This is a series of missing scenes for The Exiles.

Missing Pieces

Chapter Seven

Aramis hurried through the streets surrounded by his friends, his mind running through the various scenarios. If they took Agnes and baby Henry to the palace and announced his paternity there would be mayhem. No doubt Marie de Medici would be delighted. It would give her the opportunity to depose Louis and declare a Regency. How a mother could be so coldly calculating was something Aramis couldn't fathom. Worse, though, was handing the child over to Richelieu. The Cardinal would take immediate steps to dispose of the boy and his mother.

"You know this is wrong," he said.

Athos pulled him to a standstill. "We have our orders. This is the rightful King of France we're talking about."

"He's a baby. For pity's sake, Athos, can't you see that we're condemning him to death?"

"We don't know that," d'Artagnan said.

"Don't be naive. The Queen Mother and the Cardinal are at each other's throats. Neither one will want to surrender the advantage. If she gets hold of the baby he will become a pawn. If the Cardinal gets him in his clutches we will have signed his death warrant. Richelieu will do anything to keep Louis in power. Either Agnes and Henry die or we risk civil war. How is that doing our duty as Musketeers?"

"You're too close to this, Aramis. Why don't you leave it to us?" Athos suggested.

"No. I promised Agnes that she and the baby would be safe. I'm not abandoning them."

"Very well. We'll give you a few minutes to prepare her." Athos looked at his friend sympathetically.

They arrived back at the Bonacieux house. Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan stopped in the yard, allowing Aramis to enter alone. He found Agnes singing softly to the baby who lay quietly in his crib.

"We have to leave," he said.

She looked at him quizzically. "Are we going to the palace?"

"No. Listen, Agnes, you have to trust me." Aramis began to unbuckle his pauldron.

"What are you doing?"

"Where we're going it is better that no-one knows I'm a Musketeer." He left the room briefly to collect a plain cloak that was hanging by the front door.

"Quickly now." He draped Agnes' cloak over her shoulders. "And keep Henry quiet."

"What about the others?"

"They have other duties to attend to." He glanced out the window to see his three friends deep in conversation. None were looking in the direction of the house.

"I don't understand where we're going," Agnes said as Aramis hustled her towards the back door.

"Someplace safe." He lifted her hood and arranged it so that it obscured her features.

"But, I want to go home."

"I know." He put out a hand to stop her and peered out the door. Satisfied that the way was clear he chivvied her forward again. "Keep walking and don't look back." He took her arm and walked quickly down the road, not relaxing until they had turned a corner.

It wasn't a long walk to the river and it was accomplished in silence. Once they arrived at the encampment he left her to find someone who could arrange passage out of the country. After speaking to a few people he was directed to a man who was standing close to the bridge.

"I am looking for passage to Spain for a woman and her child." He upended his purse and let his meagre collection of coins fall into his palm.

The man sneered. "That wouldn't pay for the child."

"He's only a baby. Please, their lives are in danger. I have to get them out of the country."

"I don't know. Sea travel's expensive."

"What if I throw in my pistol? It's good quality, the finest workmanship."

"Let's see it then."

Aramis unhooked his pistol from his belt without any hesitation. He loved the weapon but cared more for the safety of Agnes and Henry.

The man looked it over carefully. "It might do. What else you got?"

He couldn't relinquish his sword which might be needed for self-defence so he drew his main gauche. "That's all."

"Deal."

Aramis took back his pistol and knife before handing over the money. "The rest when my friends are on their way to Spain."

After concluding his transaction he returned to Agnes. Their argument about her leaving took a turn he deeply regretted. He would never forget the fear on her face when he explained that she and Henry would die unless they left the country. He was still full of self-loathing when his friends turned up. He readied himself for the inevitable fight only to find that they were supportive, albeit censorious of his decision to leave without telling them. Then Vincent and his men appeared and Aramis knew they were out of time. They had to find a way to get Agnes and Henry across the bridge without Vincent catching them.

The barrels of brandy sparked the first inklings of a plan. He drew Athos to one side. "I'll persuade Agnes to cross the bridge without the baby. Porthos and d'Artagnan will create a diversion before I ride across ostensibly carrying Henry."

"What do you mean 'ostensibly'?"

"I can't risk him in the middle of what is sure to be a fight. He'll have to stay here with you." He endured Athos' 'you have to be joking' stare without flinching.

