Pierre begins to read the diary, but far from being a relaxing read, to his horror the names Fenalik and Sedefkar appear prominently in the diary entries…
We are taken to June 1794.
A two-wheeled cart with high wooden sides rumbles through the streets of Paris, drawn by a tired horse. Men and women stand in the back of the cart, some downcast, some weeping. One man holds his head high. His back is to us. We cannot see his face. The cart passes along a street lined with crowds. They jeer at the occupants of the cart, laughing and making gestures by drawing their fingers sharply across their necks. But not everyone mocks the cart. The cart continues. Soldiers clear the way and keep the crowd at bay. Finally, the cart rolls into a large square. In its centre stands the guillotine. The crowds throng around it.
The cart reaches the base of the guillotine. The man steps out first, his head held high. He ascends the steps of the guillotine. The executioner steps forwards to push him down, but the man kneels of his own volition. The blade is poised, a shining length of bright sharp steel. The light glints off a small pattern on the blade, a concentric circle. The crowd holds its collective breath.
Time stands still for an instant, and then the blade falls…
We are now taken back to June 2, 1789
Paris is in the midst of an economic depression, 2 kings ago Louis XIV essentially spent all of Frances money, he backed the Americans in the revolutionary war to which they won, but France lost. He also spent a ton of a vast sum of money building a super castle called Versailles 12 miles south of Paris. Bread shortage and starvation are rampant in the city. There have been floods and cold weather, anything and everything has combined to make this land near starving. With bread being the most staple of all the diets it is the one which has been affected the most and the people are hungry in more ways than one.
The white plague known as tuberculosis (also Consumption) is ravaging the population. There is an inept and out of touch monarchy. Louis XVI is weak, young and stupid. He is manipulated and at the mercy of smarter and more manipulative men. His wife, the nefarious Marie Antoinette has become the model of hatred for the aristocracy as she spends money like it is water on the most frivolous things. There are 3 cultural Castes, each called an Estate; The first estate is the clergy, the second estate is the nobility and the third estate is everyone else. The first two have all the money and power. The third make up the vast majority of people and have nothing.
The characters are soldiers in the French army and they too have nothing. They are a step above the poor population, but they are viewed as being part of the aristocracy because they follow the orders of the aristocracy. So for all intents and purposes they get all the negatives but none of the positives.
The characters are as follows:
Doug........Thierry Renault...............Sergeant
Mel...........Christophe Pressi...........Soldier
Hugh........Jean Dupois....................Soldier
Jim............Michel Beaumains..........Soldier
It is Midnight at the entrance to the Catacombs of Paris. The investigators are on guard duty, watching carts filled with bones arriving from Saint-Innocents cemetery.
Dupois and Beaumains are helping unload the carts whilst Renault and Pressi are keeping an eye out on the night streets for signs of trouble. A crumpled flier is found by the sergeant, it is a copy of What is the Third Estate? —an incendiary pamphlet by Emmanuel-Joseph Sieyès, which argues for the rights of the people against those of the established order of clergy and aristocracy. The sergeant screws it up and tosses it away, only to be spotted by Pressi who secretively gathers it up.
Lucien Rigault, the court physician, is here to supervise the work. A large man with nervous energy, Rigault wears a wig, and his cheeks are powdered a fashionable white; the wig is askew, however, and his excessive sweating is making the makeup run. His eyes gleam feverishly as he directs the workers, “Skulls to the left, bones to the right,” and so on.
A wild clattering of hooves sounds in the street. A white carriage with red trim speeds into view as sparks fly from its wheels. The driver is clad in black, his face masked, and he drives heedlessly towards the workers. Seeing the oncoming collision, soldiers nearby attempt to grab a worker and pull them out of the cart’s path
As the carriage flashes past, through the open window there is a momentary glimpse of a well-dressed nobleman. He is kissing the neck of a young woman, but he stares outwards, locking eyes with Pressi outside, a smile curling at his lips. To Pressi, it feels that time stands still for a heartbeat, as he is drawn into the gaze… Then with a flash, the carriage is gone, careening up the street, heading north.
“Damn aristos!’ The workers shake their fists at the departing carriage, picking themselves up and resuming their grim task.
Beaumains recognizes the carriage but does not know its owner. He has seen it travel with the same breakneck speed on the forest road through Nanterre to the west, traveling towards or away from Paris.
It is unfortunate that two of the workers were unable to be saved by the soldiers, and lie dead in a crumpled, bloody mess on the cold floor. It isn’t long before they are ungraciously gathered up and tossed into a cart and taken away. Pressi and Rigault have heated words before Renault steps in to admonish Pressi, ordering him to get back to work. The other soldiers are ordered back to work too.
Sometime later, there is a commotion near the entrance to the Catacombs. The workers have stopped carrying the bones inside, as they claim there is someone inside in the dark, watching them. They are fearful of restless spirits and potential calamities. Rigault is angry and wants the work to continue and directs the soldiers to intervene.
Renault speaks with the workers, but they are unwilling to return to work. He orders his soldiers to follow him into the catacombs to investigate the claims
Inside, it is dark and eerie. A spiral staircase leads straight down, far below street level. The stairs exit into a small chamber, beyond which stretch corridors filled with bones. The investigators have arrived in an empire of death. Lanterns are placed at regular intervals to guide the workers.
The ceilings are low. The dry dust catches in the throat, making both breathing and speaking unpleasant. Bones are stacked to the ceiling in patterned rows of matching type, with macabre artistry. The main caverns lead further underground but there are side corridors, shadowed and dark. The atmosphere of death is quite overwhelming. The massed evidence of their own mortality causes Sanity loss amongst the soldiers.
The soldiers venture deeper in, all sounds from above fade away. Then, a crouching figure with a yellowish gleam to his eye, is spotted in the darkness. It is challenged, but with lightning speed turns and lopes away in a movement more dog-like than human. Beaumains tracks the creature for a while, but then all signs of its tracks are lost. The soldiers return to the surface and Renault confirms that all is safe, the workers return to their grisly task.
The night’s work continues until there is another interruption when a rider gallops up to the gates and swings off his horse. Captain Louis Malon is the commanding officer of the soldiers. He is a tall man with a black moustache and steel blue eyes, and the bearing of a natural soldier.
He orders the soldiers to leave their post and go at once to a printing press at the Rue de la Harpe. The landlady, Madame Bossat, has reported a murder. Malon does not trust de Crosne’s corrupt and inefficient police force to investigate the crime properly and wants the soldiers to take the lead to replace the investigators on guard duty, and Malon will remain here until they arrive. The printing press is a short distance away. Horses are available.
Before they depart, Malon leans in close to give Renault an additional instruction.
On the way, the soldiers spot a ragged crowd gathering outside a bakery. The people of Paris are starving, and the soldiers know from experience that this looks to be the beginnings of a riot. An angry crowd has gathered here, as the baker’s bread is already sold in advance; he has little flour and must fill his existing orders. There will be nothing to spare, an answer that satisfies nobody.
The soldiers intervene: a combination of persuasion, intimidation and riding disperses the crowd, but not before Pressi loses control of his horse and is tossed to the ground, much to the amusement of the gathering.
Riot averted and the Bakers family safe, the soldiers continue on to the Printers…
