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Henri Potère, Saviour of New France by Anne-Marie
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Henri Potère, Saviour of New France

Anne-Marie

Chapter Six: Hermioniah Tient Une Idée (Hermione has an idea)

Hermioniah and Ronald were bickering again. Since they had come together, they'd spent every morning bickering. It seemed to be the way they responded to stress, relieving their feelings by shouting at each other. Henri wished they would stop. He was beginning to get a head-ache.

"Ronald, apologize for calling Hermioniah an ignorant savage," he said, after he judged things had gone too far.

"She called me an idiot pale-face."

"I am trying to think," said Henri in strained tones. "You're not helping."

"Sorry," the two said in unison.

"Five soul-pieces," continued Henri. "And no clue where they are."

Hermioniah shook her head. "Let's think about this logically. You said yourself that Vol de Mort has put them in significant places. What is significant to him? That's where we need to begin."

Henri nodded. "The locket was significant to him. It belonged to Charlemagne, the great king of the Franks and Vol de Mort's ancestor."

"Le sieur sans un nom is descended from Charlemagne?" broke in Ronald. "Mon dieu!"

"On his mother's side," said Henri. "His mother was of an old, though impoverished, family. She ran off with an Iroquois warrior, to the horror of the colony."

"Why?" asked Hermioniah, a sardonic smile on her lips. "Are our men that horrible?"

"It's just not done," answered Ronald. "It's acceptable for a Frenchman to take an Indian wife, but a Frenchwoman degrading herself to the level of their squaws, it's not done."

"I see. Your women exist on a higher level than I do," snapped Hermioniah.

Ronald's face was bright red. "That's not what I meant! I merely meant that this isn't a fit life for any woman. You're too smart to be wasted here either, Hermioniah."

"I like to think that I'm not entirely wasted," she replied dryly. She turned to Henri. "We must begin with that locket then. Are you certain you can't think of a person with the initials R.A.N?"

Henri nodded dully. "No one comes to mind, no matter how much I try. R.A.N. was an enemy of Vol de Mort, obviously, but also someone who had once followed him, I think."

"Perhaps Snape's real name is R.A.N. and he switched sides back then and wrote that note. Then he switched sides again and helped Vol de Mort," suggested Ronald.

"That's a silly idea," said Hermioniah bluntly. "If Snape switched sides again, he'd have got rid of the note, wouldn't he have?"

"It's better than nothing," said Ronald. "I don't know. Maybe Narcisse de Malfoy put it there. R.A.N. would mean 'something something Narcisse."

"That's worst than your last idea, Ronald," commented Henri.

"Who is Narcisse?" asked Hermioniah.

"She's one of Vol de Mort's followers," Henri explained. "Her whole family were part of his conspiracy, except for her sister Andromède and my godfather Cyrille de Nigelle."

"Nigelle?" said Hermioniah. "That begins with an 'N'."

Henri's heart skipped a beat. "You're right…. Cyrille's brother. Sacré bleu, I am in the wrong place!"

"What?" asked Ronald.

"R.A.N. is Regnier de Nigelle. I bet you anything his middle name began with an 'A'. And the locket… the place to search for it is in the Nigelle house, back in Quebec city." Henri's face was suffused with excitement.

"We came all the way out here for nothing?" said Ronald.

"You met me," said Hermioniah. "And I was the one who solved the riddle for you."

"Hermioniah, I owe you so much," said Henri, leaping to his feet. "How can I ever repay you?"

"You could take me along on your quest," said Hermioniah. "I want to go with you and see these soul-pieces destroyed. Don't worry. My parents will be all right without me. They are honoured people in this village. I have no duty here. No husband or children to tend for. I am free to swear myself as your companion on this journey."

"It'll be dangerous," objected Henri.

"I can use the bow or the knife with skill. I can paddle the wildest rivers. I know the secret paths of the woods. I speak the languages of these lands. I can track a man who's passed through the bush hours before me. I don't like to brag, Henri, but I think I know how to protect myself."

"Do take her," put in Ronald. "She can help protect us."

Henri smiled. "Hermioniah, will you do us the honour of accompanying us on our mission to defeat Vol de Mort?"

"Gladly. I shall not leave your side while you still need me, Henri."

Her eyes were shining, and she… Ginevre, he reminded himself fiercely. You're to marry Ginevre. Hermioniah is off limits to you, even if she was attracted to you, which she isn't. She's still in love with her dead warrior.

"Merci, Hermioniah," he said aloud.

A few minutes later, Hermioniah had excused herself to go break the news to her parents. Ronald stared after her wistfully.

"Henri," he said, after a while. "I think I'm in love with that woman."

Henri's throat tightened. He tried to speak, but couldn't find his voice.

"Henri, are you listening? I said that I'm falling in love with Hermioniah."

"That's… that's a bad idea," Henri croaked.

"Pourquoi?"

"Because she's sworn never to love again. Besides, what about Lunette?"

"Lunette is a Huguenot. It'd never work out."

"Hermioniah is a pagan, Ronald! That's a good deal further away than a Huguenot."

Ronald shook his head. "She can be baptized, Henri. Just as your mother was. I've been talking to Hermioniah and what she tells me of her people's beliefs, they're not very different than ours, really. I mean, well, they are, but you can see similarities. She was very interested when I told her about the Faith."

"Even if Hermioniah were to become a Christian, she still wouldn't fall in love with you, Ronald," said Henri. "You're being an idiot."

"Henri, you have Ginevre. Allow me a little romance."

Ginevre. Right, he must think about Ginevre. Ronald's doomed infatuation with Hermioniah was not his problem. "I'm sorry, Ronald," he said.

"I know you're cranky away from her."

"Away from whom? Oh, Ginevre. Yes. I'll be seeing her soon again, though, now we're turning back."

"Perhaps you can marry her as soon as we're home," suggested Ronald. "I know you don't want to leave her a widow, Henri, but would that be worse for her than never to have had you at all? Why don't you seize the day and enjoy whatever time you can together?"

A week ago, Henri would have found this argument persuasive. Now, he felt a duty to agree, but his heart wasn't in it. "I'll ask your father about it," he replied to Ronald. "Now I need to be alone. To think."

He thought mostly of Hermioniah as he walked along the lonely shore of the river. She must never know of his feelings for her. It would only upset her to have disturbed a friend's life so. Ginevre must not know either. She didn't deserve the anguish of knowing her beloved husband loved another. In time he would forget Hermioniah and marriage and children would teach him a passionate love for Ginevre.

End Notes:

And meanwhile, Ginevre is not exactly being the faithful fiancée at home. But that's next chapter.