This is the promised sequel to my story "What Remains to Be Seen", though reading that is not necessary to understand what goes on in this one. This is my longest story to date! Pretty proud of that – not gonna lie. Thanks, as usual, to my incredible beta, Sharlot, who always makes these stories so much better. Hope you enjoy!

Know Thy Enemy

Chapter 1

"Oi," Porthos growled under his breath. "These sots couldn't hit the broadside of the palace if they were standing right next to it." He flinched as another badly aimed shot rang through the forest, one more tree giving its life for His Majesty's folly. "I hate these royal hunts. If any of them could shoot a musket sober, it's pretty much a given most of 'em can barely see the target let alone hit it after drinkin' a barrel of wine."

Athos raised an eyebrow, his body stiff at attention. "At least the wildlife remain safe." A stray shot pinged off a tree far to their right. "Of course, I am not so sure of ourselves."

The King had decided to organize a hunt in the forest near the Louvre to entertain Odoardo Farnese, the Duke of Parma and his young son, Alessandro. Wanting to make a good impression in order to arrange a marriage between young Alessandro and a distant cousin, Louis had ordered the finest wine from the palace stores promising the Duke a royal feast and fete to consummate the union. So far, the wine was compensating for the lack of production in the hunt, but the Musketeers knew that having of a group of inebriated nobility with loaded firearms roaming the forest was not in anyone's best interest. The sun was beginning to set behind the trees and they would have to find a way to call a halt to the hunt soon, whether the King's guests found success or not.

D'Artagnan shifted, kicking up some dirt beneath his boots. "We've been out here all day," he whined. "Can't we just tell them they've used up all the ammunition and it's time to head back? I'm starved." A roar of laughter went up from the courtiers surrounding the King as he took another shot into the forest, nearly falling from the combination of wine and weaponry. The Gascon shook his head in confusion. "What is he shooting at? They've frightened all the game away by now."

"Perhaps not," Aramis tilted his head toward a small flock of quail landing about thirty paces in front of them. "I think a plump quail dinner could entice our questionable marksmen to call an end to the day's festivities."

Porthos huffed a laugh. "You forgettin' none of them could hit the damn things if they waddled right up in front of 'em and surrendered?"

"Dressed in all that fluff and finery, the courtiers do waddle a bit," d'Artagnan noted, not quite able to keep a straight face.

"I am quite sure he was referring to the birds," Athos sighed.

"Before any waddling takes place, perhaps we should offer our assistance." Aramis grinned, his eyes flashing in the fading light. "Discretely, of course."

Athos leaned forward, eyeing the Spaniard dubiously. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"If you could persuade our illustrious King to take aim at the birds in flight, we should be able to… aid… his aim and bolster his success."

D'Artagnan studied the birds in question, tilting his head as he watched them calmly strut around the small open area. "Just how are we to get them to take flight?"

Aramis placed an arm across his shoulder. "That's where you come in. A smart farm boy like yourself should be quite practiced in ruffling the feathers of a few birds."

It took a moment for the suggestion to register, but as soon as it did, d'Artagnan shook off the marksman's arm and stared at him incredulously. "You want me to run down there, right into the line of fire?"

Aramis patted both hands against the lad's chest. "Of course not. That is why Athos will be right by Louis' side." He dropped his voice as if sharing a secret. "I'm fairly certain he's become quite fond of you and would never allow anything untoward to happen."

D'Artagnan shot a skeptical look toward Athos, who merely nodded in return.

He sighed. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"That's the spirit!" Aramis clapped him on the shoulder and turned to smile at Athos. "I believe the first move is yours."

"May I remind you your sight was recently impaired."

"I assure you I am fully recovered." Aramis' voice took on a tolerant tone and he rolled his eyes at Athos' unnecessary reminder of his recent injury. An explosion in an alley had robbed him of his sight for a short time while on a mission to retrieve the King's stolen gold. His weeks of blindness had served to frighten them all, but his sight was now restored to full sharpness and he was eager to prove to his friends that though their concern was greatly appreciated, it was no longer warranted.

"This had better work."

Aramis' smile returned. "Have I ever let you down?"

Athos' brows disappeared under his ruffled bangs, but he turned and marched toward the King and his guests.

Aramis pulled his pistols from his belt and checked the load as Porthos stepped closer. "You sure this'll work?"

"Are you doubting my prowess as well, dear Porthos?"

"Never," the big man shook his head and moved to stand between the courtiers and Aramis, effectively hiding him from their view. "I'm just desperate. I'm hungry and my feet are killing me."

Aramis' confident smile never wavered. "For you, my friend, I shall hit not one, but two fowl to grace His Majesty's table this evening."

Porthos snorted a laugh, but didn't comment. It had been Porthos' steady presence those weeks that had made it easier for him to compensate for his lost sight. Without the big man's unwavering support, his natural impatience and doubts would have gotten the better of him, and the outcome could have been far different.

