CHAPTER 2

Whatever Athos thought Treville had been about to say, command of the musketeers was not it and he was immediately on the defensive. "Me? But there are others far more suited to the responsibility."

"Name one."

"Pascal," the name came readily off his tongue.

"A hot head and yes," Treville continued as he saw Athos cynically raise an eyebrow, "I know that you have your moments but at least I know they are well-intentioned."

"Duprés then."

"He does not have the respect of the men," Treville countered immediately.

"Remy has the seniority ," Athos insisted.

"In years, I grant you," the Captain responded. "I have a feeling that he is even older than me but he does not have the strategic ability."

"Why would strategy be needed in Paris when you are gone for two weeks at most?"

Mon Dieu but he was sharp! Treville knew he had to be careful about what he said, conscious that he did not want to tell any deliberate lies to the man he was intending to leave in command of the musketeers but reluctantly aware that it might become a necessity if Athos continued to probe.

"More than likely there will be no need for strategy," he patiently explained, "but I would be failing in my responsibility if I did not plan for all eventualities."

Athos remained undeterred. "Delacroix then."

"A fool!"

Athos blinked hard at Treville's criticism. He had rarely heard the Captain be so openly negative about one of his own men.

The Captain went on, "He may have the skills and experience and hails from a minor noble family but he is shallow, self-centred and a social climber. He would use increased access to the court as a means to an end, namely his own. Besides, I am only too aware of the animosity that exists between the two of you ..."

"But if you were to make him acting captain, you know that I would accept his command," Athos interrupted.

Treville looked at him long and hard. "Actually, I believe you would, if reluctantly, but I think he would make decisions of which you would not approve and it would create additional tension between you."

"You think he would easily follow my command instead?"

"Not for a moment. I think he will go out of his way to make things very difficult for you but I trust in your ability to manage him and remain detached rather than he is to manage you objectively." Treville looked Athos in the eyes to make his next pronouncement exceedingly clear; he had to make the troubled younger man understand how he was regarded. "This is one decision that did not take me long in the making. You know that I have long looked upon you as my second, albeit in an unofficial capacity. This provides the opportunity to put it on a more formal setting. I have already informed His Majesty. What say you?"

Athos maintained eye contact as he spoke. "I am honoured and will do all in my power not to let you down."

"The only way you could let me down would be to turn me down."

"Then I pray that I will not be a disappointment to you. I admit that some of my decision making in recent months has not ..." His voice trailed off.

Treville reached forward and laid a hand reassuringly on Athos' shoulder. "Much has happened to you in that time, I agree, and you have been sorely tested but I have witnessed you wrestle with and overcome everything. I am sure that I would not be the first person to tell you to cease doubting yourself. Mayhap this increase in responsibility has come at an advantageous time. We have just talked of others facing personal tests; now you face another, one to be viewed in a positive light. Rest assured, there is no-one else in the musketeers that I would trust more to command them." He gripped Athos' shoulder tighter.

"I thank you... but I would be failing my duty in that new responsibility if I did not stress that I would be happier if you would only reconsider and take the others with you, or at least one of them. Porthos, perhaps."

"No, Athos, they all remain with you. If you're taking care of my men, then I need to know that there are those whom I can depend upon to take care of you." Treville studied the face before him; the curling fringe only partially concealing the brow creased in puzzlement as the words were assimilated; eyes narrowed as, behind them, a plethora of turbulent thoughts waged their own war. In the years he had known the musketeer, Treville recognised the signs and was prepared to wait patiently; it would not take long as Athos, the thinker, contemplated all angles. It took mere seconds; the features relaxed momentarily and then the guard went up. Green eyes met his and there was an almost imperceptible dip of the head in acquiescence.

Treville cleared his throat, patted the younger man's shoulder in appreciation and straightened up. "There is much to do before I depart, not least some letters to write." He moved around the desk to resume his seat and picked up his quill pen.

Athos took that as a dismissal and rose to his feet. "I'll inform the men, advise the armourer for ammunition, give orders for the mounts, ensure that medical supplies are packed and arrange provisions from the stores. Is there anything else you wish me to do?"

Treville gave a wry smile at the immediate confirmation of his appropriate choice of leader. "No, I think that just about covers everything."

