A/N: Thank you Laureleaf, Uia, and Guest for your reviews! And to everyone else again! I'm glad you liked the start of this.
Chapter 2
After a day of housekeeping and the occasional client of her husband's coming to check on an order, Constance was finally able to pack a basket of food to take to Mabella's. She donned her cloak and hooked the basket over her arm, then stepped outside and locked her door. Turning to the square, she pulled up short in surprise when she spotted the musketeer Athos loitering by the well. In the light of day she could see his coat was blue and his hair brown with lighter tones. The pauldron on his shoulder was a clear emblem of his rank in the Musketeer Guard.
Constance glanced around to see if he could perchance be waiting for anyone else, but no one seemed to pay him any mind. She walked over. "Monsieur Athos," she greeted.
"Madame Bonacieux." His gaze flicked down to the basket on her arm. "You are going to visit your sick friend?"
"Yes," she said uncertainly.
He nodded. "I'll walk with you."
"Oh, you really don't have to…"
"Should you be there late, you'll require an escort home," he said in that same neutral tone.
Constance shifted in discomfort. "That's not necessary. There's plenty of time to get home before dark. I'm sure you have other musketeer duties to attend to."
"A musketeer's duty is to protect France, and that includes its citizens."
Constance really didn't feel she was worth the effort, especially for an errand as simple as this. But he seemed unlikely to budge on the matter, so she inclined her head in a nod of gratitude and they set off.
Once again, Athos was even less of a conversationalist than a horse. She might have thought his attention and motivations an attempt to flirt with her, except he wasn't even making an effort to fill the silence.
"I understand saving me last night," she spoke up. "But why care enough to come back today? You don't even know me."
"I saw a need and honor demands I attend to it."
He made it sound so…obligatory. Still, Constance supposed there must be some measure of kindness that he would bother at all.
"Not many would think that way," she remarked.
"Yes, well, honor is one of the few things I have left."
Constance didn't know what to say to that and so fell silent for the rest of the walk to Mabella's. When they arrived, Constance headed for the door but paused when Athos hung back.
"I'll wait outside," he said.
She felt awkward leaving him standing out there, but he had already moved off to go hover by the corner. She would just have to make this a quick visit.
Constance served up a plate of fresh food for Mabella and then set to cleaning the dishes from last night's meal. Unfortunately, the poor old woman was lonely and kept engaging Constance in conversation, asking about this and that, prattling on about this neighbor and that neighbor. It was probably for the best she hadn't invited Athos inside. Constance kept trying to extricate herself, but Mabella would exclaim she just remembered something important to tell her, which of course didn't end up being that important after all.
It was almost dusk when she was finally able to pull herself away. She was both surprised and yet not to find Athos still waiting, leaning against the wall as unbothered as ever. She began to wonder if anything fazed that man.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "Mabella can be quite chatty. I can probably get home on my own just before dark. You don't have to waste your time any longer."
Athos placed his hat upon his head, a strange look in his eye Constance couldn't quite identify but that had a morose glimmer to it. "If not escorting you, then I would be halfway into my cups." He paused. "There is plenty of the night left for the latter."
He moved off, something heavy and dolent in both his tone and demeanor. Constance felt an empathetic tug to reach out and offer…something. But she didn't know how nor if it would be accepted and so kept her peace.
Athos walked her to her front door. "Do you plan to return the next night?" he asked.
She almost said no to release him from this misguided sense of obligation, but found it difficult to lie under that inscrutable gaze. "Yes. Mabella's son won't be back for another day. I'll bring her enough tomorrow to tide her over until he returns."
Athos nodded. "I will see you then."
With a tip of his hat, he turned and walked off into the deepening gloaming.
Constance shook her head to herself; it was nice to know there were good men in the world.
o.0.o
Aramis moved along the shoreline, stepping as carefully and quietly as he could in the dark of night. A low quarter moon provided some illumination, amplified by the reflection off the water's surface. Unfortunately, the blessing of helping him navigate his way up the bank was also a curse, for it left him exposed.
