I Am Louis XIV

It was precisely because of such hallucinations that Corneille still tossed and turned at night, unable to fall asleep. He lay on the bed, wondering if it was an illusion, but felt that the linen sheets under his body were getting colder and colder, as if some The eerie cold seeped into him from the ground, he drank honey water, drank wine, to no avail, he was upset, and had to go twice to the toilet - in Paris he can enjoy the flush toilet ( a smelly fashion), but here there are only chamber pots, and chamber pots, no matter how well you scrub them, have a strange smell that lingers on.

He sighed, lay down and sat, finally succumbed to his active nerves, simply chewed a handful of coffee, lit a candle, sat in front of the desk, and began to record today's events. His records on the way with the army can almost be called Diary, there are always so many new things for him to marvel at - when he was concentrating on his work, the old man finally got rid of his inexplicable anxiety. ) until the light of the candle gradually dimmed, Corneille forgot for a moment that it was late at night, and shouted loudly to call the lazy servant to change the candle for him.

The servant did not respond to Corneille. To be precise, there was a dead silence around him. Corneille raised his head, and his heart suddenly tightened as if being caught. He still remembered that there were the king's musketeers next to his room. Although the young men have the characteristics of young people who are easy to fall asleep, they are also quite vigilant because of their occupations. This is what Corneille knew on the third day of living with them. A rude Brussels citizen may be drinking too much. After drinking, he even threw stones at the windows here. He may have thought that even if someone was awakened when the owls were already asleep, they would not be able to run down to settle accounts with him so quickly, but he was wrong, and there were two immediately. Three nearly naked musketeers jumped down, holding sharp swords, and poked him into a funnel, let alone escape, he didn't even have time to turn around.

Maybe it's because the musketeers are out and about? Corneille comforted himself like this, but he also knew that it was impossible. Although these musketeers were romantic and sentimental, they never forgot their duties—just like in Lille, the king and his ministers, entourage and guards occupied an entire space. The place where the king lives is the palace of Charles V (King of Spain) in Brussels. There is a huge square in front of the palace, with the city hall and market on the left, and the court and church on the right. It was used as an armament warehouse and was closely guarded by the army. All the houses from the armament warehouse to the palace were requisitioned, and none of the original residents were allowed to stay here, no matter how prominent they were before—the one who was killed by the musketeers The people they killed were one of them; so were the courts and the church, which now contained only Catholic priests brought by the king from France, and the king, so to speak, could sleep peacefully surrounded by his loyal subjects.

Corneille was terrified, and he suddenly remembered what the two attendants had said about sending the icon of Saint-Denis back to the warehouse—he didn’t dare to continue shouting, it might only be a few minutes, candles It was almost completely extinguished, and if he straightened his arms, the dim light would not even be able to illuminate his fingers... Finally, the only light disappeared, and Corneille stared at the place where the door was, hoping that there would be a hole in the cracks. Able to cast a reassuring glow, but no, nothing.

His eyes gradually got used to the darkness, and the outline of the door could be vaguely seen in the darkness, but at this moment, he heard the faint sound of metal collisions, the old man jumped up from the table, and pressed his palms on the on the candle, but he didn't even feel the pain caused by the scorching, and rushed to the window with joy—it should be the sound of musketeers, daggers and short swords hanging on their belts colliding with each other. Pushing open the window, he bent down and looked down.

He couldn't see anything.

Under the window was a billowing thick fog, he had never seen such a dense fog, it was like a sea of ​​milk, besides, the stones on the street, doors, pillars and window lattices, torches all disappeared, the whole The whole street was like an island floating on the sea, lonely and without a fixed place, Corneille knew that he should close the window immediately, go back to the room, and spend the night trembling—if he could, but he froze. , unable to move at all. At this time, the sound of metal clashing became clearer and louder. It came from the city hall, which was the end of the street.

Corneille was breathing heavily, his abdomen was stuck on the window sill, and his arms were propped on the hasp of the blinds, which was an uncomfortable position.

In his frozen field of vision, a light from small to large flames dispelled the dense fog. Corneille thought it was a torch, but later found out that it was a incense boat, which was cast in the shape of a bird with spread wings. Trembling slightly in the air, spit out crimson fire from the pointed beak, and the hollow body burst out with the scorching light like white phosphorus burning, it was shaking, and a smell of sandalwood and myrrh came to the face, but as if Corneille smelled something different when he was in the church or during the religious procession. Although the smell was sweet, it was not pleasant at all. Instead, it was disgusting. If he had never been with the army, Corneille might not have thought of what this strange impurity was. But now he knew it was the smell of blood and guts.

