Javier and Aramis entered the tent and were surprised to see two other men also standing awkwardly in front of the General's desk.
"It's about time the two of you joined us. Apparently a command from your General isn't a high priority for you," Marchand said peevishly. Javier scowled and Aramis bit his cheek to keep himself silent. His dark eyes flashed dangerously.
Marchand glowered at the men as he looked down his nose at them. He sipped his glass of wine and picked at the fruit and cheese laid out on the corner of his desk as the men awaited his instructions. When he had sufficiently lorded his opulence over them, the aristocratic general regarded his men.
"I have chosen you four to complete a special mission for the Crown," he said. "You haven't been chosen for any particular skill or because you're particularly good soldiers. You've been selected because you've survived, and because at least one of your parents carried the mud of the Spanish in their veins," he said and sipped his wine arrogantly. "You will be sent to infiltrate a troop of Spaniards camped on French lands. There are rumours of a ship carrying weapons to support our enemies expected to make landfall. Confirm this and stop it," said the General with a careless wave of his hand.
The men were silent as they stared at their commander.
"How do you expect us to do that?" muttered one man finally.
"I don't know," said the General, annoyed at being so casually addressed by the man. "They have a camp not far from here," he said pushing a map across the table. "Find it, and assume a place among their ranks. Learn what you can of this ship, and return with that information. Get them to trust you. If you are captured, the Crown will deny any knowledge of you. If you kill any Frenchmen, you will be hanged as traitors," he callously said.
"You expect us to spy for you?" the same man asked after another long moment of silence.
"Is the country you serve not worth that? Besides, I believe that lies and the unsavoury are the hallmarks of your kind," Marchard replied malevolently.
Javier was just about ready to strike the General, but Aramis subtly touched the man's wrist.
"Where is the ship expected to make landfall?" he asked, stepping forward and taking the map from the General's desk.
"If I knew that, I wouldn't need you. Honestly, how have you survived so long being so ignorant?" he asked. Aramis said nothing but his eyes burned.
"Sir," said the fourth man, raising his hand. "I was raised in an orphanage. I didn't know my parents. I don't speak the language, sir," he stammered.
"Pity. I suggest you learn quickly," he said as he refilled his glass.
The man paled and Aramis stepped forward again. "Sir, if this mission is to succeed, you need to excuse this man. His inability to converse will jeopardize everything."
"Perhaps you think you'll be able to do this on your own, do you?" Marchand asked, his eye glaring at Aramis.
"He won't be alone, sir," said Javier moving forward to stand next to Aramis. "I'll go with him."
"Me as well," said the third.
"Very well," said the General with a resigned sigh. "Gather your things. You are to set out in the morning."
oOo
Aramis and Javier were grim as they returned to camp and began packing their things.
"What happened?" asked Gaston, his eyes darkening with concern.
Javier said nothing, so with a sigh Aramis said, "They're sending us out as spies."
"What? Why?"
"Because we have Spanish blood. We're to try to infiltrate some Spanish troops and determine when and whether a ship bearing weapons to aid our enemy will make landfall in France," he said as he violently shoved his few items into his bag.
"How many men is he sending?" Gaston asked, his mind reeling as he tried to understand the insanity of these orders.
"Three," grumbled Javier.
Gaston stilled. What madness was this? The General was sending these men to their deaths on hardly more than a whisper of a rumour.
"This can't be," he rumbled.
Aramis stood and looked at his friend and gave him a sad smile. "It must be," he said. "We have orders. Our small number may make it easier for us to integrate with the troops. If it will help bring an end to this war, I will do it," he said, his dark eyes determined.
"No," growled Gaston. "I won't let you. You can't do this. It's suicide!"
"Thank goodness for Aramis' nine lives then, eh mon ami?" said Javier as he settled onto his bedroll by the campfire. "Come now, Gaston. If this is to be our last night together, let it not be one of anger."
Aramis grinned at Javier and took a seat next to him.
Gaston looked at these two men that he had grown so fond of and cursed himself. The key to surviving was to never grow attached, wasn't it? He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders and joined his companions by the fire as Javier spoke of the Spanish town he had been born in and his life before the war.
oOo
"Are you awake Kitten?" Gaston asked.
"When will you two stop calling me that?" Aramis muttered.
Gaston smiled sadly.
"What's bothering you?" Aramis asked.
"Perhaps I should be asking you the same question…"
Aramis sighed. "Just thinking about this mission. There's not a lot to go on," he said. Gaston nodded and waited. He knew there was more troubling the lad. "I wish Javier hadn't volunteered to come with me. This is suicide," he said and dropped his head.
"Javier going with you is the only reason I haven't marched into Marchand's tent and strangled him in his sleep," said Gaston bitterly. He stared at his young friend who smiled softly back at him. Gaston was struck by how truly young Aramis was; despite his years of combat, he was barely 20…
"Look Aramis, no matter what happens on this mission, you do what you need to in order to survive okay? You and Javier will need to defend each other. I'm not sure of this third travelling with you, but Javier is a good man. He will protect you, as I know you will protect him. Learn what you can, and get out of there. There is no honour in dying needlessly," he said.
Aramis shook his head. "What if the General's wrong and there is no ship? What if we're walking blindly into a trap?"
"You and Javier will have each other. You will never be alone Aramis. You may've got nine lives, but don't risk them! Have faith in yourself, have faith in your god and have faith in your brothers-in-arms."
They were silent for some time before Aramis whispered, "But who will watch out for you?"
Gaston laughed softly. "I'll be fine. I tend to pick up stray kittens. Javi was a kitten of mine too once. I've survived out here longer than I care to think about. I will be fine knowing that you two will defend each other."
Aramis looked at the large man and not for the first time he wondered how a veteran like this still had such room in his heart to take in so many strays like him and Javi. As he drifted off to sleep, Aramis could feel the hand of the large man gently stroking the hair from his face on his last night as the guardian of his friends.
oOo