A snap of a twig had him quickly crouching down among the reeds, swallowing a grunt as he cradled his arm close to his chest. His shoulder throbbed from where the pistol shot had hit, made worse for the ball still lodged in the muscle. On the upside, his dip in the frigid waters of the lake had slowed the bleeding. But it only traded one dire situation for another, as his clothes were cold and damp, not having had time to dry before the sun had set and he'd been shivering since crawling his way out of the water. A cough tickled his throat and he tried his best not to let it out lest it alert those searching for him.
Footsteps trampling the underbrush came closer.
"There's no sign of him," an angry voice snapped. "We've been searchin' over an hour."
"He couldn't possibly have survived," another said.
"No body means there's a chance."
Aramis recognized the third voice as the leader and forced himself to breathe shallowly.
"You two stay and find him. Krause and I will continue to Paris and proceed with the plan."
"Krause can't pass as a musketeer without the pauldron," the first rejoined.
"He'll be the envoy's valet."
"How will you explain the absence of the escort?"
"I'll think of something. You two just make sure that musketeer doesn't make it back to Paris."
Aramis waited for them to move off before he let out the breath he'd been holding. A wave of pain ripped from his shoulder down his arm and he gritted his teeth against making a sound. He didn't know what foul plots these men had in mind, but it could not be good. He had to warn the King.
But first he had to make it back alive. A feat whose odds were currently stacked against him. He had one pistol clipped to his belt, but it was waterlogged and useless. His cartridge packets, likewise, were ruined. He'd lost his sword in the fall. He also had no idea what had happened to the German envoy and he needed to find out.
He waited a little bit longer to make sure the area was clear before pulling himself back to his feet and slogging up the slope to make his way back to the path in the woods. Perhaps the attackers hadn't expected that from him, because he didn't encounter them.
Stumbling over his own two feet, Aramis picked his way under the shadowed trees until he found the scene of the ambush. The envoy and his valet were both dead, stripped down to their underclothes and left where they were slain. The horses were gone, as were the German's papers and signet ring. With those, the imposters could gain entrance to the palace and an audience directly with the King.
Aramis rocked back onto his haunches as another wave of pain pulsed out from his shoulder. He had no means of properly tending to it, and the wound would slow him down. Not to mention he would not get far in the dark on foot, but he had to try to reach Paris before those men did, assuming they didn't ride through the night without stopping.
He untied his wet sash from his waist and wound it around his shoulder, taking one end in his teeth and the other in one hand, tightening it as best he could. He could only hope the dampness in his shoulder was just water and not fresh blood. He shivered, the cold piercing down to his bones. He would have to keep moving to stave off succumbing to it.
Mustering his strength, Aramis heaved himself to his feet and set off, keeping to the trees for cover though it hampered his speed. But there were still men out there intent on killing him, and the fate of France rested in him not letting them succeed.
o.0.o
Morning broke all too soon as it did every day, dragging Athos from the blessed oblivion of drunken sleep. He pushed himself off his stomach to sit up, knocking against a corked bottle of wine discarded on the mattress. He snatched it up and took a long swig, the tepid liquid sloshing down to his precarious stomach. In a moment it would settle, as would the ache behind his eyes. The physical pain always subsided to give way to the one in his heart. He drank to forget, to numb that fierce void in his soul, but it never failed to return come morning.
His duty as a musketeer saw him through the waking hours, gave him a reason to haul himself out of the squalor of his own misery. It sustained him, and without it he would have drank himself into the Seine a long time ago.
His life was a tenuous tug-of-war between the demons of his own making and the core values that had created them.
He heaved himself up and over to the window, pulling in the bucket that'd been filled that morning by his landlady. It was icy cold, but dunking his head inside it served to banish the last lingering effects of the previous night's drinking. Startlingly awake now, Athos stretched out his stiff joints and donned his coat and uniform, then made his way to the Musketeer garrison.
He came upon the captain on his way out.
"I've been summoned to the palace on a matter of the utmost urgency," Treville told him, sounding annoyed.
"What matter?" Athos asked.
"I wasn't told."
Athos turned on his heel to accompany him. He'd become Treville's unofficial lieutenant, a responsibility that added further weight to the tether that kept him functioning when the alcohol wore off.
