Alatriste Page #5

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Inigo, I must inform you

of a grave matter.

The queen and my uncle want me

to marry the Count of Guadalmedina.

My heart is yours alone. Should you

still wish to run away to Naples,

come to my house tonight.

My servant will bring you to me.

Obviously,

in spite of what I said,

you are not dead to me.

Inigo, l'm afraid.

If we don't run away now,

all will be misfortune.

We'll go to a place

where they'll never find us.

A place where we'll be nothing.

No-one.

Just you and I.

We would live in sin.

There is no sin, Angelica.

There has never been any.

It is they who are sin.

She's only a woman, Captain.

l'm not doing this

for her but for myself.

The king is the king...

The king is a son of a b*tch.

You should leave Madrid.

Kings are vindictive,

I should know.

Guadalmedina is a Grandee

and you've crossed swords

with him...

Tomorrow l'll make my apologies.

I hope he accepts them.

Even if he did,

you should leave Madrid.

And you too.

There are certain rumours...

Yes, 'tis true.

I have recently written verses

that could complicate matters...

But l'm too old to hide,

especially from that...

Good luck, Captain.

And to you.

Diego,

l'm a man of few words.

Yes.

l'm going home.

With what l've saved I want

to buy some land and find a wife.

Come with me if you like.

That was more than a few words.

O Catholic, holy

and royal Majesty,

made by God a deity on earth,

a simple, poor, honest old man

pleads, prostrate,

in silent humility before you.

I needs must speak

and do pray heaven

that my zeal

obtain its just reward.

A minister you have

of nobility and valour

whose only wish

is that you should reign...

Sire.

Behold, Philip IV,

famous the world over,

open thy generous heart

and give us an heir.

From him who never tires

of taking bread from the poor,

who devalues our coin, who sells thy

realm and would sell God Himself,

deliver us!

Deliver us, Sire,

from all evil.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

But you will be

a Grandee of Spain,

and your children...

and your children's children.

Your children...

and your children's children...

Diego...

Don Francisco

was arrested last night.

The Prison of San Marcos.

Then it's all over.

We should have kept

that gold for ourselves.

Maybe.

I presume you gentlemen

are familiar

with the laws of gambling.

Then there's no need to say that

the price for debt default is death.

Very well, then.

This is the situation...

Senor Balboa owes 2OO ducats

and says he cannot pay.

He also says

he doesn't care if we kill him.

However, l've heard

that Your Worship

would care if he lost his life.

Yes, I would care.

Then we all win.

Senor Balboa,

in spite of himself,

will keep his life

and we shall recover our money,

as long as you, of course,

pay the debt.

Is that possible?

It is possible.

We're no experts in jewels.

We only accept coin.

Like this?

Sebastian...

What?

Diego, I owe you an explanation.

Meet me at the cloister

of Las Minillas.

You're under arrest, Diego!

Disarm him.

Surrender or l'll kill you.

One question, Martin.

With whose rod of office

will your widow now console herself?

What?

Cuckold!

Martin...

So good to see you

fighting, Captain.

It's been some time.

l've missed you.

Yes, and the whore

that bore you.

Enough merriment.

Diego.

Are you alive?

I think so.

Don't cough, you bastard,

or you'll bleed to death.

You didn't mean it, did you?

What?

What you said.

About me being a cuckold.

Of course I didn't.

I said it to annoy you.

You know me.

It's always the same...

F***!

l'm dying.

Martin.

Have you ever stopped to consider

that we always end up

killing each other?

Sh*t life.

Diego, they forced me to do it.

They forced me to do it.

l've been expecting you, lad.

Let's go.

Just a moment.

If you'll be so kind...

Will you be back for supper?

I don't know.

You know there's

nothing after death?

Yes.

There's the rub.

As you can imagine, don Luis,

my services to the king

have not been without cost.

Excellency, everyone

knows of your deep dedication

to upholding the reputation

of our monarchy

and defending the true faith.

Thus, I have decided

that my niece's dowry shall be

on a par with your generosity.

As you will see, Your Excellency,

I have included

the silver mines in Tasco,

the lands in Aragon...

Excellency, regarding

that Captain Alatriste...

Excellency...

No.

I don't want him to die.

If you'll allow me, Excellency,

I have an idea.

'Spain did kill and imprison

him who made a slave of fortune.

They mourned his envies,

one by one,

foreign nations with our own.

His grave, the campaigns in Flanders

and his epitaph,

the blood-red moon.'

'And his epitaph,

the blood-red moon.'

They say the prison of San Marcos

is the coldest in all Spain.

Yes, that's what they say.

Do you remember me?

Yes.

Senor Malatesta said that were he to

die first, I should give you this.

He also said you could keep me

if you so desired.

Thank you.

That's not necessary.

As you wish.

It was pleasant

seeing you both again.

And you.

Madrid. Syphilitics hospital

Diego, what are you doing here?

I wanted to see you.

I should have married you.

What's going on?

He's under arrest

in the name of the king.

What's he accused of?

Of spying for France.

You cannot enter.

His Excellency is in Italy.

I come to see the countess.

What are you doing here?

I come to ask a favour of you.

I need you to give this letter

to Count-duke Olivares.

I tried to take it to him but they

wouldn't let me into the palace.

It's about Inigo.

He's been on

the galleys for a year.

Thank you, Excellency.

Don't call me "Excellency".

I hate it.

Inigo always called me Angelica.

Don't weep, madam.

Excellency, don't weep.

Inigo is strong.

He'll survive.

I must weep, Captain.

Betrayal is a stain

that never ages.

Judas hanged himself

but l'm not so brave.

That is why I weep.

l'll give the letter

to the Count-duke.

The honour and reputation

of Spain are lost, Captain.

The Lord God

has forsaken us.

Excellency...

There's no other explanation.

All is misfortune.

Casale should have been taken,

Turin saved, Arras relieved,

and the Catalans and Portuguese

should never have rebelled

against their king.

This is the most wretched year

the monarchy has ever seen.

Excellency,

the letter I sent you...

Yes.

The letter.

The letter.

l've read it.

But the evidence was conclusive.

The young man was a French spy.

Excellency...

But all is not lost.

Richelieu is ill

and the Dutch want peace.

If the Cardinal Infante's troops...

He's the orphaned son of one

of your soldiers, I raised him...

l've said all

I have to say, Captain.

You may go.

"Letter to the Cardinal Infante..."

Excellency...

'Sir...

Letters from Flanders...'

Excellency!

Look me in the eye.

Inigo Balboa.

The king has pardoned you.

Let's go home, son.

ROCROI, MAY, 1643

THE CARTAGENA INFANTRY REGIMEN AFTER EIGHT HOURS OF BATTLE

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