This is the final chapter. I am grateful for the reviews and to those who followed this story. I hope you will check out my other Musketeer story – Past the Point of Rescue.

Vengeance is Mine

Chapter Seven

Aramis spent the early part of the night in contemplation, reminiscing about his time with Adele. They had taken every opportunity to meet. One of his most recent and tender memories were of the afternoon they had spent at the Luxembourg Gardens. It was fitting that he would slay her murderer in the place where they had been happiest.

They'd met in secret at the Medici Fountain. It was typical of the conceit of the King's mother that she should have a fountain named for her. The Gardens had been her project; an attempt to create a little piece of Paris that reminded her of her home in Florence. It was pristine parkland frequented by many of the nobles and well-to-do artisans and tradesmen. The feeling of tranquility provided an oasis hidden from the squalor and poverty in which most people lived.

Water from the fountain filled a long basin edged by a low balustrade and shaded by plane trees. Aramis had been happy that the seemingly ever-present rain had ceased, turning the day bright with sunshine. They had daringly lain under the trees wrapped in his cloak to make long slow love, knowing that they could be discovered at any time. That danger had been the spice that made the day so memorable. Adele had been passionate and he'd carried the marks from her nails for days afterwards.

As the hours passed slowly he also finally admitted the truth of their relationship. She had been a charming companion, an enthusiastic lover and it had given him satisfaction to know that he was cuckolding the Cardinal. He had been fond of her, but on his part there hadn't been love. It made his guilt harder to bear. Feelings of self-loathing threatened his tenuous composure.

In the darkest part of the night he lit candles and cleaned his pistol. Once that was completed to his satisfaction he turned his attention to his sword. The choice of weapon lay with Moreau. He would ensure that he was ready for any eventuality. When he opened the door an hour before daybreak he found his three friends waiting for him. The warmth of their presence and support suffused him, helping to calm his uneasy soul.

The ride to the Luxembourg Gardens was accomplished in silence. They stayed away from the well-tended lawns and flowerbeds. Duels were fought in the more secluded confines of the orchard. The buds were just starting to appear on the apple and pear trees. Soon there would be a riot of pink and white blossom as spring crept once more over the land, displacing the chill of winter. At this early hour the air was still icy and the ground was covered with frost. It would make the footing treacherous if Moreau decided they should fight with swords. The darkness began to dissipate in the east although the sun was not yet showing above the horizon. Aramis murmured a brief prayer and crossed himself, feeling a sense of peace settle over his mind.

"Ready?" Porthos asked.

"I've been ready since we received news of Adele's murder."

"Remember that there's no shame in playing dirty," Porthos added. "The point of a duel is to win, not behave like a gentleman."

"This isn't my first duel," Aramis reminded him.

"I know but you have a nasty habit of relying too much on your honour. Moreau will take advantage of that."

"Trust me, my friend. I fight for Adele's honour, not my own."

"Here he comes," Athos said.

Moreau only had one man with him. He reined in his horse and dismounted, walking confidently to meet the Musketeers.

"This duel will be fought under the normal code of chivalry," Athos said, even though he knew that neither combatant would heed his words. This was a fight to the finish and a man will do anything to escape the cold arms of death. "Since Aramis issued the challenge you have the right to choose the weapon."

"Pistols." Moreau's smile showed his yellowing uneven teeth. "Seems fitting."

"It does indeed," Aramis said. "It means I can kill you with the same weapon you used on Adele."

"Stand back to back and take twenty paces," Athos instructed. "Moreau will fire first when I give the word."

D'Artagnan tugged at Porthos' arm. "How likely it Aramis to survive the first shot?"

"It's fifty-fifty at that range," Porthos said bleakly.

Athos counted the steps out loud. "Nineteen…twenty. Turn and fire in your own time."

Aramis turned part way so that he stood sideways on to his opponent. He held his pistol at the ready and took three steadying breaths. He raised his head to stare steadily at Moreau. The Red Guard lifted his arm, pointing his pistol directly at Aramis. He pulled the trigger and there was the sound of the bullet leaving the barrel. Aramis tensed before hissing in pain when the bullet ploughed across his right upper arm. Despite the pain his aim was steady when it came his turn to shoot. He consciously relaxed his shoulders, took a deep breath and fired. His bullet caught Moreau in the side. To his frustration it wasn't a fatal wound.

"Honour has been satisfied," Athos said in the vain hope that the combatants would declare the fight a draw.

"To hell with honour," Moreau shouted. His face was lined with pain and the move to draw his sword was clumsy. "Let's finish this."

"With pleasure," Aramis said. His arm wasn't entirely steady as he drew his own weapon but he knew he had taken the less severe would thus giving him the advantage.