Athos gave a slight nod in deference and turned towards the door but urgency in Treville's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Wait, I almost forgot." He reached into a drawer and retrieved a large bunch of keys. Coming to his feet again, he crossed the room to the musketeer. Taking Athos' right hand, he held it palm upward and laid the keys across it. Without letting go, he looked at Athos directly with a fierce intensity. "Make sure you familiarise yourself with the locks for all these keys."

"I will," Athos replied, suddenly discomforted by Treville's unwavering stare.

"All of them." He stressed the word 'all'. "You understand me?"

"Yes, Captain." He frowned, his breathing shallow and quick as a mantle of tension shrouded them both.

It was over as swiftly as it began. Treville released his hold, turned and strode briskly back to the desk. He did not glance in Athos' direction any more. "That is all. I shall inform the garrison of your command just before I leave."

Athos hesitated but recognised that he had been summarily dismissed when Treville dipped the nib of the quill into the ink bottle and prepared to write. Leaving the office, he shut the door quietly and stood perplexed on the balcony. Familiar voices drifted up from the table immediately at the bottom of the stairs and he knew his friends were waiting for him to join them, eager to know why he had been summoned and expecting it to be information relating to a new mission. They could never envisage what this one involved.

A deep belly laugh from Porthos and a spluttering from d'Artagnan suggested that something Aramis had announced was the cause of their mirth but their attention immediately came to him as he descended the stairs. D'Artagnan jumped to his feet to greet his mentor and vacate the seat at the head of the table. Before resettling himself further down a side bench, the youngest musketeer in the group of friends had poured a cup of wine and handed it to Athos as Aramis pushed a plate of bread and cold meats in his direction also.

"Eat," urged Porthos, "and tell us what's going on."

Athos took a mouthful of smooth red wine and picked up a slice of meat, not really hungry but using the time it took to chew the piece to absorb what had transpired in Treville's office.

"So, what are we going to be doing?" d'Artagnan demanded. The young man hated any inactivity and had been like a hound straining at the leash from early morning when the Captain had refrained from putting the four friends on any duty roster for the day and now Athos understood why.

"Not much," Athos announced, concentrating on pulling some stringy fat from the meat but fully aware of the exchange of glances around him. "Correction; I am preparing for Treville to lead a group of six musketeers on a two week mission leaving this afternoon and you three are going to do some physical training with the newest recruits."

"And we're not going with him?" Aramis objected. He, too, had assumed that their place would be beside their Captain.

"Not this time," Athos confirmed.

"We're just left behind training recruits and doing palace duty?" Porthos growled, a scowl darkening his features in stark contrast to his levity minutes beforehand.

"Not quite," Athos paused for dramatic effect and looked at each of his friends in turn. "You are tasked with watching my back whilst I command the garrison."

The ensuing stunned silence was short-lived as d'Artagnan let out a whoop of delight, Aramis clapped Athos repeatedly on the back in a hearty congratulation and Porthos moved in to give him a bear hug. As order resumed, they enthusiastically clamoured for more information and Athos delivered an abbreviated version of what had transpired in the office, holding back instinctively on some of the points that filled him with an inexplicable unease.

"You don't seem very happy about it," d'Artagnan observed eventually.

"I am," Athos tried to convince them but Aramis, ever one to gauge his friend's brooding nature, shook his head.

"But? Your voice includes a very definite 'but'," he pushed.

There was a long pause before Athos spoke again, his voice soft and worried, his eyes fixed on the wooden table top. "Something is wrong, very wrong."

"What d'you mean?" Porthos asked incredulously. The elation at Athos' initial news quickly dissipated as he saw the apprehension in his friend. "How can it be wrong? The Captain's leaving for two weeks and put you in charge. 'Bout time too, if you ask me." In Porthos' mind, he genuinely believed that his friend fully deserved the recognition, even though for a short time, and did not understand the subsequent reservation that seemed to be eating away at him.

"What is it?" asked d'Artagnan. "What's bothering you?"

"I cannot explain it but there was something wrong in Treville's demeanour, the way he behaved, some of the things he said ..." As his words trailed off at the memory, his face betraying his concern, he looked round at his three friends.

When he spoke again, the pain in his voice was unmistakable. "I have a feeling that Treville does not expect to come back."