Authors note: A while ago I wrote a fan fic called 'The Right Thing to Do', about a former musketeer cadet who was angry with Aramis for not letting him continue with his training. This is a prequel to that story. I hope you enjoy it.
A Second Chance
Chapter One
'How long should we leave it before we split them up?'
'They ain't even fighting yet.'
'I know, but they will.'
Porthos leaned back in his chair as he watched the mounting tension between Dupont and Garde, which had been building for the last few minutes. Neither Porthos or Aramis, who was sat beside him cleaning his gun, could hear the heated conversation but the body language of each of the young cadets was clear. Garde had said something that had upset Dupont and Dupont was on the point of taking physical action.
Aramis wanted to step in before it got to an actual fight, but Porthos wanted to see if it got that far. Garde was one of the best of the recent cadets to begin training and had sailed through with few problems. He would gain his commission soon. Dupont on the other hand was struggling. But he would not accept the fact. He would not ask for help and became agitated and angry easily. He thought he was better than he was. Aramis could see potential in the young man, even if Porthos could not.
Dupont had arrived with a dubious letter of introduction from a Baron in the south of France. Unable to verify the contents of the letter, Treville had allowed the man to begin training, but had told the Musketeers to keep a close eye on him. Dupont had shown ability, but had little control or skill. He was clearly enthusiastic but had no formal training. They had been forced to start from scratch, which had upset the young man as he watched his peers being taught more advanced techniques.
The young man was of a large build and towered over some of the other cadets, he was strong but lacked elegance, which hampered him when it came to some of the more intricate movements in his swordsmanship.
It was Dupont who threw the first punch, Garde managed to dodge it and retaliated with a fine strike to the other man's cheek. Aramis and Porthos hurried across the garrison to split the two up. The other cadets were watching keenly, some were cheering on Garde. None cheered on Dupont.
Dupont had grabbed Garde by the shirt and had pulled back ready to head butt the other cadet. Porthos pushed Dupont away from Garde before he could strike. Aramis grabbed Dupont by the arms and manoeuvred him a few meters away. Aramis could feel the tenseness of Dupont's muscles; the young man was fired up and wanted to carry on with the fight.
'Easy, Hubert,' said Aramis, forcing Dupont further away.
Porthos had hauled Garde up and was steering him out of the garrison. Aramis watched them go, guessing Porthos would probably walk the young man to the nearest tavern, buy him a drink, and talk him down from his worked-up state.
'He hit me,' said Dupont as he shrugged Aramis off. Aramis did not let go entirely, but began to walk Dupont across the garrison to the infirmary.
'He retaliated,' replied Aramis as he opened the door and gently pushed the cadet through, 'you tried to hit him first…we were watching.'
'He said I was useless, that I don't deserve to be a Musketeer.'
'And you need to learn to ignore remarks like that.'
Aramis indicated a chair and Dupont reluctantly sat down. He sighed and reached up to touch his cheek, Aramis stopped him.
'Leave it, let me clean it,' Aramis admonished as he pushed the hand away. The damage did not look too bad, Garde must have been wearing a ring which had grazed the skin on Dupont's cheek.
'Why did he get to leave and I have to stay here?'
'Because you lost, and I want to clean up your injury.'
Dupont did not reply. He sat in sullen silence as Aramis wiped away the trickle of blood and cleansed the graze with alcohol.
'Jean won't get away with it either,' said Aramis as he worked, 'I suspect you will both get a few days working in the stables.'
'I didn't start it.'
Aramis rolled his eyes, Dupont was being quite obstinate. Aramis wondered if he had ever been like that when he was younger. He reflected that they all had their moments of fighting against authority.
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Why was he being punished when he had not been his fault? Garde had been making snide remarks all day about how ineffectual he was.
He was better than all of them, and they knew it, they were just jealous, Garde and his friends. That was why Garde had punched him.
If Aramis and Porthos had not turned up he would have shown the others how good a fighter he was.
And now, he was stuck here getting tended to by Aramis whilst Garde was probably being congratulated by Porthos somewhere.
