Well here we are, next chapter. Thank you fariedragon and Team-Jazz for the reviews.

I don't own the Musketeers, Clara however is mine.

"What happened?" Athos had sat Clara at the table and the others, including Captain Treville had gathered round, curious about this girl and the uncharacteristic tenderness she seemed to inspire in their friend. She looked across at where he stood, dipping a cloth into a bowl of water.

"There's a group of men who come to the village, they steal things, food mostly. If anybody tries to stop them then they kill them." She flinched as Athos brushed the cut on her cheek with the cloth.

"Don't be a baby." His admonishment was gentle. She glared sideways at him but did not move again as he tended to her injury. "When did this start?"

"About a year after you left. They started raiding the storehouses at night; then they grew more bold and started coming during the day." She paused for a moment. "They've grown more cruel, too."

"How so?" Athos had finished bathing the cut and now stood with his arms folded across his chest.

"They only used to hurt anyone who tried to stop them, but not anymore, they and their leader have become more brutal and vicious with each raid."

"And does he have a name, this leader?"

"Bertrand."

Treville looked across at Athos; as soon as the girl had mentioned the name of the leader, the musketeers' hands clenched into fists against his arms and his jaw was clenched in anger. In that moment he made a decision and rose from the bench.

"Athos." The captain knew that he did not have to say anything else. He turned and made his way up the stairs to his office. Athos looked at Clara once more before following the captain.

In his office Treville turned to Athos, watching him carefully.

"What's going on?" He saw Athos take a deep breath as though gathering his thoughts.

"Clara lives in one of the villages on what used to be my estates. I banished the man attacking the village."

"And you want to help her." It wasn't a question; Treville could see what was in the other mans' thoughts.

"Her plight is my doing. You saw the mark they left her, it could have been worse and next time it might be." His voice was steady, as always but his eyes showed pain and guilt. Treville sighed.

"Alright, I can spare you for a few days. Take the others and go and deal with this." Treville raised an eyebrow as Athos' shoulders stiffened. "What?"

"Sir, with all due respect, I can deal with this. I don't need them to come with me."

"Athos, you may be the best swordsman in the regiment but even you can't deal with a group of bandits on your own." Treville knew there was a reason for this request; Athos wasn't stupid or prone to ridiculous displays of bravado.

Athos wrestled with himself, he didn't want to explain his reasons but he knew he had to give the captain something. After a moment he came to a decision. Telling the captain was better than the alternative.

"Sir, they already know more than I would wish about my past. I would rather they did not have the chance to find out any more." Treville sighed, as the captain he probably knew more about Athos than the other musketeers but he would be the first to admit that he knew very little about the man. After a moment longer he sighed again and nodded.

"Alright, you can go on your own. Just don't do anything stupid." Relief showed clearly in Athos' eyes as he nodded his thanks and left.

While Athos had been talking to Treville, the others had sat in silence, each with an eye on the girl. She sat quietly, gazing into the cup of water that had been given to her.

Out of the corner of his eye, Aramis studied her. She was attractive certainly; dark hair fell in ruffled waves down her back and the dark bruise across her cheek only highlighted how pale her skin was, like marble. He wondered who she was, he reckoned her to be in her early twenties so she was certainly old enough to be Athos' mistress. But then again, he had never known Athos to have a mistress and he had certainly not greeted her like one.

Porthos looked at the girl as she stared into her cup, there was an air of sadness about her and something in her eyes spoke of loss. He had seen looks like that in the Court of Miracles; the desperate look of people who had lost everything and had only sadness left. But if he was right, this girl hadn't lost everything just yet.

D'Artagnan gazed at the girl, studying the bruise on her cheek and remembering Athos' reaction to it. This bruise looked to have been caused by a violent backhanded blow; they had all seen women with similar bruises before, violent husbands were all too common. Although a mark on a woman angered them all as it should all men of honour, this was different. The rage in the elder musketeer's eyes had spoken of something far deeper than just a man of honour.

The sound of a door opening and footsteps on the stairs pulled them all from their thoughts and Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan looked up as Athos came back down the stairs. They all had questions in their eyes.

"Athos..." Aramis stood.

"You three." Treville appeared at the top of the stairs. "My office, now. Athos, go, you leave tomorrow."

Athos nodded and offered his hand to Clara; she took it and with a last look at the others, followed him from the courtyard.

Treville paced back and forth for a moment before turning to face the three men, his frustration obvious. They knew better than to provoke him and stood straight and still, waiting for him to speak.

"Athos is going back with the girl to deal with these bandits, he leaves tomorrow."

"Not on his own?" Aramis frowned.

"He insisted."

"Then he's an idiot." Porthos crossed his arms as the captain glared at him.

"And that is why you three are going to follow him when he leaves. Give him half a day and stay out of sight."

"But if he doesn't want us to go with him..." D'Artagnan paused.

"I don't care what he wants; if he does this then he's going to get himself killed. Just keep him out of trouble." The captain paused. "Go and see him first, try and convince him to let you go. Don't be surprised if he says no; he's not himself." He turned away, dismissing them and they filed out of the room.

Athos had led Clara through the streets of Paris to his lodgings. He had seen the small frown when she had spotted the empty bottles next to his bed and the bucket of water on the ledge ready to freeze. She had a small satchel with her which she had set down and now her dark eyes followed him as he paced back and forth, waiting for him to speak.

"Why didn't you come to me earlier? I told you to find me if you needed anything." He was angry, more at himself than her but also at the monster that had terrified and marked her.

"Mama forbade it; she said you wouldn't want to come back and we shouldn't bother you. Every time they raided I asked her again and every time she said no. She stopped me coming to see you when you came back before."

"So why now?" He watched as her eyes filled with pain. When she spoke, her voice was quiet.

"Because on the last raid they ensured that I would no longer have to ask her."

"Not your mother?" She nodded sadly and Athos sat down heavily on the chair. He was horrified; Clara's mother had always treated him as though he was her own and he had left her to be murdered.

He heard Clara's soft footfalls as she moved across the room and felt her gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault."

"How can you say that? I left you." He rose and started to pace the room again. She stood and watched him.

"You didn't set them on us and you couldn't have known what would happen." Her tone stopped him pacing and he looked at her. She stood with her arms folded and a no nonsense expression on her face, just as her mother had once done. "You didn't start this so stop torturing yourself and start thinking about what to do."

"I may not have started it, but I intend to finish it."