Force of Nature

Chapter Two

They mustered just before dawn. During the night there had been no respite from the wind and rain so they were all quickly soaked to the skin and shivering. Athos left two cadets to guard the garrison, departing with three Musketeers and twelve cadets. He knew they had a herculean task ahead of them. Even with fully fledged Musketeers it would be difficult. With half-trained boys it was next to impossible.

Evidence of flooding was everywhere during their journey. Many people were brushing water out of their homes in a futile effort to preserve them. They barely looked up as the Musketeers passed by, being fully occupied battling what was turning into a real force of nature.

A line of wagons and carriages waited outside the main entrance to the Louvre. The Queen and Dauphin were standing just inside the main doorway looking out at the storm. Athos and the others bowed and were acknowledged with a tired smile from the Queen.

"I hear you and your men are to guard the palace."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"I will miss my Musketeer escort."

Her eyes flickered to the side and Athos knew she was looking at Aramis. He suppressed the urge to sigh. Four years apart appeared to have done nothing to lessen the attraction. "Captain Marcheaux and his men will keep you safe." His reassurances sounded hollow to him. Marcheaux was a bully and a coward and his men weren't much better.

"I know they will, Captain."

Treville hurried down a hallway to greet them. He looked them over critically but could hardly take issue with their bedraggled appearance. "All sensitive papers have been removed. Your job is to protect the art work and furnishings."

Athos inclined his head. "I understand."

Treville moved closer and lowered his voice. "Hopefully there won't be any trouble. The people will have other concerns if the Seine bursts its banks."

"There is already flooding in the streets. The clean up when this is all over will be extensive. I would like the Musketeers to help as much as possible. Show the townsfolk that someone cares about their welfare."

The Minister frowned at the implied rebuke. "The King is much distracted by the war."

"I meant no disrespect to His Majesty. My remarks pertained to Governor Feron and the Red Guard."

"Stay out of politics, Athos. I will handle Feron."

There was a commotion at the bottom of the staircase as the King and the Marquis de Feron descended. Feron moved slowly, leaning heavily on his stick and the King kept pace with him looking concerned.

"Are you sure you're well enough to undertake this journey, Philippe?"

"It will be difficult, Sire, but I will endure."

"You should stay here. There will be servants who can look after you."

"My place is at your side."

"Not at the expense of your health."

Feron was clearly in great pain but it was the King who commanded Athos' attention. Louis looked less than well, appearing pale and subdued. Athos put it down to the strain of potentially watching the palace flood. It was well known that this was Louis' favourite residence. His thoughts turned to the thousands of other people who would be in a similar predicament, none of whom had the luxury of packing up and moving.

The King and Governor reached the ground floor and Louis reached over to pat Feron on the arm. "Stay here, Philippe. We will manage without you, although you will be missed."

"As you wish. Safe journey."

Athos could see the relief on Feron's face and also a hint of something he didn't recognise. The two men locked eyes for a few seconds before Feron turned away with a tight smile. Athos gestured to his men to stand back as Treville held out an arm to the Queen.

"Let me escort you to your carriage, Majesty."

The Queen gave a gracious nod and took hold of the Dauphin's hand. Once she and her son were settled the King bade Treville join him in his carriage. Athos walked outside, sheltering under the portico and watching the Red Guard take their positions. He caught Marcheaux's eye briefly, noting with irritation the smug look the Captain gave him. The Red Guard had been given the honour of protecting the King while the Musketeers were left guarding an almost empty palace. It left a bad taste in his mouth.

Once the convoy had gone Athos looked around at his men. "Porthos. Aramis. Stay here. The rest of you come with me."

There were numerous entrances to the Louvre and Athos didn't have enough men to guard them all. That meant he would need a mobile patrol as well. He paired up the cadets, leaving them at strategic points throughout the building. Then, with d'Artagnan by his side, he began the laborious task of walking around the vast edifice, checking the other doors.

"I still don't understand why the Red Guard weren't given this task," d'Artagnan said as they took a short cut through the throne room.

"I suspect it was Feron's doing."

The windows rattled in their frames as they were battered by the wind and rain.

"I don't imagine many people will even realise the King has left."

"There are always those who find a way to take advantage of a disaster."

"You're thinking about Grimaud again."

Athos glanced at his companion. "He has already tried to break into the vault. How much easier would it be to steal from an empty palace?"

"Not entirely empty. Many of the servants were left behind and Feron is still here."

"The servants would not risk their lives and it wouldn't surprise me if Feron were in league with Grimaud."

"This obsession isn't healthy, Athos. We only have rumours that Grimaud is involved in the various criminal enterprises that seem to be plaguing the city. We barely even know what he looks like. Porthos only got a glimpse of him at the funeral for the soldiers Gaston killed."

"Yet his name keeps cropping up. This is a dangerous man, d'Artagnan. He might live in the shadows but his reach is felt everywhere."

They were approaching the main entrance where they had left Porthos and Aramis. The marksman turned quickly, his pistol raised when he heard their footsteps. He lowered it with a grimace.

"Next time announce yourselves," he groused.

"Aramis is feelin' jumpy," Porthos said with a grin.

"I am not! I am merely on my guard."

Athos peered outside. It was impossible to see more than a couple of feet in front of him. They could be overrun before even realising that an enemy was there. "Just don't get complacent," he warned. "We have a long day ahead of us."

TMTMTM

Grimaud stood under the inadequate shelter of an ancient oak tree, his gaze directed toward the palace. He could barely make out the outline of the building through the driving rain. He pulled his cloak tighter around his body before catching hold of his hood when a gust of wind threated to blow it from his head. His men were waiting for him at a nearby tavern and he knew he should get out of the ferocious weather in order to give them their instructions. Still he stood, staring ahead and wondering what Athos was doing. He had watched the Musketeers arrive, counting them carefully. Sixteen men. No, he corrected himself, four men and twelve boys. He had thirty-five seasoned fighters. Some had served in the army only to desert when they realised they were nothing more than cannon fodder. Others had made their reputations on the streets. Each one had been promised a bounty for every Musketeer and cadet killed or seriously maimed.

He had made it his business to learn the whereabouts of every entrance to the building. There were fifteen access points in all. He didn't think Athos would split his men up that much which meant that some would be unguarded. If they could identify which he could sneak men inside to get behind the Musketeer lines. Would Athos anticipate an attack from inside the building? He wasn't willing to underestimate the Captain having seen him fight outside Douai. The man was an expert in the art of war and that was what this was. A war. One that Grimaud was determined to win.

The conflict with Spain had made him rich. Feron's failing body had given him power. The Governor relied on him for the opium that alleviated his suffering. But, more than that, he had become a confidante and advisor. To have the power to direct the Governor of Paris was intoxicating. It had brought him wealth and infamy. He was the true ruler of the city. All had been going so well until he encountered the Musketeers in the monastery. They had deprived him of a handsome payday from the Spanish and he wasn't going to forgive them for that. Since their return to the city they had thwarted him on more than one occasion. Their interference had to be brought to an end and, today, that was exactly what was going to happen.

Tbc