Moreau ran toward him. Aramis raised his sword to salute his opponent before moving gracefully forward. The first clash of steel reverberated around the orchard. They disengaged and began to circle warily seeking an opening. When Moreau lunged again Aramis was ready to meet the blow. For less than a minute they fenced with each other, appearing evenly matched. When Moreau stepped back Aramis sensed that the wound was troubling him. He could see a dark patch of wet blood seeping through the man's jacket. The wound in his own arm burned painfully but he pushed it aside to concentrate on his next move.

He began to move forward, eager to finish the fight. His left foot slid on a patch of ice and he fell to one knee. Moreau immediately sprang forward, driving his sword toward Aramis' face. He blocked the blow, reached behind his back and pulled his knife from its sheath. With a twist of his shoulder he buried the blade in Moreau's gut and twisted.

The Red Guard howled in agony and the strength left his sword arm. Aramis pushed and Moreau staggered backwards to fall to the ground clutching his belly. After climbing wearily to his feet Aramis went to stand over the man who had killed Adele.

"The wound is fatal," he said. "It will be slow and painful and I wouldn't wish that on any man. Do you want me to finish it?"

Moreau was beyond the ability to speak but he gave a brief nod.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Athos asked his friend.

"I'm sure." Aramis positioned his sword over Moreau's heart and thrust downwards. He waited to feel the exultation that he'd expected but found he only felt exhausted.

"It was a fair fight," Athos said to Moreau's companion.

"Agreed," the man said. "I'll take him back to our garrison. You know I have to tell the Cardinal?"

"Of course. We wouldn't expect anything else." Athos walked back to his friends. "We should get back. I'm sure word will reach Treville soon."

"How do you feel?" d'Artagnan asked Aramis.

"There is a void inside me. I'd hoped to fill it with Moreau's death."

"Justice has been served," Athos said. "The rest will come in time."

TMTMTM

The Cardinal was working at his desk when the smell of jasmine announced the arrival of his pet assassin. He signed his name on the document in front of him and picked up a red candle to drip wax beside his signature. After removing his signet ring he pressed it into the warm wax to affix his seal. He looked up to find Milady de Winter watching him with the hint of a smirk. It appeared she was becoming a little too complacent and he made a mental note to warn her against incurring his displeasure. "You are familiar with the Countess Ninon de Larroque?"

Milday sneered. "The woman who believes in female education? She's doing her acolytes no favours," she said dismissively. "What man wants a wife who knows more than he does?"

"Is that why you never married? Too clever for any normal man to handle?" The Cardinal asked snidely. He saw her expression become blank but not before there was a flash of something unexpected…yearning. Clearly Milady was keeping a few secrets of her own.

"You have no idea of my past, Cardinal," she said coolly.

"I know I picked you out of the gutter and that I own you, body and blackened soul."

"You have made that very clear. What is it you want from me?"

"I want the Countess' money," he said bluntly. "She is obscenely rich and what does she do with it? She wastes it on silly little girls. I have a much better use for it. Get close to her and find a way for me to take it from her…for the good of France, of course."

"Of course," she murmured, hiding her disdain.

There was a brief knock on the door. "Come," he called. A member of his Guard approached and spoke softly before bowing and leaving the room.

"Is there a problem?" Milady asked.

"No. For once those meddlesome Musketeers have done me a favour. Aramis killed one of my men in a duel this morning."

"Not something to be happy about or am I missing something?" she asked.

"He was the one who killed Adele on my orders. She was having an affair with Aramis and became a little too indiscrete. Now that Moreau is dead there is no chance of any rumours reaching the King."

"A fortuitous event," she said. "If only all deaths were as welcome. Is there anything else you need?"

"Only for you to do your job."

"Have I ever failed you?"

"The day you fail me is the day you stop being of use. Ingratiate yourself with Ninon and report back. There has to be some way to blacken her name."

"It shall be done."

TMTMTM

The grass was damp and soft under his hand. The sound of the water running sedately over the small rocks of the river bed was almost musical and soporific. Adele's grave was under the shade of a willow tree and dappled in the early morning sunlight. Aramis finished positioning the cross with her name carved upon it. He sat back on his heels, the wound in his arm no more than a dull ache, reminding him of the vengeance enacted upon her murderer. Birds sang in the trees, happily greeting the new day. He was not so sanguine. Adele's true killer remained unpunished and he made a silent vow to make the Cardinal pay one day for his treachery.

Aramis took hold of the cross given to him by the Queen and raised it to his lips in benediction. He pushed to his feet, turning away from the sight that wrenched his heart. His three friends awaited him, far enough away to give him privacy and close enough for him to feel the strength of their support. With firm steps he walked away knowing that he had left a small piece of his heart behind.

"Are you alright?" Athos asked.

"Yes." Aramis flashed a mischievous grin. "Let's go back to Paris and see what trouble we can cause for the Cardinal."

The End.