Ways Home Part 3b
By: Tidia
Disclaimer: see part 1
Notes: Thank you so much for the reviews, following, favorites. I hope I have reached out to everyone who has reached out to me. I hope you continue to enjoy this story and there should be one more part. I am sure I have forgotten to thank someone, so please forgive me.
d'Artagnan was watching Porthos and Athos spar, taking in their different styles and seeking their weaknesses until the grumbling in the yard caught his attention as ten Red Guards entered the garrison yard. Two came towards him; he stood to greet them with his hand resting on his sword as Aramis came shoulder to shoulder with him.
"You are under arrest."
"For what?" d'Artagnan looked at his friends in confusion.
"For the murder of Leon Allaire. He was one of us."
D'Artagnan shook his head. "I don't know him."
Treville came down the stairs, accepting the papers he was handed with the Cardinal's seal. "Go with them, d'Artagnan until we sort this out."
They watched as d'Artagnan was led out of the garrison, then followed Treville to his office. Treville passed the papers to Athos. "The dead guard said d'Artagnan's name on his deathbed."
"That is the only evidence against him?" Athos passed the paper to Porthos.
"Is it at all possible that d'Artagnan could have been involved?" Treville asked. "I know you men and the Red Guards. . ."
Aramis cleared his throat. "He was with me late into the evening with two fine women."
Porthos patted Aramis on the back. "Will that be enough to release him?"
Treville did not have a chance to answer the question before three other musketeers entered. Athos nodded at Edmund ,Arc, and Bastian.
"Why are you interrupting?" Treville scolded.
"We just learned that d'Artagnan was taken to the Chatelet for the death of Leon Allaire. When we left him he was very much alive." Edmund explained, glancing at his two friends for confirmation.
"I do not understand." Treville sat back in his chair. "What have you to do with this matter?"
"This happened two nights ago?" Aramis asked, receiving a frown in response from Athos who wanted more information.
"Yes," Bastian stepped forward. "Leon had taken liberties with my woman and we sought to make sure it did not happen again. On my honor we punished him and sent him on his way."
"And d'Artagnan's involvement?" Athos asked. "Was he there as an accomplice?"
Edmund sighed. "He found us, but wanted no part of it, but I may have accidently used his name when I asked for his discretion."
"You should have killed Allaire or done nothing." Athos growled, disgusted in the men before him and finding it difficult for the insult to pass. "d'Artagnan will not pay the price for this."
"This isn't helping d'Artagnan. I'm thinking Leon probably went to a tavern to lick his wounds," Porthos supplied. "It's what a stupid Red Guard would do."
"We need to find out what happened to him, and in the meantime you three will go with me to the palace to secure d'Artagnan's release." Treville gestured to Edmund, Arc and Bastien.
"We apologize." They bowed to Athos, Porthos and Aramis. It was well known in the garrison that d'Artagnan was under their protection and tutelage. Edmund continued, "We will accept any punishment, but it is not for d'Artagnan to bear. He was not involved and tried to dissuade us from our endeavors."
Athos could do no more; instead they had to find out how Leon died. They started in the area that they were told he was last seen alive, going to the taverns in the area until someone recognized the description of Leon.
"He was here, boasting about how the Musketeers weren't brave enough to kill him." The barkeep said as he served a midday patron.
It was slow going to find a person that last saw Leon alive, but Aramis's ways with women along with Porthos's direct nature led to the Cardinal's witness.
A small man wearing a stocking hat seemed happy enough to tell them his story as he picked at his face. "Came out of there not able to put one foot in front of the other, then went up those stairs and fell."
The man pointed to stairs that led to another tavern a few doors away.
"He fell?" Aramis pressed and received an enthusiastic nod.
"There was lots of blood, and I thought if I brought him back to the Red Guards that I would get a reward. Kept saying d'Artagnan, d'Artagnan. Didn't get too far before he stopped mumbling and died." The man shrugged his shoulders as if drunken deaths were a common occurrence.
Porthos jingled his money pouch. "Did the Cardinal's men pay you?"
"Some, but it should have been more." The witness was thankfully an opportunist.
Athos felt some relief that at least they could prove that d'Artagnan did not cause Leon's death. He hoped that Treville would be able to have the other charges shifted to the rightful musketeers. "We need you to come with us and promise you a reward, too."
((()))
D'Artagnan calmed when he was taken to the palace to appear before the King and saw Treville, Athos, Aramis and Porthos. He was surprised to see Edmund, Arc and Bastian, but knew that meant that the truth was going to be revealed. His brothers would not fail him.
His time at the Chatelet had been less than pleasant. He was glad he would not be spending the night under the watchful eyes of the Red Guards looking for revenge for the death of their comrade.
d'Artagnan sported bruises on his torso, hidden by his clothes as the guards were careful not to have any outward signs show on his face. He shifted uncomfortably as he heard Treville give his report about the witness seeing Leon alive.
