Author's note: Thanks for all the reviews! I love reading what you all think about what's going on and what's coming up. Keep up the guesses! 3

The Challenge, part 3

"Treville has taken the fight himself." d'Artagnan leaned against a chair, sighing.

For a moment he thought Constance wasn't going to answer; then she stirred. "Well then, I suppose that puts an end to your daydream."

"What do you mean?" d'Artagnan frowned; something was breaking Constance's heart.

"We were fooling ourselves, d'Artagnan. There's no future for us together."

She didn't believe a word of it.

"This silly flirtation has to end."

"I love you."

"I don't love you."

She didn't believe that, either.

d'Artagnan shook his head, cutting off whatever she was about to say. "Constance, stop. You don't mean that, I know you don't. What's happened, why are you saying this?"

"We can't be together. I don't want you."

d'Artagnan shook his head, suddenly aware of M Bonacieux somewhere very close. He was enjoying every minute of this. "You're lying."

"No." Constance wasn't meeting his eyes. "This thing, this fling, it's over, d'Artagnan."

d'Artagnan caught her arm, pulling her in so he could press his lips to her ear. "Your husband found out," he breathed. Constance gripped at his shoulders, nodding. "He threatened you?" A head shake, and he frowned. "He threatened me? He can't hurt me."

"He works for the Cardinal now," Constance said, so softly he could barely hear her. "Please, d'Artagnan. Shout and throw something and leave. Don't come near me again."

"Constance…"

"I won't see you. I'll give you up before I let him hurt you."

That part, she meant. d'Artagnan pulled back, gripping her hands and kissing them gently. "I'll find a way," he breathed, before saying more loudly "So that's it? You're just throwing us away?"

"I'm a married woman. You can't even secure a commission. I can't risk everything I have for you."

d'Artagnan stepped back, hurt even though he knew she didn't mean it. "I hope you'll be very happy with your husband," he said coldly. "Maybe your money will make up for your loneliness."

The satisfaction M Bonacieux was feeling was almost enough to make him change his mind, but he didn't dare. He pressed his fingers to his lips, watching Constance until she nodded, and then he stormed out as loudly as he could.

The others were already at the challenge grounds. d'Artagnan climbed over a tent rope to find a spot between Athos and Porthos, leaning towards Athos. "Talk to you later."

"Mmm."

Captain Treville stepped out of his tent to enter the ring, and d'Artagnan applauded along with the others. He wasn't childish enough to wish harm on the captain; he'd chosen to fight and d'Artagnan hoped he did well.

He wasn't sure why Treville was dreading the fight so much, until the herald announced the Red Guard's champion.

Athos' fingers dug into his arm, just above his elbow. "Get your shield up." Porthos had drawn in closer on his other side, ready to help if needed; Aramis was watching them, one eye on Treville.

"The captain's not surprised," he noted.

"He knew," Athos agreed. "That's why he took the fight himself. d'Artagnan?"

"I'm fine," d'Artagnan assured him. "I'm shielded."

"How long can you keep that up?"

"Long enough for this."

LaBarge was cheating, openly. d'Artagnan and the others watched, ready to intervene if they had to, holding back out of respect for Treville. When LaBarge stamped on Treville's shoulder d'Artagnan shook his head. "He's going to kill him. Athos..." Athos drew his sword, charging onto the field; the other Musketeers followed, and the Red Guards swarmed on in defence of their captain.

"Hold!" Louis shouted. d'Artagnan shoved his opponent away, backing towards the Musketeers. Aramis had used the fight to get Treville on his feet and was examining his shoulder.

"Your man broke the rules, Cardinal," Louis continued. "Captain Treville may nominate another Champion, if he chooses."

Treville looked at Athos for a long moment before turning to Louis, bowing as respectfully as he could. "I nominate d'Artagnan to take my place."

"d'Artagnan isn't a Musketeer," Richelieu protested.

"An' he's an empath!" LaBarge added. "I ain't fighting him!"

"Then you forfeit the challenge and the Musketeers win," Athos said easily.

"Accusing anyone of an Ability is dangerous," Louis added. "I would be careful what accusations you are throwing around, LaBarge."

"Do you forfeit?" Athos insisted.

LaBarge looked up at Richelieu, who shook his head. "The challenge stands. My captain will beat your apprentice."