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The tavern that Porthos took Garde to was not very busy, he nodded a greeting to the landlord as he entered and indicated a table in the corner. The landlord nodded back and went about collecting a bottle of wine and two cups for the Musketeer and the young cadet.
Once the wine had been delivered and Porthos had passed the landlord a few coins he turned to Garde, who was obviously still worked up. He was looking at his knuckles which were slightly bruised from hitting Dupont.
'That was a fine punch, Jean,' said Porthos as he poured them each a cup of wine.
'I'm sorry,' said Garde without looking up, 'I shouldn't have said things to wind him up.'
Porthos could tell the cadet had more to say so did not interrupt him.
'It's just…he's so easy…you only have to tell him he can't do anything and he gets defensive. He makes out he's so brilliant, when we all know he's not.'
Porthos was impressed that the young man was being so honest. He knew the cadets could be hot headed and impetuous, he had been the same. He remembered having more than one run in with Treville, he was nearly thrown out once, but Aramis had talked the Captain around. Garde was going to make a fine soldier, but Dupont was a different matter.
Despite Aramis' attempts to get the man to reign himself in, he made out he was better than all the other, even better than the cadets who were much closer to gaining their commission. When the inevitable happened, and it was proven that he was not as good as he pretended to be, Dupont would react with angry outbursts. Treville had told them to keep an eye on him, and with good cause it seemed.
'We do watch you all, you know. We know what he's like. But he's just about keeping up so there ain't much we can do about him.'
Garde finally looked up at Porthos, he reached out and took his cup of wine, Porthos noticed his hand was shaking slightly. Perhaps Garde had thought Porthos was going to throw him out when he had marched him out of the garrison. Porthos liked being able to instil fear in people, most of the time, but he did not want this young man to be afraid of him.
'Treville will probably have you mucking out the horses for a few days as punishment for fighting, don't worry too much about it. Believe me, you are likely to do worse at some point.'
Garde looked at little shocked, Porthos smiled.
'The stories I can tell you about some of the Musketeers…'
Garde looked intrigued, Porthos warmed to his subject, he always enjoyed regaling a new audience with tales of his and his friend's adventures.
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Treville nodded towards the chair as Athos entered his office. He sat and patiently waited for his Captain to finish writing. When Treville looked up he did so with an enquiring expression.
'Which one of them started it?' he asked.
'I think Garde made a comment which upset Dupont. Dupont threw the first punch, but Garde ducked out of the way. They were as bad as each other really…'
'But?'
'But Dupont continues to be a concern, he is not progressing as well as I would expect. And he will not accept help. Aramis has offered to give him extra training and Porthos tries to help him with his sword work but he is dismissive of them both.'
'Should we ask him to leave?'
'Aramis would like to try again with him, give him one more chance.'
Athos watched as Treville thought about the proposal. If it had been up to him he would have not taken on the young man in the first place. His reference could not be verified and he had been cocky from the outset. It had taken some time to teach him his place, even amongst the cadets there was a pecking order.
'Let Aramis have another go with him, but I don't think we can afford to waste much more time on him, we have more pressing needs and plenty of fine cadets to work with.'
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'Dupont, how many times do I 'ave to explain it, this may not be exciting but it'll help you,' sighed Porthos as the young man limply carried out the exercise with the other cadets. Porthos had to hide a smirk as he saw some of the other young men stifling laughs.
It was a week since Dupont and Garde had fought. They had both taken a turn at stable duty as punishment and were back on the training ground. Garde was sparring with Athos. The other cadets were impressed. Only the best got to spar with Athos who was the best swordsman in the garrison. Some of the other cadets had been allowed to spar either with other musketeers or between themselves.
Dupont and three other newer cadets were working with Porthos. He was trying to teach them the importance of footwork when fighting. But Dupont clearly was not interested and just wanted to spar with the others.
'I know how to fight,' said Dupont arrogantly, 'this is pointless.'
Porthos was reaching the end of his patients with the young man, he sighed and turned to the other three cadets, 'let's go again.'
Dupont reluctantly continued with the drills, but his moves were lacklustre and without grace.
Aramis had returned from guard duty a few minutes earlier and was watching from the edge of the garrison. Porthos wandered over to him as the cadets continued to practice the movements.
