CHAPTER 1
The room may have had a dual aspect but the light provided failed to permeate the shadowy corners. Heavy, dark wood furniture that consisted primarily of a large desk and a huge cupboard used for storing parchment scrolls and leather-bound volumes added to the sense of gloom. Serving both as an office and sleeping quarters - the latter area sectioned off by a room divider of wrought iron - the place was unmistakably masculine, functional and the working domain of the man who now stood at one of those windows, arm outstretched with the hand on the frame bearing his weight as he stared unseeing at the view beyond the glass. Treville, Captain of the King's Musketeers, was a man of few words and a measured temper, unless the situation required otherwise and right now he was troubled, lost in his thoughts. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and undid the top button of his doublet. The day was balmy and not uncomfortable but he felt hot, stifled; his turmoil threatened to smother him.
Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he heard the booted footsteps on the wooden staircase, the familiar tread approaching along the balcony and coming to a halt on the other side of the door. A knock sounded. Treville took a deep breath to steady the rapid beating of his heart. Once that door was opened and his man entered, he would quite probably be setting in motion a train of events the outcome of which was impossible to foresee.
"Enter," he commanded. The door creaked open and he chastised himself at the sound as he had been meaning to have the annoyance corrected for the past two days. How could he have been so remiss? He made a mental note to himself to have it sorted; there was still time as it was not within his nature to leave a task incomplete.
"You asked to see me, Captain." The voice behind him was low and rich, the syllables clipped.
Composed once more, Treville turned and smiled at the musketeer who stood to one side of the chair placed carefully before the desk. Treville gestured towards it. "Sit."
Athos looked at the chair as if he had not quite understood the invitation and then glanced at the empty place by the wall where the chair usually stood. There were exceptionally few occasions when a musketeer sat within the office in the presence of his captain and only, as far as Athos could recall, when it prefaced something generally serious.
"Sit, Athos," Treville repeated and, as if to set an example, he dropped into his own seat, nodding in approval as the musketeer did as requested although, Treville noted, the man sat on the chair's edge, back ramrod straight, hands resting lightly on his knees.
"The King wishes me to ride to Normandy to have talks with the Comte d'Arrentière who is currently behaving in a somewhat contrary manner. I am to discern whether or not he poses a more disloyal concern," he sighed. "I do so hate the machinations of diplomacy."
Athos' mind began automatically checking off a list of arrangements in readiness for the departure of a contingent of musketeers. Having been party to such planning on countless occasions, it was like second nature to him. "I'll make preparation. When do we leave?" With so much to do, he fleetingly wondered why he had been invited to sit down; it had never happened before to receive orders.
Treville gave a thin smile that did not reach his eyes and it did not go unnoticed by the other man. Was that a hint of sadness on the Captain's face? Of regret even?
"You misunderstand me, Athos. You will not be going with me."
Athos successfully masked the disappointment he felt for it was not often these days that Treville led a mission far from the Paris garrison and the opportunity to ride again alongside the man he revered would have been most welcome. Treville's role as Captain of the King's musketeers was to command and delegate and his presence at court was a daily expectation but when he was required to venture forth, Athos and his friends always accompanied him. It had been so for almost as long as Athos could remember. Treville himself had coined their name as his Inseparables: Athos, Aramis and Porthos and then, when the youngster burst into their lives, d'Artagnan, who quickly and successfully wormed his way into the close-knit trio. The three had subsequently become four in an even tighter unit bound by brotherhood, friendship, loyalty and honour. Yes, there were the occasions when they were deployed individually or in pairs but not for an operation of this nature. Was that about to change? He swiftly made the inevitable assumption.
"As well as Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan, how many more men will you be taking?"
"They will remain with you," Treville asserted. "Six men will accompany me. We will leave this afternoon and I anticipate that we should return within fourteen days."
"Only six? But that route has been fraught with danger in recent months and then, if Arrentière is the problem as suggested, you should have more men."
"I do not intend arriving with anything that might be construed as a small army. Besides, Richelieu has also asked that I make a slight detour on the return journey to deliver papers on his behalf to the monastery of Saint Michel, about a day's ride from Paris. The brothers there will not be able to accommodate a large number of men." He noted the frown that crossed Athos' face and awaited the protest.
"If you do not mind my saying so, Captain, that is but a poor excuse. The troop will have been camping out for several nights en route, one more outside a monastery will make little difference."
Treville sighed patiently, having expected just such an observation "I have made my decision." The tone in his voice indicated that he would brook no argument and Athos sensibly recognised that fact.
"I will pick the six men for you and inform them then," he offered instead and made as if to stand but his movement was stayed by Treville's next pronouncement.
"I have already made my selection: Marchamps, Bonet, Barrand, Carnelle, Surlin and Vallons." He waited for the loud objection that his words would initiate and it was almost immediate.
"What?" Athos could not believe what he was hearing and he certainly could not recall another time when his Captain had apparently picked so unwisely. The man was a seasoned soldier with years of campaigning and leadership behind him that had made him an obvious choice to command the newly formed regiment that was the dream of a young King Louis in 1622. In the intervening years, he had rigorously and enthusiastically set about shaping and moulding his men into a skilled, efficient fighting force. Such success was not the natural result of strange judgements such as this one. "They are inexperienced musketeers, untried and untested. Bonet and Vallons have only just received their commissions and are newer than d'Artagnan."
"Who was, as I recall, actively in the field with you, Aramis and Porthos long before he was commissioned," Treville pointed out.
"But that was different." Even as the words came out of his mouth, Athos knew he sounded more like a petulant boy than a rational soldier and his cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Treville crossed his arms and pretended not to have noticed as he asked. "How so?"
Athos thought quickly. "D'Artagnan was with us, learning from us. Combine the others you named and they do not have the experience of any one of us."
Treville raised an eyebrow quizzically. "As you have been an integral part of their training these past months, are you now saying that you doubt the level and success of your own instruction?"
"You twist my meaning." An edge of exasperation crept into Athos' voice; the discussion was not going as he expected.
"Then what do you mean?"
"I repeat, they are untried and untested. My concern, Captain, is that you put yourself into unnecessary danger by having men with you who have not been put through the pressures of an attack."
"Why should there be an attack? After all, this is a diplomatic mission to Normandy and an errand to a monastery."
"You are forgetting the numerous reports of attacks along that route."
"I'm not forgetting anything. There were the attacks and musketeers were dispatched to deal with the perpetrators," Trevilled insisted. "There have been no further reports for a while now so that it can be safely assumed that the 'fraught dangers' of which you speak are no more."
"We do not know that for certain, Captain, and I hope I am wrong but that diplomatic mission may not be as straightforward as you think likely. All I ask is that you have some musketeers with you that have seen battle," Athos persisted. To the uninitiated, he exuded a calm, quiet stillness but Treville saw the tightening of the facial muscles, indicators of his controlled frustration.
"Your concern is appreciated and duly noted but my mind is made up, especially about why you are to remain." The Captain rose from his seat and came round the desk to perch on its edge in front of the young man who watched him with an unwavering level of intensity.
"You will take over command of the musketeers," Treville announced.