"You can't be serious. I don't know what to do with a baby. I've never even held one."

"It isn't hard. Take him back to Constance. She'll look after him until we can reunite him with his mother."

"This is a really bad idea, Aramis. I can't be trusted to get him away from here."

"Why? Are you drunk?" Aramis put his hands on his hips and glared at his friend. "I didn't think so. You will be fine."

"What if he needs feeding? Or, you know, he soils himself."

"Babies do that all the time. It really isn't anything to be afraid of."

"I'm not afraid," Athos said stiffly. "I'm merely questioning the feasibility of your plan."

"We don't have time to argue. Vincent's men are searching the camp."

"Fine, but if anything happens to him it will be on your head."

"One more thing. We can't tell Agnes. This has to look authentic or they won't believe it."

"You would be that cruel?"

"If it means keeping them safe, yes." With a stiff nod to his friend he returned to Agnes who was clutching the baby to her chest, her eyes wide and fearful.

"Give him to me," Aramis said gently. "You will go over the bridge first then I will bring Henry." He held out his hands. "I promise I will see you safely reunited."

She kissed her son on the head and handed him over with such implicit trust that it made his heart ache for the deception he was about to play on her. In the end it was every bit as bad as he had expected. The apparent loss of her child in such a brutal fashion had broken something inside her and she had fought like a wildcat when he stopped her flinging herself in the river. She clung to him as she sobbed brokenly and it took every ounce of self-control not to break down and tell her the truth. Eventually the tears stopped and she sat huddled in a heap, staring listlessly ahead of her.

"There is a meadow about a mile north of here. I want you to go there and wait for me," Aramis said, hunkering down so that he was at her eye level. "We will bring you money and supplies for your journey."

"Where am I to go?" She looked at him out of red-rimmed eyes. "I have lost Philippe and now Henry. What will I do?"

"We will discuss that later. I'm sorry to leave you alone but we have to report to the palace. Marie de Medici has to know that her plans have failed."

"I don't care about her."

"No, I don't suppose you do." He exchanged quick glances with Porthos and d'Artagnan, both of whom still believed that the child had perished. They looked grief stricken and Porthos came to lay a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

Once Agnes was on her way he gave a deep sigh.

"Where's Athos?" Porthos asked.

"Hopefully at the Bonacieux house with baby Henry."

"What're you talkin' about? We saw…"

"You and Vincent saw what you were meant to see. Do you really think I would take a baby into battle?"

"But Agnes believes you did." D'Artagnan looked at him disapprovingly. "That was heartless."

"It was necessary. They won't be safe until Marie de Medici leaves and everyone believes the child died."

"How could you do that to her?" Porthos asked.

"Believe me, it wasn't easy. Now, are you coming? The sooner we get news to the palace the better. Then we can reunite mother and son."

They found Athos pacing the floor, arms full of crying baby. He gave them a look of utter relief and thrust the child at Aramis.

"He's hungry. Constance has gone to speak to a friend of hers who recently had a baby. Who'd have thought that something that small could make so much noise?"

"He's missing his mother." Aramis cradled Henry and began to sing him a Spanish lullaby. The child hiccoughed and stopped crying.

"It seems you have a knack with babies," Athos observed drily.

Aramis didn't respond. He was suddenly overcome with the memories that had been tormenting him ever since meeting Agnes and her son. What would it have been like to hold his own child? He had been so young when Isabelle fell pregnant and hadn't the first notion how to be a father. Yet, he had still been heartbroken when she told him the child was gone. Then, she had disappeared and his life had completely changed. He cuddled Henry tighter. Had Isabelle regretted the loss of the baby? She had seemed so calm the day she told him. He wondered if she had found happiness someplace else. If she had a family. It was something that he seemed destined to be denied. He knew that Agnes would welcome him once Henry was returned to her. He was being offered the chance to have a family of his own yet he knew he could never go with her. He belonged here with his brothers.

His thoughts were interrupted by Constance's return with the news that her friend had agreed to be a temporary wet nurse for the baby.

"I'll take him now," she said.

Aramis relinquished the child with great reluctance. "Take good care of him."

"Of course. Now, don't you have things to do?"

"We'll go to the garrison first and tell Treville," Athos said.

And so they performed their duty for the rightful King of France. Was it treason to reunite him with his mother and send them on their way to Spain? Perhaps, but it save a little boy and they could live with that.

The End.