Behind the swaying incense boat, there are two lovely children, or should be cute children, they are smiling, with the incense boat with adult arms, they carry it effortlessly, their steps are light, and they listen to everything No sound.

Behind them are priests holding icons and crosses. If you say that their attire is really weird, if you say that they are priests, they are more like slaves. As a devout believer and a lawyer, Corneille can easily recognize them It was the most common attire of early priests—during the reign of the Roman emperor, Christian priests often wore black clothes that slaves and lowly people would wear, either because of their humble origins or because of their humble heart. The felt coat, which is the prototype of the current black cassock, compared with the black cassock of the priests, these clothes, or robes without collars, are as simple as a piece of cloth without any decoration, and even the belt is coarse cowhide or Sheepskin, but those radiant faces are much more dazzling than gold and precious stones-the faces on the icons are all distorted, but because the saints always carry themselves with them, they are killed and executed It was very easy to identify the instruments of torture of the time, so Corneille immediately recognized that the priests holding up those icons were the holy martyrs.

These saints, male and female, were all in high spirits, and if they were mortals and living, this passionate scene could be described, but it is a pity that they still retain the traces of suffering, and when they shine elsewhere, The opened skin, open wounds, missing bones and internal organs are all the more amazing.

In such a procession, there must be an officiant, and Corneille almost guessed it—yes, it is Saint-Denis and his two attendants, who are holding their heads with smiles on their faces .

Behind Saint-Denis is a large group of people dressed in rich and different clothes. The only thing they have in common is that they all wear a cross. The injuries they suffered are even more varied. Some of them were beheaded like Saint-Denis. ; some have loose and twisted limbs - it can be seen that they have been punished by the wheel; there are also fine and small wounds all over the body - they are loaded in a wine barrel full of nails and rolled from the top of the mountain to the foot of the mountain; Some with protruding eyes and swollen tongues were hanged; others were bleeding from the corners of their mouths and dripping water, the former were poisoned and the latter were drowned; Anyone who has read history knows that Roman priests and emperors liked to throw Christians into the Colosseum and let wild animals bite them to death.

This kind of team is mighty, the fragrant boats have long since disappeared, and the last few "people" are still dragging along, and Corneille is already at the end of his battle, his arms have long been numb, and he has difficulty breathing. He kept sticking out his tongue, trying to lick the sweat off his cheeks, and some was absorbed by his linen pajamas, but a drop or two eventually made it down.

A female saint raised her head. She had a beautiful appearance and was probably less than twenty years old when she died. For this reason, she received special treatment—her most moving parts were only two bloody depressions, which This penalty still exists in Spain. She raised her head and saw Corneille.

The line stopped.

"There is a devout believer here." Corneille heard a voice say, and then there was a commotion in the crowd, and the saints receded to both sides like the Red Sea parted by Moses. Saint Denis came out with his head in his hands. The voice was bright and clear, as if he was alive, Corneille watched him raise his head towards him, the saint's arm stretched longer and longer, until he was face to face with Corneille.

Seriously, if you don't look at the part below the neck, the saint's face is not terrible at all. Although it is a bit pale, he has regular features and firm eyes, just like any saint one can imagine-as long as he doesn't smile, he's not so terrible. It is not the happy smile of a believer when he is about to be saved, nor is it the happy smile of a shepherd when he sees others being saved. It is an evil, yinxie, malicious smile, like a swamp under a clear lake, bright Shadows in the sun.

"Don't stay here," said the head, "you should stay with us."

Corneille heard the group of people cheering—the cheers were deafening, but the soldiers and musketeers on the street still seemed to be dead, without any reaction, Corneille wondered painfully whether they were really dead , while being dragged down the window—his room is on the second floor, and the distance from the ground is not fatal, but for a sixty-year-old man, he still broke a few bones, and he screamed, But those "people" didn't sympathize with him at all. In the dimness, he was forced to change into clothes, and a weapon was stuffed into his hand.

Corneille was surrounded by the parade and moved forward. Except for him, he saw no one else. The parade slowly gathered in the palace square. Corneille saw Saint-Denis holding his head again. Walking forward, he and several other people were also pushed forward. The gate of the palace opened silently. The soldiers who were supposed to be guarding the side disappeared. They entered the palace unimpeded. Niu went straight to the courtyard where the king was, while his entourage went to the left and right wings. Corneille immediately remembered what he saw in the church, the head of the entourage followed the scene of Viscount Turenne and Captain Vauban. , he also knew that the king trusted the two generals, so they also had their own rooms in the palace.