As soon as Athos indicated the King's readiness, Aramis signaled d'Artagnan who ran at the flock of birds like a madman, arms pinwheeling as he let loose a loud squawk. The birds, startled at the sudden intrusion, took flight, rising through the treetops to the dusky sky above.

"Fire!"

At Athos' command, the King obeyed and a shot rang out, two of the birds stopping mid-flight and falling to the ground. The guests roared their approval as Louis, incredibly pleased with himself, turned to accept their accolades on his incredible display of marksmanship.

Porthos turned to see Aramis lowering his pistols, smoke still rising from the barrels.

"Good shot," the big man grinned.

"Yes," Aramis agreed, placing his spent pistols back into his belt. "The King's aim seems to have improved."

It only took a few moments for Athos and d'Artagnan to return, each smiling, delighted with the outcome of their plan.

"The King has ordered his kill to be sent to the palace immediately so they can dine on their sumptuous feast." Athos informed them. "As soon as we deliver His Majesty back to the Louvre, we are dismissed for the night."

"Thank God," d'Artagnan sighed. "You don't suppose the King would see fit to share one of those birds?"

Porthos laughed. "Maybe Aramis should've tried to hit three at once."

"Not even I am that good, my friend," the marksman humbly insisted.

"You're good enough," Porthos complimented, and Aramis tilted his head in thanks. "I, for one, am willing to settle for whatever Serge has to offer."

"I concur," Athos agreed. "I suggest we return our charges back to the safety of the palace without further delay."

Mmmmmmmmmmmmm

Despite the lateness of their return, Serge served them up bowls of warm, aromatic stew and loaves of crusted bread, which the Musketeers greedily devoured. With their hunger finally sated, the four friends relaxed against the large wooden table, sipping at their wine, allowing themselves to wind down from the exasperating day.

"Do you think Louis really believes he killed those two birds with one shot?"

Aramis nudged d'Artagnan's shoulder in response to the younger man's question. "Never underestimate the nobility's capacity to believe exactly what they want without question."

"Does that include all nobility as a whole?" Athos asked dryly.

Aramis bowed his head in contrition. "Point well taken, Comte. Though be assured I would never consider you part of such a generalization."

Athos returned the nod, satisfied. "Apology accepted."

The conversation was broken by heavy footsteps on the landing above.

"Aramis, my office, please," Captain Treville barked from the balcony. "You too, Porthos."

This time it was d'Artagnan who nudged at Aramis' shoulder as soon as the Captain had retreated into his office. "You don't think he heard about the King's sudden amazing shooting skills, do you?"

Aramis shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "Perhaps he simply wants to commend me for my creative thinking."

"Or caution you on the folly of it," Athos amended.

"Then why am I involved?" Porthos asked defensively. "It was Aramis' idea."

"Where he goes, you generally follow," Athos offered. He raised his cup to drink, not quite hiding the smile lifting his lips.

D'Artagnan leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Whatever the reason, from the look on the Captain's face, I don't think it wise to keep him waiting."

Aramis sighed and pushed himself from the bench. He picked up his hat and placed it over his chest dramatically. "Remember us fondly, my friends."

"Sonnets will be written," Athos assured.

Aramis bowed, placed his hat upon his head, and with a disgruntled Porthos in tow, made his way up the steps to meet his fate.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

The two Musketeers stood at attention before the captain's desk, squirming under his intense scrutiny. Finally Treville leaned forward, forearms pressed against the parchment-strewn surface, his eyes locked on Aramis'.

"I understand the King made a spectacular shot today while hunting," he said casually, his eyes narrowing as a ghost of a smile flashed across the marksman's face. "It's the talk of the palace," he continued. "Quite a feat, I understand. Killing two quail with one shot. I just wish I could have been there to witness it for myself."

Aramis blinked and tilted his head innocently. "It was quite impressive."

"I'm sure." Treville stared at them a bit longer before relaxing and sinking back into his chair. "I suppose as long as he remains unaware of your assistance, there will be no repercussions." He shook his head, exasperated. "I have no idea what you could've been thinking, Aramis, but I am relieved your sight is no longer in question."

"Thank you, Captain. I was merely trying to end a fruitless day before a stray shot actually managed to do harm."

Treville chuckled. "Yes, Louis was quite in his cups when they returned. The Queen was not amused." He shook his head ruefully. "I suppose it was for the best."

Aramis smiled his thanks and Porthos heaved a sigh of relief.

Treville held out a folded parchment with the seal of the Cardinal already broken. "Considering you are fully fit for duty, I believe this may be of interest to you. The King has received word that Minister Colbert may have been sighted near the town of Brenne on the estate of the Baron d'Orbec. Though all our intelligence indicates the Minister has been traveling north, I am bound to give this report due diligence. The two of you will ride to the southern Berry province and ascertain if there is any credence to the report." He leaned forward, his brows raised. "If there is any sign Colbert is hiding there, I do not want him aware of your presence. Send word and wait for reinforcements. Am I clear?"