"I wish I remembered burning down your farm," LaBarge shouted as they met in the centre of the arena. "It'd make this even sweeter."

d'Artagnan lifted his blade in salute, letting the words wash over him and fall away. Without the emotion behind them, they made far less impact anyway. LaBarge kept shouting; d'Artagnan ignored it, letting him waste his energy on it. LaBarge was big, and heavy, and he put a lot of strength into his hits. d'Artagnan was quickly wearing down; he had to finish this, fast.

He barely noticed it when it happened, moving on instinct into the gap in LaBarge's defences; a slice across the belly was followed by twisting LaBarge's own sword to stab through him the heart. The man collapsed into d'Artagnan's arms, and he held him up long enough to murmur "That was for the people of Gascony." Then he stepped back, letting LaBarge fall to the ground at his feet.

The Musketeers surrounded him, Athos and Aramis clapping him on the shoulders. d'Artagnan leaned into the touches, exhausted and touch-hungry now that he couldn't Read them.

"Bravo, d'Artagnan," Louis announced. "I hereby declare the Musketeer regiment the winners." He applauded, and everyone else joined in; d'Artagnan caught a glimpse of the Cardinal's face and smiled to himself.

"The prize money is forfeit to the treasury," Louis added. "After all, the rules were broken." He stepped past the Cardinal, coming onto the field.

d'Artagnan bowed, aware of the Musketeers drawing back a step as Louis approached.

"You defended your Captain with great heroism today," he said approvingly. d'Artagnan nodded quickly. "I admire loyalty more than any other virtue. We need more men like you serving France. Is that not so, Cardinal?"

"There is still the matter of the accusation, your majesty," Richelieu pointed out.

Athos took a half step forward. "An accusation made by a criminal who had no wish to face d'Artagnan, your majesty."

"Indeed. We have heard criminals say many things in an attempt to save themselves," Louis agreed. "A place will be found for you in one of my regiments, d'Artagnan."

d'Artagnan bowed, exhausted and not sure he could muster the words to argue for his wish to stay with the Musketeers. "Thank you, your majesty."

"Your majesty, if I may?" Treville asked. Louis nodded him to go ahead, and he continued "d'Artagnan passes every requirement for service in the Musketeers. He has excelled in every assignment he's been given, and I would be honoured to have him under my command."

"That seems to take care of everything," Louis said happily. "Doesn't it, Armand?"

"Indeed, your majesty. A glowing recommendation. Our young friend must be very talented."

"Well, we know he is, we've just seen him defeat your man. Please kneel, d'Artagnan."

Exhausted and still muffled in shields, d'Artagnan had followed very little of the conversation. He blinked confusedly as Louis turned away.

Athos' bare fingers wrapped around his wrist, jolting him enough to get his attention. "Get on your knees before he changes his mind."

Still not sure what was happening, d'Artagnan sank to one knee. Louis returned, sword in hand, and tipped d'Artagnan's shoulders lightly. "I hereby commission you into my regiment of Musketeers. May you serve it always with the same distinction that I witnessed today."

Athos' fingers brushed d'Artagnan's neck as he secured a Musketeer's pauldron to his shoulder. d'Artagnan stared down at it, noting vaguely that they'd had it ready, as though they were expecting this.

Athos squeezed his shoulder as he stepped away, and d'Artagnan looked back at Louis. "Thank you, your majesty."

Louis smiled. "I will be keeping an eye on you, young d'Artagnan. I expect great things from you."

"Thank you," d'Artagnan repeated. Louis nodded, turning away and returning to the pavilion; the Cardinal lingered for a moment, watching them, before following him.

d'Artagnan stood, all but falling into Aramis' arms; Aramis laughed softly, catching the side of his neck gently, and d'Artagnan felt the rush of borrowed energy and the easing of sore muscles. "That won't last long," Aramis warned him under his breath. "Get yourself somewhere you can relax."

"Yes," d'Artagnan promised, stepping away from him to hug Porthos and shake Athos' hand.

Treville was watching, one hand bracing his shoulder. d'Artagnan hesitated, looking at it. "Is it very bad?"

"Not so bad. I've had worse."

And Aramis had already been at it; at the very least, it probably wasn't hurting him any more. d'Artagnan nodded. "Thank you, sir. For everything."

"The pauldron's been yours for a while, d'Artagnan. It's just been waiting for you to pass the last requirement."

d'Artagnan frowned. "I only told you earlier today."

"I think you misunderstand. Having the Ability is not the requirement. Talking to your brothers about it is. We trust each other with everything, d'Artagnan. Even this. We suspected you for a while, you know that, and we've known for longer. But we couldn't do anything until you came to us, freely and without compulsion."

d'Artagnan looked down, shaking his head. "I didn't – tell them on purpose, Captain."

