The Musketeers 2.03 “The Good Traitor”

Synopsis of The Musketeers 2.03 “The Good Traitor” from my cable TV provider:

A Spanish general offers to hand over the formula of a unique and deadly gunpowder in exchange for help rescuing his kidnapped daughter. Meanwhile, the dauphin becomes gravely ill and Constance risks everything to save him.

The main plot of “The Good Traitor” (episode 2.03) is similar to the plot of “Keep Your Friends Close” (episode 2.01). In the earlier episode, Spain was holding French General De Foix and his daughter captive. De Foix was responsible for France’s military strategy against Spain, so he was imprisoned (and his daughter was threatened) to try to persuade De Foix to reveal France’s strategic plans.

Of course, it fell to our eponymous protagonists to try to rescue the general and his daughter from Spanish imprisonment and eventual execution.

In “The Good Traitor,” Spanish general Tariq flees Spain with his daughter after being persecuted for being a Moor.* Tariq is responsible for inventing a powerful explosive that could be used as a 14th-century “weapon of mass destruction” in a potential war between France and Spain. Subsequently, Tariq’s daughter is captured and threatened with harm by Spanish agents in an attempt to persuade Tariq to reveal the formula for the explosive.

Of course, it falls to our eponymous protagonists to try to rescue the general’s daughter (and eventually the general, too) from Spanish imprisonment and eventual execution.

Additionally, the earlier episode (“Keep Your Friends Close”) introduced Lucie de Foix (the general’s daughter) as yet another possible love interest for D’Artagnan (though we have not seen her since that first episode). Similarly, “The Good Traitor” introduced Samara Tariq (the general’s daughter)—possibly as a potential love interest for Porthos.

We’ll see if either of these potential romances is developed further this season. In the meantime, though, there are plenty of sexual entanglements in this episode.

“The Good Traitor” opens with Rochefort hiring a prostitute who looks vaguely like Anne (we were informed in the earlier episode that Rochefort fell in love with Queen Anne when he tutored her in French customs before her marriage to Louix XIII). Before having sex with the prostitute, Rochefort has the woman dress as Queen Anne (complete with crown) and profess her love for him.

The scene is a bit kinky and mildly creepy—though not anywhere near as creepy as what Joffrey did with prostitutes in two separate episodes of Game of Thrones.

Later, Rochefort is alone with the queen in her chamber—consoling her over the apparent abduction of her infant son (more on that plot point in a bit). As he sits next to her, holding her hand to comfort her, he says, “I love you.”

It’s clear his expectation is to hear similar sentiments repeated back. However, a second or two of bewilderment on Anne’s face is the only response he is given, so he adds “. . . as any subject would love his queen.”

Ah, poor Rochefort, what mad scheme would he plan if he knew Anne’s emotions sway away from him and toward Aramis (who continues to watch queen and child from afar)?

Meanwhile, Milady de Winter has taken her own aggressive approach to ensnaring King Louis XIII in her sexual trap. First, she shows up at the palace wearing a gown that is meant to draw the king’s eye. The gown does its job, as the king compliments her on it—to which Milady replies, “It is so much the height of fashion, Sire; I had to commit murder to obtain it.”

She did not mean “commit murder” as a figure of speech—so it’s somewhat surprising there isn’t even a spot of blood on her dress.

Yet, the king is too concerned about the ill health of his royal heir (more on that plot point in a bit), so Milady must lie in wait for another opportunity, which comes when she shows up at the palace again in an even more eye-catching gown—one that finally elicits a dinner invitation from the king.

After dinner, Milady helps the king to his knees to lead him in a prayer for the health of the Dauphin. Then, after the off-screen prayer is performed, one thing must have led to another and they ended up having sex under the dining table.

However, as the after-play is winding down, the queen, Rochefort, and assorted courtesans suddenly interrupt the king’s post-coital euphoria to deliver the distressing news of the Dauphin’s apparent abduction by Constance Bonacieux.

Of course, Constance hasn’t really abducted the infant heir; she merely rescued him from the wrong-headed medical treatments of a 14th-century physician so she could take him to a laundry facility where the steam would help clear his lungs and prevent his death. It wasn’t clear if the child suffered from pneumonia or croup (or perhaps some other malady). What is known is that his life was saved by Constance.

As the child took ill and was near death, I half expected his life to end in this episode—fulfilling my prediction from two weeks ago that this baby is the one known in French history as “stillborn child, April 1631.”** Nevertheless, the cure of a strong humidifier and the constant care of Constance “cured” him—thus saving the lives of both the Dauphin and herself (the king had ordered Constance to be hanged).

Overall, the main plot of Tariq’s explosive formula and the political complications with Spain is not nearly as interesting as the various sexual predilections and romantic possibilities offered in this episode. The main plot seems like an alternate draft of “Keep Your Friends Close”—though it does indicate that the “cold war” between France and Spain is going to be an overarching plot for this season (which could lead to some interesting developments later).

However, the more intriguing overarching subplot is the dangerous liaison between Milady and King Louis. It is the one that is likely to offer more explosions.

* Yes, it’s a variation of Othello (with Spain filling in for Venice), which was Shakespeare’s variation of “Un Capitano Moro” (“A Moorish Captain”)—a 1565 tale that was part of Cinthio’s Gli Hecatommithi. It’s interesting to see The Musketeers using literary material beyond the source material of Alexandre Dumas.

** The first season of The Musketeers took place during the years 1630-31, as evidenced by the date of death recorded on the mortuary marker for Adèle Bessette—the woman who was romantically involved with both Aramis and Cardinal Richelieu. However, that creates a problem with the series having Cardinal Richelieu die of a heart attack between seasons one and two, as the historical Richelieu died in 1642.

It’s difficult to suspend disbelief enough to allow that 11 or 12 years passed between the first and second seasons. Yet, if that’s the case, then the child Aramis fathered with Anne was born in 1642—a year in which there are no historical records of Anne giving birth. The actual heir to the throne, Louis XIV, was born in 1638.

How should we account for these historical inaccuracies in The Musketeers? That’s easy; the events in the series take place in a parallel universe. ’Nuff Said.