"It was an accident with d'Artagnan not involved, Your Majesty," Treville concluded. "d'Artagnan should be set free."
The Cardinal's eyes shined. He wanted revenge and his opportunity to strike was at hand. "It may have been an accident, but you heard that musketeers precipitated violence against one of my guardsmen."
"The matter was one involving a woman." Treville gestured for Edmund, Bastian and Arc to step forward in their musketeer finery. "These three accept blame, while d'Artagnan is blameless. They are willing to be punished as your majesty sees fit."
The Cardinal did not allow the king to answer. Edmund, Bastian and Arc were not the three musketeers he wanted to blame. "Leon Allaire did not name them. He only named d'Artagnan so he should be punished."
Treville gave a slight shake of his head. "Cardinal, you have heard that d'Artagnan is innocent and your guardsman was addled by drink."
"The name given was d'Artagnan," the Cardinal repeated. "How do I know that these men are not embracing all for one and one for all?" He made it sound like a curse, not the words that stirred the hearts of the Musketeers. "The blame belongs and remains with d'Artagnan."
D'Artagnan could tell the king was bored with these events. "Very well, Cardinal what is your request?"
The Cardinal seemed to ponder for a moment before answering, "One hundred lashes. It was a most egregious crime." The audience gasped in response while d'Artagnan tried to school his own expression.
Treville raised his voice. "Sire, the Red Guard died not as a result of their actions, but his own. This is too much."
"Cardinal, this is one of my most recent Musketeers…" The king prompted.
"I will accept forty lashes as an example that there should be no further fighting between those that defend France."
"Forty lashes it is to be carried out tomorrow. D'Artagnan is freed from the charge of murder," the king announced.
D'Artagnan was in shock with a silence that enveloped him. He thought he bowed, but he heard Treville's answer as if it were in the distance.
"Very well. Thank you for your mercy, Your Highness."
((()))
The Red Guards took off the chains once the royal couple left the room. The Cardinal gave Treville a smug smile and ignored the others as he swept through, his black cape fluttering sharp like a wing.
D'Artagnan remained rooted in place, confused on how to take a step and to where. Athos, Porthos and Aramis came to his side as a presence, but did not speak. They were waiting for him.
Edmund, Arc and Bastian bowed to him. Bastian, with his hair tied back, hat removed from his head spoke, "d'Artagnan, we are sorry and ask for your forgiveness."
D'Artagnan shook his head. He could not face the three musketeers that caused him to be placed in the crossfire of a whip. He turned to face Athos. "If you tell me that they are my brothers, and that I have to forgive them, then I will not be able to control myself because I would be glad to have their blood on my hands."
"No," Athos said.
Porthos put his arms out wide to push the three troublemakers away from d'Artagnan. They knew enough to walk away. Athos, Aramis and Porthos waited until the other three had left the room before following behind them to go to the garrison.
They were almost outside when the Queen's maid detained them. "The Queen requests the company of d'Artagnan. She has said his friends may join him."
They were directed to an antechamber of the throne room. There the Queen was seated, a hand rested on her growing stomach. She was given more power over her husband with her pregnancy. The King would defer to her or ask her opinion with a glowing smile.
They bowed in her presence. Her ladies in waiting stood behind her.
She addressed d'Artagnan. "I understand that your lands were destroyed." D'Artagnan nodded. "Those shall be restored to you free from taxes while you serve the King. You will be allowed to collect your rents."
"Thank you Your Majesty." He bowed again at the unexpected news. Lupiac was a sore in his heart as he thought about his home being a burned out shell.
The Queen was quiet for a moment seeking words that would not give away the truth. "I wish there was more in regards to your punishment that I could change. The Cardinal sees only one direction. You must know the King values your loyalty, appreciates your service, and those of the other musketeers in defending him."
"Thank you, Your Majesty for your kindness." Aramis said, his head still up, never fully gesticulating.
They were outside when they were allowed to speak freely. Aramis mounted his horse. "The Cardinal gets his revenge for our actions."
"He is not one to be contrite and humble," Athos added.
A wave of anger rose up in d'Artagnan. These men would not be affected; he was the one that would fill the sting of a whip against his skin. "Flogging. It's humiliating, but it's only some of my pride. Isn't that right, Athos?"
Athos did not reply, instead he kept his horse still.
D'Artagnan continued spewing, unable to control his tongue. "Don't get involved, don't judge and trust my brothers. . ."
"That sounds like Aramis," Porthos commented, but a glance from d'Artagnan had him frowning. "I don't know if I like him angry at me."
It was enough that d'Artagnan came to his senses. The anger was displaced. "That was poor of me." He patted his horse to calm his discomfort.
"No need for apologies," Aramis answered. "Shall we return to the garrison or to a tavern? I believe that Treville would understand under the circumstances the need for the tavern."
"I would like to avoid them setting up the staging," Aramis added, his horse stepping forward, but then had the good sense to bow his head in apology of his callousness.
"First round is on you," Porthos said, reaching over to give d'Artagnan a pat on the back. "We'll get you drunk enough to feel nothing."
