Epilogue
The wagon full of women and children, that were covered in cloaks and bedding, held on to bags of provisions and simple belongings that they held dear. Not once did they give cause to complain about the lack of space that the cart contained, when they were so used to circumstances quite like these. What awaited them down the road a bit farther gave them reason to not give protests against their predicament. Three Spanish brothers, who were either husbands, fathers, sons, or friends to the people in the cart, rode in front of them leading them home.
The Spanish language that escaped out of the children's mouths along the journey, gave Porthos a smile as he drove the cart through the partly melted snow covered highway. Their squeaky voices were not understandable to the West African/French man, but the excitement sensed in their words was. One even tried to say in crude French -with his mother's help- that he wished to drive the cart. The picture of Porthos holding a child on his lap with the reins of the horse in the kid's smallish hands gave the three musketeers, following closely behind the cart, the permission to laugh at the unusual sight.
"He's never going to live this one down," d'Artagnan laughed at Porthos who turned around suddenly and gave him a deathly stare after realizing that they were talking about him.
"He's secretly loving it," Aramis' snarky comment was followed with a wide grin on his face for Porthos' behalf.
Athos quietly riding at the rear, pushed his horse a bit more to catch up to d'Artagnan and Aramis who continued to tease their friend.
"You should trade positions with him Aramis," Athos hinted in whisper. "Get a little practice."
The smile quickly wiped off of Aramis' face as Athos bluntly gave his opinion. The stare Aramis gave his friend told him to stay quiet, but it gained no upper hand in the silent conversation they had with their brooding eyes. How the queen's pregnancy came to be, was undisclosed information that stayed strictly between the two of them. And Aramis desired for it to stay that way.
"Practice?" d'Artagnan, only hearing the end of the conversation, asked while looking over at Aramis who was exchanging his hardened look with Athos.
"Nothing," Aramis said quickly returning to his normal attitude of optimism while Athos remained being his desensitized self. "Athos apparently doesn't know any good jokes."
"That duel we had while I was partially disabled, you remember?" Athos referred to the rematch he partook of against Aramis in a sword duel a day after they returned to Paris. The twenty livre rematch.
Aramis already hoped that his friend had forgotten it, but quickly answered with a quiet yes so that the conversation would end much more sooner.
"The one where I beat you," Athos reminded him while rubbing the back of his head now freed of stitches, "That was a joke."
Aramis looked over to his friend that now displayed a look of cockiness written all over his face. He took a deep breath of air and nodded in half agreement.
"But you weren't partially disabled," He said while d'Artagnan looked on amused at their conversation, "That was only just a scratch."
"Scratch or no, you still owe me."
"Twenty livre was it?" d'Artagnan imputed, resulting in death stare from Aramis this time.
Aramis, raising up slightly from his saddle, reached at his side for his coin purse that he threw without warning to his friend. Athos caught the unexpected gift instinctively and placed it in his saddle bag. A nod of thanks was added.
"Don't bet on duels you can't win, Aramis," Athos quipped as he gained speed to join Porthos and his babysitting activities. He didn't turn around to see his friend's disapproval of the matter written on his face.
"He's not gonna let that one go for awhile," d'Artagnan remarked while giving a rap on Aramis' shoulder for encouragement.
"No," Aramis said trying to reverse back to a happier time when he wasn't so broke, "No, he's not."
He stayed behind as d'Artagnan caught up to the cart full of Spanish young ones and spent the remainder of the trip occasionally wishing that he had won that second fight and that Athos would be less self-conceited.
But that was never going to happen.