Corneille was going crazy with anxiety. If the king was killed under the curse, even if there was still the Duke of Orleans in France, it would inevitably fall into irreparable chaos and decline. If they die, then not only will France not be able to win Flanders—even if it wants to seize the existing territory, with only the Prince of Condé and the Duke of Luxembourg, it will not be possible. will become extremely difficult.

Corneille didn't know if his prayer was heard by God, or by any saint. He desperately followed the group of saints pretended by the devil. Every time they passed by, there were crosses, reliquaries and icons. They will all be set on fire——until now, he finally saw clearly that the crosses on those Christians are all reversed crosses. The reversed cross has two meanings in the crowd. One is that St. Peter was sentenced to be crucified on the cross when he was martyred. But he said, I am not worthy of the same punishment as my Lord, so he was nailed to an upside-down cross. The Roman Church sometimes uses an upside-down cross to represent St. Peter, the Pope; Directly, those who embrace Satan and forsake the Savior are declaring that "there is no salvation", which is a sign of evil, but these so-called martyrs, who died even before St. Peter, they wear the reverse cross, only It can be said that...they are all out-and-out hell thugs.

But in front of them, in front of the head of Saint-Denis, there was no door that could not be opened or made a sound, and the loyal guards were even more invisible. They even walked to the king's bedroom in this way, where There are a few musketeers who, according to tradition, guard outside the king's bedroom, but they also seem to be caught in a nightmare from which they cannot wake up.

Corneille struggled frantically, and when he found that he could speak, he let out a loud cry with a trembling voice.

———————

Bosch looked at the drawing board, Saint-Denis and his followers on the drawing board, their heads were still resting on his shoulders, he picked up a cursed dagger, and lightly drew a knife on the necks of the three people , There was a gap immediately, blood flowed out from it, and the saint's head began to slowly tilt to one side.

He put down the dagger in his hand with satisfaction, and glanced at Rubens beside him. Among his students, Rubens was not the one he liked the most. When he was a student, he didn't know that this person was the notorious black wizard he knew. When he knew, his life, reputation, and even his parents, wife and children had been controlled by Bosch. He resisted and had to obey. He didn't know why Bosch asked him to cooperate with this triptych at the beginning, but now he knows-Bosch's curse is famous all over the world, but it also has a disadvantage, that is, his paintings are full of dirty The sharp breath is easy to be noticed by people, especially the priests of the tribunal—so he summoned Rubens, and Rubens' efforts to slow down Bosch's curse became the best disguise, so that Bosch's The curse managed to enter the church, enter the icon, and come to the king.

Needless to say how remorseful Rubens was, Bosch touched his disciple's face with a smile - Rubens showed a disgusted expression and took a step back. "Come on," said Bosch, "son, since the mistake has already been made, it's no use regretting it—" He paused: "But you're always like this, hesitant, indecisive, and that's an advantage, of course, For me."

Seeing Rubens' painful expression, Bosch's mood became more and more joyful. He liked this. Compared with hurting other people's bodies, it is obviously more pleasurable to hurt someone's soul, especially Rubens—— And he was right, Rubens was a naive but definitely not stupid child. He discovered that Bosch was a wizard after a few years of studying under Bosch, but the feelings he got along with for several years kept him silent. Then Bosch told him that when he was also a wizard, he was confused by another world and talent (wizards see things absolutely different from ordinary people), and didn't tell his parents, but when Bosch finally revealed his true Purpose——As a dark wizard, he needed a slave more than a disciple, and at that time, in order to avenge the church and judges who persecuted them, Rubens took another critical wrong step, which made him step into up the swamp.

Later, although he was valued and trusted by the Duke of Mantua in Italy, he gained a great reputation in Italy, and even went to Spain as an envoy, and later returned to Flanders to serve the Grand Duke Alberto and his wife. He became an envoy of Spain, managed to make Spain reach an alliance with England, and was knighted by Charles I, but the shadow of Bosch still loomed over his heart like a winter cloud and never dissipated.

Mortal death was the last and last revolt Rubens made—and he suddenly and sadly realized that perhaps to Bosch he would always be that innocent child, an open book, Bosch used him like a tool, including his resistance, and he didn't even have the power to fight back.

Bosch shook his head. This student of his doesn't know when he will know. What charm, words, and power are of course very important in the mortal world. They are chips that can control the situation, but in the inner world, the most important thing is , and the only thing that can play a role, only power.

Even the king, whose curse once killed Louis XIII, and his son, how can the crown of the mortal world compare with the staff in the hands of the wizard?

—————

Almost at the same time as Corneille's yell, there was the sound of a sharp sword tearing the curtain. It tore the heavy gold embroidered bed curtain and then went straight down, slashing at the person in the bed.