"That's not how I heard it from Aramis. He told me you revealed yourself to him in an effort to help him when Marsac died – and then swore him to silence, thus blocking your own advancement in the regiment. Have I been misinformed?"

"No, but –"

"And you came to me of your own free will yesterday, didn't you?"

"Yes, but –" d'Artagnan shook his head. "Known? Athos said he suspected…"

"He did," Treville agreed. "Aramis kept your silence, but Athos – without telling me, you understand – told me he suspected. We have a member of the regiment who knows when others have an Ability, and he agreed with us that you were eligible. But you are required to come to me and freely speak, and until you did that there was nothing we could do for you."

"Athos told me about the regiment yesterday, Captain. I wasn't coming to you on faith."

Treville studied him for a moment. "I grew up in Gascony, you know. Not quite Lupiac, but I know what it was like living there with an Ability that is – not always easy to hide. Believing in anyone who says you are safe is not easy."

"I trust them," d'Artagnan murmured. "And you, Captain."

"Good." Glancing over d'Artagnan's shoulder, he added, "That said, I wouldn't mention their – help – too loudly. You are supposed to pass the requirement alone."

"It was kind of necessary, Captain, he was about to bolt," Porthos said, joining them and slinging an arm around d'Artagnan's shoulder.

"Hmm. Necessary or not, let's keep it between ourselves."

"Captain…" d'Artagnan swallowed. "I –"

"d'Artagnan," Porthos said patiently. "Thank the Captain and let's go. We're wasting drinking time, 'specially if you're planning on going off meditating 'stead of partying like anyone in his right mind would."

d'Artagnan laughed helplessly, looking back at the Captain. "Thank you, sir. For everything."

"Go let the men get you drunk," Treville said, waving him off.

Aramis came to his side, studying the injury. "I'll catch up with you," he said absently to the others.

"Come on." Porthos draped an arm over d'Artagnan's shoulder, leading him away. "Let's go."

"You cheated," d'Artagnan murmured as they headed towards Athos.

"Yeah, little bit."

"Why?"

"Why?" Porthos shrugged. " 'Cos we knew you belong here. Look, we got Athos through the requirement; we'd've gotten you there, eventually. There's no rule against any of us telling you about ourselves. We just – broadened the interpretation, a little."

"You cheated."

"Hand back the commission, then." He tugged lightly at the pauldron; d'Artagnan slapped him away.

"Get off, I earned that!"

"Yeah." Porthos grinned, clapping a hand to the back of his neck. "You did."

After LaBarge, after d'Artagnan's commission, after Aramis had left to join the others, Treville went back to the Louvre to find the king. Richelieu was long gone, off trying to find a new captain probably.

"Ah, captain," Louis said cheerfully, waving away his manservant. The man left, closing the door behind himself, and Louis continued, "Has your man looked at you?"

"He has, your majesty. I shall make a full recovery."

"I've no doubt," Louis agreed. "So young d'Artagnan passed your requirements. Excelled, I believe you said."

"He did, your majesty," Treville agreed, eyeing a chair. Aramis had Healed him, but he couldn't help much with tiredness and preferred not to try.

"Sit, Treville, the chair won't bite. When did you know?"

"He came to me earlier today. Athos and the others learned yesterday; there was some kind of incident, I don't know the details yet. I'll find out."

"If you think it's necessary. What kind of Ability?"

Treville smiled faintly. Louis, who held no Ability – they were rare in the Royal Houses, for some reason – was endlessly fascinated by those who did and always wanted as many details as possible. "He's an empath, sire. A powerful one, if Aramis is right."

"An empath," Louis repeated. "It's been some time, hasn't it?"

"The last empath to serve as a Musketeer died at Savoy, sire."

"Yes, of course," Louis murmured. "And he is aware, now? The Musketeers?"

"In general. There's been little time to give him the specifics. I'll take care of it."

"Oh, there's no rush," Louis said, waving it away. "You are injured, after all."

Treville nodded. It always surprised him, just a little, how well Louis – childish, careless Louis – managed this. Cardinal Richelieu, a man who could find any piece of information he wanted, had never been able to prove anything about the Musketeer regiment, and Treville knew he was actively trying. On this one subject, Louis was immovable and unbreakable.