'He's hopeless,' Porthos said.
'I know, I don't know how much longer we can keep him on,' replied Aramis, 'but it seems such a shame, he wants the commission but he just can't seem to control his attitude.'
Dupont was barely trying, whilst the other three cadets were improving each time they tried the drill. They were working together and pointing out each other's mistakes and helping to correct them. Dupont was being shunned by the other three.
Porthos looked at Aramis, 'please take him away.'
Aramis smiled, taking pity on his friend, 'you owe me…I'm not even supposed to be doing any training today.'
Porthos wandered back over to his cadets, 'Dupont, go and see Aramis, he has a job for you.'
The young man huffed and wandered over to the marksman. Porthos nodded his thanks to Aramis as he directed the cadet towards the armoury.
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He did not need to learn how to fight with a sword, he knew how to fight with a sword. This stupid repetitive drill was pointless. How could the others not see that?
Why did Garde get to spar with Athos? He could take on Athos, he could take on any of them.
He did not need extra practice and he did not need this humiliation, being taken away by Aramis in front of the other cadets.
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'Sit there and clean those guns.'
'What for?'
'Because I told you to.'
'I know how to clean a gun, we've done it a thousand times,' said Dupont as he sat heavily at the table in the armoury.
'And I want you to clean these guns now,' replied Aramis sitting opposite the cadet.
Aramis pushed one of the guns on the table towards the young man who reluctantly started to clean the weapon. Aramis did the same with one of the other guns. In truth, the weapons had all been cleaned earlier in the day, but Aramis found the actions of cleaning guns relaxing. And it meant he could talk to Dupont in private. He knew how close the young man was to being asked to leave and he did not want that to happen.
'You have to start listening to us,' began Aramis, 'we've all been doing this a long time. We know what we are talking about. The drills may be boring, and repetitive, but trust me, they will help you.'
The young cadet did not respond, he continued wiping down the gun in front of him, Aramis noted that his actions were very stiff. Dupont was going through the motions to placate him.
'You have to learn to walk before you can run…' Aramis gave Dupont a look that told him not to interrupt when he looked up and opened his mouth to speak.
'Even you have to admit you are not as good as some of the other cadets…and that is not a problem, but, if you continue to ignore our advice you will be asked to leave.'
Dupont stopped cleaning and looked at Aramis, obviously shocked.
'But I know how to fight, and I can shoot.'
Aramis smiled, 'your shooting isn't that good my friend.'
Dupont looked angry at the remark, despite Aramis trying to keep the conversation light, he had clearly hit a nerve.
'I can give you some extra tuition, if you would like,' said Aramis in an attempt to defuse the situation, 'there won't be anyone by the targets now, it would just be us two, if that is what you would prefer?'
Aramis watched as Dupont thought about what Aramis had said. Dupont nodded.
'Bring those and we'll go around there now.'
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An area of the garrison, away from the training ground, had been set up for target practice. After a couple of cadets had been hit by stray shots a few years ago Treville had decided it was too dangerous to let untrained youngsters loose with guns close to the rest of the men.
Dupont readied his weapon and was about to level it to fire when Aramis stopped him.
'No,' he said firmly taking Dupont by surprise, 'never put your finger on the trigger until you are ready to fire. You run the risk of firing the shot to early, you would miss your opportunity, at the very least and you could hit something or someone by accident.'
Dupont seemed annoyed at the telling off initially, which did not surprise Aramis as he was probably the only one who had not had cause to speak to him in such a way. He knew Athos had once shouted at him when he had come close to slicing another cadets throat during an early sparring session. And Porthos had been quite firm with him just a couple of hours ago.
After a few seconds, Dupont expression softened, 'sorry,' he said, 'it won't happen again.'
Aramis spent a few minutes guiding the young man. He noticed an improvement almost immediately. But when he had to again, admonish the youth for the way he handled the gun he could tell Dupont needed a few minutes to calm down.
'Why don't you practice on your own for a bit? I'll be back in half an hour.'
Dupont nodded, and turned back to face the targets. Aramis turned to go, he started to walk back towards the training ground. A shot rang out from behind him. Instantly he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He knew he had been shot.
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