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Prologue

Grantville

June 1635


“All Huguenots are Calvinists, but that does not signify that all Calvinists are Huguenots. For which we may sincerely thank the Lord our God.”

Gary Lambert raised his eyebrows at Leopold Cavriani. “The duke of Rohan is a Huguenot, though. Do I have that right?”

“Not only a Huguenot, but the titular leader, certainly the most important lay figure, of that party in France.”

“Then why is he working for Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar, who is Lutheran? I saw him when I went to Besançon in February for the installation of Bernhard as grand duke of the County of Burgundy. For that matter, if he’s that important a nobleman, why is he working for anybody? Why isn’t he rich?”

“He’s in exile and has been for years. He and his brother. Soubise is a secondary title that the brother uses; he’s a Rohan also—simply led more rebellions than the French crown was ultimately willing to tolerate. Exile doesn’t mean that he no longer feels that it’s his responsibility to deal with fanatical criminals like Ducos and his men, given that they proclaim themselves to be representatives of the Huguenot cause.”

Gary picked up his beer. “They’re equal opportunity assassins, at least. First trying to off the pope last year, now gossip that they were behind the attack on Henry Dreeson and Enoch Wiley in March. Two of their own. Two Presbyterians. Calvinists. Enoch a preacher. That’s what I don’t understand. If they’re all Calvinists . . . ”

“Huguenots excel at internecine conflict.” Leopold slowly turned his wine glass around and around, watching the trail of light that reflected through the fluted stem onto the varnished table top at Tyler’s Family Restaurant. “Rohan regards Bernhard as a friend, I believe, as well as an employer. There was talk of a possible marriage between Bernhard and Rohan’s heiress, but it didn’t come to anything, and then the grand duke married Claudia de’ Medici a couple of months ago, so that possibility is off the board.”


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Framed