Of course, he believed utterly in the loyalty of Treville in particular and the Musketeers in general, and Treville never allowed any Musketeer to be commissioned if he didn't believe they'd be loyal. Treville had been the first, risking his own freedom to warn Louis of plans being drawn against him during the tumult of Marie de' Medici's overthrow, almost fifteen years ago.

He'd always been surprised at how easily Louis had accepted the Ability, especially as it was illegal under both Church and Secular law. Treville was scrupulous in ensuring that neither he nor his Musketeers ever used their Abilities for anything that could be construed as running against the State's interests, and Louis allowed them a loose rein, so long as Treville could account for them if asked to.

"You'll keep him with Comte de la Fere and the others?"

Treville nodded without protesting. Louis had never yet used Athos' title in anyone else's hearing. "As far as I recall, it's easier for empaths to stay with the same people, as much as possible. And they make a good team."

"They certainly do," Louis agreed. "When you feel he's ready, bring him along to another meeting. I should like to talk to him."

"I will, your majesty," Treville promised.

"Good. Now go and rest that arm, I want you fighting fit as soon as possible."

Treville bowed obediently. So that he could deny all knowledge if it became necessary, Louis never asked if the Musketeers had used their Abilities for anything specific. Although he certainly knew Aramis had already Healed Treville's shoulder, he would never ask if it had been done.

Treville passed Richelieu on the way out; the Cardinal was protesting at the manservant's refusing to introduce him, and he only paused to scowl at Treville. Treville tipped his hat politely, turning away before he could be caught up in conversation. Sparring with the Cardinal became wearisome, sometimes.

Treville mounted up and headed for the garrison, idly wondering what d'Artagnan would think when he met the real King Louis.

Treville glanced up at the knock on his door. It was early, he hadn't expected to be disturbed quite yet. "Come."

d'Artagnan pushed the door open without stepping in. "May I talk with you, Captain?"

"Of course. Come in."

d'Artagnan obeyed, closing the door. Treville watched him fidget for almost a minute before offering "Would you like to call one of the others up here?"

d'Artagnan winced. "No, thank you. I'm sort of practicing on you before I talk to them."

"I see. Well, that generally works better if you speak."

"I know. I just – I'm not used to talking so openly about this."

Treville leaned back in his chair. "This is about your Ability." d'Artagnan nodded quickly. "You aren't the first empath we've had in the regiment, you know. The last one – well, it's been some time. I don't pretend to understand your Ability, but I do have experience dealing with them."

"I knew I wasn't the first," d'Artagnan agreed.

"Tell me what it is you need," Treville said, waving him to a seat.

d'Artagnan sat, playing absently with a quill on Treville's desk. "I want to keep working with Athos and the others."

"I have no plans to split you up."

"But I need to work with the other Musketeers. More than just training here."

Treville studied him. "I can arrange that, but I would like to know why."

d'Artagnan nodded, still playing with the quill. "Do you know much about the shields empaths use, Captain?"

"I know that the stronger the empath, the more they need shields."

"In Gascony, I rarely needed to shield. There were far fewer people in one place, and almost no strangers; and everything I touched, I'd touched before. I knew everything I was likely to come into contact with. Here in Paris – there are so many people, all the time, all so close. And everything I touch, someone else has touched first – I have to shield, all the time. And that's easier if I have something to build on."

"What kind of something?"

He touched the rosary beads he wore around his wrist. "I used these, for a long time. I've had them all my life; they're familiar, I know them. But leaning so hard on one thing, especially one thing that can be taken away from me, it's not a good idea. I've been using Athos and the others as a base, recently."

Treville frowned. "And yet you want to be assigned away from them."

"Not away from them. It's more that I need to work with the others. I need to get familiar with how they think, how they feel to me, and I can't do that when I only see them briefly each day."

"You want to use them for your base, too."

"Not in the same way. It takes a lot of time –" Smiling ruefully, he added "And life threatening situations to get to know someone like that. But the better I know them, the easier everything will be."

"What kind of time are we looking at here?"

d'Artagnan shook his head. "It will vary from person to person. Some are much easier to get to know than others. And – as far as it's possible – it's easier to stay with the same person until I'm done, rather than move around." He put the quill down carefully. "I don't want to stop working with the team. Only, maybe, a patrol, a parade. If you can."

Treville nodded. "That should be possible. Do you want me to talk to Athos?"

"No. I'll do it. Thank you, Captain."

He stood, and Treville said "d'Artagnan? I'm curious. Am I part of your shield?"

d'Artagnan nodded. "When I'm in Paris, yes. I can stop if you'd rather."

