing presses are under surveillance. That’s how I can make myself indispensable. You can pass me off as a printer! I print
    theatre programmes, and posters for shows. Officially that’s how I earn my living. But actually I’m only interested in printing because I’ve always had the idea of supporting the royalist cause using the most effective weapon in the world: words!’
    That’s too perfect to be true ...’
    That’s why it will work! Because it’s so perfect your friends will want to believe it!’
    ‘You really should play cards.’
    ‘I do have some notion of the printing profession. I’ve always dreamt of launching a newspaper ... a real one,’ he added, casting a rueful glance at the papers he had put on the table. ‘How does admission to the heart of this group work?’
    ‘Good question! That depends if they trust you or not. They will ask you questions: “Why do you want to join us?” “Who can vouch for you?” When I joined, they made me wait for two months while they investigated me. The investigation was satisfactory so my admission was only a formality. But the risk with trying to rush things is that they will be more suspicious.’ ‘Stop trying to make me change my mind; you won’t succeed. You’re the one who’s going to recommend me. When someone wants to join, they must ask the person who is to nominate them questions about the group — who else is a member? What action has been taken?’
    ‘We’re not allowed to say anything, except that we’re a royalist group who advocates action! We are the Swords of the King. Our leader is very strict about it: we’re not to say anything else. Because if we had revealed more than that to those trying to join us, our group would have been crushed long ago. The imperial police are   very   efficient.’
    ‘Are there any other ways you want to put me off?’
    Varencourt shook his head. He wore a strange expression, halfway between anger and interest. He seemed to consider their situation like a roll of the dice from which he could either gain an enormous amount or lose everything.
    ‘Our fates are linked but I know nothing about you, Monsieur Langes. Are you a policeman? No, you don’t look like one.
    Policemen love order and discipline, which is not generally what journalists want. Are you a soldier?’
    These days, everyone is a soldier.’
    ‘Are you an officer?’
    ‘Ah ... you’ll have to find out.’
    ‘At least tell me your real Christian name.’
    ‘Quentin. Quentin de Langes.’
    ‘You still don’t trust me and yet your life depends now on my talents as a liar.’
    Margont was nervous. ‘And vice versa, Charles. Concentrate on convincing the Swords of the King to agree to meet me.’
    He nodded towards the copy of   Le Journal de Paris.   ‘Keep it. I’ve hidden the address