(())
There was not enough wine because the next morning d'Artagnan awoke to see his friends were in his room also asleep. He stood up, attempting to be quiet to look out the window. He had seen it when they had stumbled into the garrison, the place where he would be whipped. The others tried to distract him, Porthos having to physically pull him away and push him up the stairs to his room.
"Do you wish for food or drink?" Athos asked. The others were stirring behind him so he drew himself away from the window.
His stomach was already churning with nausea. "I do not believe I can eat."
Porthos handed him a half empty bottle that was near his makeshift bed. "Drink."
"Better to be flogged in a stupor." Aramis stretched like a cat as he awoke, then patted down his hair.
"Is this advice from personal experience?" d'Artagnan jested, but it had more bite than he intended. He returned to sitting on his bed to slip on his boots not recalling taking them off before going to bed, which meant one of the other man had done it. They were watching over him. He jumped at the soft knock at the door, but did not make a move to answer it.
Porthos opened the door in a huff of annoyance at the disturbance. There was no conversation, and he closed the door. "Edmund, Arc and Bastian want to talk to you. I can get rid of them for you."
Although it was tempting to have Porthos take a pound of their flesh, d'Artagnan had been told that the rest of the garrison was providing them no quarter. The Gascon glanced to Athos to realize the charade of avoidance would not be wise. "Allow them in."
Porthos opened the door, but the three musketeers only stepped in past the threshold. The door remained ajar. "We've told Treville that we wished to be flogged beside you, but he said that it would be your decision."
D'Artagnan rubbed a hand down his face, then turned to Porthos, Aramis and Athos for assistance. Athos was distant as if was removing himself from the matter, Aramis seemed to be considering it while Porthos was agreeing with the suggestion.
"No. I do not want the Cardinal to have that much satisfaction." The Red Guards would be filing in shortly for the spectacle. Athos gave him a pat on the back.
The three musketeers did not put up any resistance, but were dejected. They wanted to atone. D'Artagnan could not find a way for them to do so, would take time to even allow it after he had been whipped.
Porthos gestured for them to leave. Treville was calling for the Musketeers to assemble.
D'Artagnan pulled off his shirt, having left his cloak, jacket and pauldron in his room. He passed it to Aramis for safekeeping.
"You are bruised. Are those from the Red Guards?" Aramis ghosted over the marks on d'Artagnan's torso.
"I'll kill them." Porthos vowed, only being restrained by Athos.
D'Artagnan shook his head. "It does not matter. Not now." They did not bother him as much as what he would be facing. As he stepped out he could see the sea of blue capes, usually so stirring, but this time he wanted to erase the scene from his memory as the Musketeers stood side by side with the Red Guards. Blue and red clashed.
d'Artagnan took the steps to the center of the garrison alone. He felt his three friends following him, their eyes upon him. However, they could only stand as witnesses.
He had lost the innocence of Lupiac, gained a new understanding that honor among soldiers was fluid. Good musketeers were cocky and arrogant, They had ruthlessness, which he had seen in himself that spilled into recklessness with repercussions. There was a lesson for him, but it would carry a bitterness for a while.
He put his hands in front of him and got into place, seeing as he was going to be tied to the post with his hands above him looped through a hook. The punisher tapped at his feet, which were tied to the post. It would not be wise to have his body moving while being lashed.
The decree was read by the Cardinal in a loud voice filled with pride. D'Artagnan ignored it in order to prepare. He willed himself to not call out. The first lash burned as did the next few until his mind could not register the pain any longer. Twenty other lashes and the deliverer switched to the other side. The break refreshed the pain once more, settling into numbness.
D'Artagnan felt himself going weak, using the pole to hold him up while his arms hung. His focus was the sound; the whish as the flogger was pulled back then went through the air before striking. Mercifully, the sound stopped.
It was not the man who had been punishing his body that cut him down. Athos took his sword to the loop holding his hands on the hook while Aramis was at his feet. Porthos had his flank, holding him up as his legs fully took their weight.
The Gascon felt himself falter, but Porthos kept him standing.
"It is an ounce of pride that they took,"d'Artagnan mumbled past the dryness in his throat and the taste of iron on his lips. He had bit his tongue to keep his silence at one point.
"Nothing was taken," Athos said quietly close to his ear. "You showed courage and honor. Did you not hear the musketeers?"
D'Artagnan shook his head, he had not heard anything, but when he looked up he saw that the musketeers had formed a line, an honor guard, which protected him from the eyes of the Red Guards.
"They roared for you, never heard anything like it," Porthos said with a nod of pride.
"Did I call out?" If he hadn't heard the musketeers, then what if he had yelled without noticing?
"No." Aramis rubbed the back of his head.
D'Artagnan took steps slowly, feeling his friends surrounding him. "Help me, but do not carry me." He could collapse in private, but not here in front of the Musketeers, Red Guards or the Cardinal. There could be no weakness.
TBC