Aramis accepted the parchment from the captain as Porthos nodded. "I hardly believe the Minister will be a challenge."

"The King is losing patience. We cannot take he chance Colbert will find a way to slip away again."

"Would it not be wise then to allow Athos and d'Artangan to accompany us as well?" Aramis suggested.

Treville sighed. "Since he had such success today, Louis has decided to hold another hunt tomorrow, requesting the four of you as escort." He looked pointedly at the marksman. "I thought it best to remove any temptation you may have to offer assistance once again. The King will accept yours and Porthos absence, but I doubt he would take so readily to losing all four of his favorite Musketeers."

Aramis pursed his lips and gave the captain an exaggerated nod. "I heartily concur, Captain. I can hardly be trusted with such enticement."

"If Colbert is found to be hiding near Brenne, I will send the others."

Porthos chuckled, nudging his friend with an elbow. "D'Artagnan is not goin' to be happy about this."

"D'Artagnan will learn that being a Musketeer is not all glory and praise." Treville shrugged, unconcerned.

Aramis smiled. "If it pleases, we would be glad to extend the good news of tomorrow's hunt to our dear friends."

Treville rolled his eyes and waved them away, returning his attention to the myriad of scrolls ad parchments on his desk. "I wager you would. Be gentle."

As they made their way down the steps, both Musketeers schooled their faces, quickly donning expressions of contrition. As they approached their friends, d'Artagnan turned to them, trying to control his mirth as the two penitent men resumed their seats.

"I take it things did not go as well as you'd hoped?"

Aramis shook his head as he reached for the cup he had abandoned only a few minutes ago. "The Captain had indeed heard of today's activities."

Porthos managed to grab his own cup and raise it to his lips before his smile gave the game away.

"He was not pleased?" Athos asked, a touch of concern in his voice.

"No." Aramis took a drink and sighed dramatically. "And I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"He's punishing you?" d'Artagnan asked, his earlier humor tempered.

Aramis nodded, sighing again. "He is sending Porthos and me off chasing rumors to keep us away from the King's scrutiny." He shook his head, playing the part of the repentant man to the hilt. "I'm afraid we won't be able to join you for tomorrow's hunt, my friends. I'm truly sorry."

"What? Why that's – wait…" the younger man's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean tomorrow's hunt?"

Aramis turned to d'Artagnan, steadfastly ignoring Porthos' low rumble of mirth from across the table. "Apparently Louis was so happy with his success today, he has organized another hunt for tomorrow. Unfortunately, Porthos and I will not be able to help you stand guard seeing as we will be on our way to Brenne at dawn." He waved the folded parchment in his hand and slapped it down onto the table. "I have the utmost confidence you will represent the Musketeers honorably in our absence."

"What?" d'Artagnan sputtered, his eyes following the parchment before turning his gaze back to the marksman. "We have to spend another day in the forest dodging musket fire, and you and Porthos get to go out on a nice ride in the country? How is that fair?"

Unable to hold his laughter in any longer, Porthos nearly dropped his cup onto the tabletop as he roared aloud.

"And why does Porthos get to go?" the Gascon continued, unaffected by the big man's mirth. "He didn't even do anything!"

"Where he goes, I follow," Porthos repeated Athos' earlier words. "I suppose since I'm the only one who didn't have a hand in Aramis' scheme, it's my job to go with 'im and make sure he stays out of trouble."

D'Artagnan folded his arms across his chest and huffed through his nose. "I still say it's not fair."

Athos had picked up the parchment, his eyes scanning the orders. "Treville is sending you after Colbert alone?"

Aramis shook his head. "We are only to ascertain the validity of the report and send word back. If we do find him, we have been ordered to wait for your assistance in apprehending him."

"Like it would take the four of us to catch that runt," Porthos grunted, his good humor tempered.

"He has managed to evade capture for much longer than anticipated," Athos reminded him. "Despite his stature, he is a cunning and devious man. I would feel better if we were all involved."

"Treville believes this to be a false lead," Porthos reassured his friend. "He is simply finding a way to lessen the temptation of Aramis tryin' to show off again."

"A legitimate concern." Athos agreed. He handed the parchment back to Aramis and smiled. "Considering the circumstances, I believe the only honorable thing to do is retire to the Wren – at Aramis' expense, of course."

The marksman dipped his head conciliatorily. "Of course. My meager purse is at your disposal."

"Don't think a few bottles of wine will make up for this," d'Artagnan grumbled, still sulking. He rose and joined his friends as they made their way across the courtyard.

Aramis placed an arm across the younger man's shoulders. "Ah, but it will be a good start."

TBC