They made their way to the palace and were directed to one of the many receiving rooms to see the King. The Cardinal and another man were also in attendance.
"I am most disappointed, Treville," Louis said the moment they walked in.
Treville slowed to a stop. "Your Majesty?"
"One of your musketeers was tasked with escorting the German envoy to Paris, was he not?"
Athos's back straightened. When Louis started referring to his own musketeers as the captain's, it meant he was displeased. Aramis was the escort, and Athos knew he was due to have been back yesterday, but there could be any number of reasons to explain the delay.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Treville replied. "Aramis is one of my best men. I'm sure they will arrive within the day."
"The envoy has arrived, and the musketeer has deserted!" Louis exclaimed, gesturing sharply to the third man in the room.
Treville faltered, a confused frown pinching his face. "Your Majesty?"
The German envoy cleared his throat. "Your escort met me and my valet at the border as arranged, but yesterday abruptly abandoned us in the woods, making off with half our coin."
Treville shot a look at Athos, whose jaw tightened at the allegation.
"There must be some explanation," Treville replied.
"Perhaps a thief robbed you and Aramis went after him," Athos put in. Someone could have followed them from a village, attracted by the envoy's finer garments, and robbed them in the night. But even so, Aramis should have caught up with the Germans shortly after dealing with the situation.
The envoy drew his shoulders back. "My valet saw him take the gold."
Athos narrowed his eyes on the man. "Then he misinterpreted what he saw. A musketeer is not a thief."
"Are you accusing the German envoy of lying?" Cardinal Richelieu interjected sharply.
Athos pressed his lips into a thin line. "No. I am suggesting his valet is confused about what transpired."
"There was no one else along the road," the envoy broke in firmly. "I understand you would seek to defend the honor of your company, but this man is a thief and a disgrace."
"Agreed," Richelieu said earnestly.
Athos clenched his fists at the obvious glee on the Cardinal's face over these accusations against a musketeer.
Richelieu turned toward the King. "Your Majesty, dereliction of duty is a serious enough charge, but robbing a foreign emissary amounts to treason. Should this musketeer Aramis show his face in Paris, he must be arrested and thrown in the Bastille to await sentence."
Louis nodded and turned a disappointed moue on Treville. "I trust you will hand out those orders."
"Your Majesty, an investigation should be conducted before such charges are laid out."
"If the musketeer is apprehended, he can be interrogated," the Cardinal replied smoothly.
A muscle in Treville's jaw ticked, but as much as he may have wanted to argue, he could not stand against His Majesty's orders. He nodded stiffly.
"Good," Louis said and turned to the envoy. "My apologies for this dreadful business."
Taking that as a dismissal, Treville pivoted on his heel and marched out of the room. Athos followed. Once outside in the courtyard, he grabbed the captain's arm to halt him.
"Aramis would never commit the actions he's been accused of."
"I know that," Treville hissed. "But he's not here to defend himself."
"Then something happened to him. And the envoy is either behind it or he thinks spinning this story will somehow gain him something in the trade negotiations."
Treville narrowed his eyes and glanced around to make sure they weren't being overheard. "What reason could the Germans possibly have for either?"
"I don't know." And Athos frankly didn't care. "But I will not stand by and let them tarnish Aramis's name."
"The Cardinal would have likely given the Red Guard orders to arrest Aramis already," Treville pointed out. "And I have no choice but to pass the orders on as well."
Athos nodded. He understood the captain's position. "Give me and Porthos a head start to find him first."
Treville huffed out a breath. "And where will you look?"
"Assuming the envoy's story about Aramis being with them until yesterday is true, he should not be that far out from the city. And if he's able, he will try to make his way back here. I know which route he would have taken."
Treville nodded grimly. "I'll give you some leeway, but I won't be able to hold back the Cardinal if you're caught aiding and abetting him."
"Understood."
Treville gripped Athos's elbow hard. "Find proof of whatever this plot is, and Aramis."
Athos inclined his head and turned toward the gate, marching out with the force of his purpose and urgency. He would fetch Porthos, and then they would make haste to go after their brother.