"No. More people make it more stable, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then it's fine. I assume you don't share anything you might Read."

"No, of course not."

"Good. Go and talk to Athos. I'll see what I can do about getting you onto a patrol in the next few days."

d'Artagnan hesitated at the door. "…unless it's something that might hurt someone."

"Pardon?"

He looked back. "I don't share anything I might Read. Unless it's something that might hurt someone. Then I might bring it to someone's attention. Discretely."

Treville nodded slowly. "That seems reasonable. We may have to have some discussions on what constitutes 'hurt'."

"Of course." d'Artagnan nodded, turning away to leave.

Treville counted under his breath. He'd reached just short of six hundred seconds – far longer than he'd expected – when Athos knocked on the door, pushing it open in the same move. "Did you approve this?"

"It's a reasonable request," Treville said without looking up. "Certainly he can learn from working with other members of the regiment."

"He's part of my team."

Treville looked up, scowling. "And he's not leaving your team. He's only asked for experience with other Musketeers. I've agreed to it. He needs to know how to work with others, even discounting his – circumstances." Studying Athos, he added, "He did explain?"

"After a fashion. Much like Aramis, he seems to have difficulty finding words that make sense."

"Passive Abilities are much easier," Treville agreed. Athos rolled his eyes, but he didn't argue. "I've approved the request. But you are still in charge of his training. If you feel he's spending too much time away, come back to me and we'll reconsider. For now, I will send him on one parade or patrol with the others each week, assuming no other missions interfere."

"That seems reasonable," Athos conceded.

"The very first thing he told me was that he wishes to continue working with you. But he tells me he needs to work with others, and in the absence of any other empath or anyone used to working with them, I will trust his judgment on what he needs."

"He doesn't always have the clearest sense of his own needs," Athos muttered, pulling his hat back on.

"Well, that's something for you to teach him, isn't it?" Treville looked back at his paperwork. "His first assignment is in three days' time. Have him come to me this afternoon for the details."

"Captain," Athos drawled, letting himself out.

Treville sighed, quietly trying to decide whether Porthos or Aramis would be next up to complain about this. In the meantime, he had paperwork to do and schedules to write.

Aramis met d'Artagnan coming into the garrison a little later. He'd agreeably let them buy him drinks for a while the night before, but he begged off eventually. It was late by then and they'd convinced him to stay in what would be his room at the garrison rather than go back to the Bonacieux house.

Aramis took his bag from him. "Did you eat something before you went out?"

"No. I was busy dealing with the hangover you so kindly gave me."

"Eat something now, then."

"I need to talk to Athos."

"Athos is also eating, so that works out." Aramis wrapped a hand over d'Artagnan's shoulders, steering him across to the table. "Didn't you talk to him before you went out?"

"Briefly. And this is new. Partly."

Athos glanced up as Aramis all but pushed d'Artagnan to sit down. "Morning."

"Morning," d'Artagnan muttered, burying his face in his hands.

"Hangover," Aramis mock whispered above his head.

d'Artagnan straightened, rubbing briefly at his face. "Athos, I need to talk to you."

"Talk."

"Jacques Bonacieux is working for the Cardinal."

Athos glanced at Aramis. "You're certain of this?"

"Constance is. She…" He shifted slightly. "She drove me away for fear he'd have me killed."

Aramis grinned broadly; Athos glared, and he sobered, sitting beside him. "Has he hurt her?" Athos asked.

"She says not." He glanced at Athos. "I believe my patron also works for the Cardinal."

"He's getting rather too involved in our doings," Aramis murmured.

"She stopped me just now," d'Artagnan continued, still watching Athos. "To congratulate me."

"Kind of her," Athos said evenly.

"How long have you known she works for the Cardinal?" Aramis asked.

"Since Comtesse de Larroque's trial. I told Athos; he suggested staying with her to see if we could find out anything." Aramis raised an eyebrow, and d'Artagnan added dryly, "My virtue is safe, Aramis. She's done nothing more than talk at me."

"And paid your entry to the contest," Aramis agreed slowly.

d'Artagnan shrugged. "My patroness. She wants me to trust her."

"What does Jacques Bonacieux have to do with it?"

d'Artagnan shook his head. "He'd been in my room, I think. Some of my things were moved."

"He won't do that here," Athos pointed out. "Eat something. Stay away from the Bonacieux house – away from it, d'Artagnan, am I clear? And if you see your patroness again, continue to play along. Promise her nothing, though."

"I'll be careful," d'Artagnan promised.

"Good. Now, eat. We have training to start."

d'Artagnan shook his head. "There's more I need to tell you, Athos. Can we go to my room?"

"There's Porthos, I should talk to him," Aramis announced loudly, pushing away from the table and wandering away. He stopped just close enough to hear them, fussing with his gloves to try and hide what he was doing.

"My room," d'Artagnan said quietly. "Please?"

"Why?"

"Because you're going to be angry with me."

"I see. Bring the meal. You need something to soak up that alcohol."

Aramis turned to catch Athos' eye as he stood. Athos shrugged; he didn't seem to have any idea what was going on either.

Aramis sighed, going to look for Porthos. They should probably be ready to step in. Just in case.

All the rooms were empty by now, Musketeers and apprentices down in the yard or out attending to duties. d'Artagnan followed Athos into his room, absently putting his meal on the chest of drawers.

"Well, what is it?" Athos asked, watching him.

d'Artagnan sat on the edge of the bed, because Athos would probably sit too, and d'Artagnan would feel better if Athos wasn't standing over him. "It's about Milady."

Athos had been about to sit on the room's one chair; now he hesitated, studying d'Artagnan. "What about her?"

"The night we met at the inn."

"She killed a man and framed you. You've told me."

"No. I mean, yes, but…"

"d'Artagnan," Athos said patiently. "Whatever it is, say it. We can't deal with it until you do."

d'Artagnan nodded, closing his eyes as he said quickly, "When she murdered the Spaniard, she left his room and came to mine."

Athos stared at him. d'Artagnan badly wanted to stand, to put them back on the same level, but he didn't dare move.

"Do you always take strange women to your bed?" Athos asked eventually, voice hard and flat. d'Artagnan had already shifted his shields to block him, and he was glad of it now. Athos' anger always hurt him, even when it wasn't aimed at him.

"Never before or since," d'Artagnan told him. "I've never so much as touched her since. I had no idea who she was. I didn't even know her name, not until she told Constance."

"Milady de Winter is not her name."

"I know, but I didn't know anything, Athos. I swear I had no idea who she was."

"Then why did you sleep with her, d'Artagnan? For heaven's sake, chasing Constance was one thing. At least you knew who she was. Why would you take a stranger you'd seen with another man to your bed?"

"I was grieving!"

Athos was staring again, a different expression on his face now. d'Artagnan closed his eyes, consciously lowering his voice to something less than a shout.

"I was grieving," he repeated, when he thought he could say it without screaming. "My father died in my arms in the mud outside some inn I made him stop at. There was nothing in me but grief and guilt and pain. I wanted to feel something. Milady wanted me, I could feel it, and I let it overwhelm me. I pretended it was real. I'm sorry."

Athos turned away, staring out of the window. d'Artagnan waited, running fingers over his beads to try and calm down again. Shouting was not going to help right now.

"You didn't know who she was," Athos said finally, still looking out the window.

"No."

"And now that you do?"

"You asked me to stay close to her," d'Artagnan reminded him.

Athos nodded slowly. "Yes. Now more than ever I believe I should not have. If Anne ensnared you that early on – she has a plan, d'Artagnan, and her plans never work out well for those around her."

"I promised to kill the man who scarred her."

Athos turned back, looking at him, and d'Artagnan continued quickly, "There are scars on her neck from the noose. She told me that the man she loved tried to murder her."

"And you offered to kill him."

"I wanted…" d'Artagnan shook his head. "I thought she was a good woman. I wanted her to be a good woman. A good person."

"I'm familiar with that feeling," Athos muttered.

"She hasn't mentioned it since. But she doesn't know that I know who she is. She'll call it in some day."

"Probably. It would appeal to her sense of irony, having your promise to kill me."

"I won't do it."

"I wasn't worried," Athos assured him.

d'Artagnan swallowed. "Do you want me to tell the others?"

"I want you not to tell them, for now. Not until we know what her plan is." Athos held his gaze. "If you think she is dangerous, back away from her, d'Artagnan. Your safety is more important than her plan."

"It might not be, depending on what her plan is."

"Your safety is always more important."

d'Artagnan nodded quickly. "All right."

"Good. Eat. If we take much longer, Aramis will come looking for us."

"That or we'll miss training."

"An inauspicious start to your first day as a Musketeer," Athos agreed solemnly. "Eat, d'Artagnan. Anne's not making her move today. We have time."