The Musketeers - Ascension of Athos
Chapter Eleven The Haven Part 1
Notes- Athos this chapter only
Athos story along with the regulars being - Aramis, Porthos, d'Artagnan, M D Treville, Milady De Winter, Constance Bonacieux, King Loius, Queen Anne and the duke
His stead slowed and it had been the second time since leaving Treville and the musketeers behind at the garrison that he had let the horse have the reign. With them now being far from Paris and no where near Pinor either. That he was nearing a place that he had only visited twice and not once while on duty.
With it being far enough away from the main thorougher fair without being completely of the beaten track. With his stead having brought him northeast of Paris via the chateaux of Chantilly which also was some distance behind them.
The landscape now broadening to magnetic beauty the trees still surrounding him cathedral like and he was deep in Thiérache green pastures now coming into view in the far distance the trees thinning. As he drew a long breath his stead now at a content walk and they had kept a more or less constant pace for the last two and a half hours.
With it being the early afternoon with the pain from the fresh wounds remaining, as he now stopped jumping gingerly down. Easing himself to his full height slowly bitting his lower lip the pain from the chest wound decreasing as he checked the bandages.
On the three main wounds and they were intact apart from the one at his left wrist. With him painfully covering the stitched up slit on the wrist fresh blood still seeping from it and it was not even thinking about healing. Though it was a lot better than it had been.
As his stead now grazed meaningfully as he now looked to what had been cleverly hidden at the saddle. The satchel much needed for any trip as a musketeer as he slowly opened it.
Guessing his friends had made the point of looking out for him though he did not feel much like doing that for himself. As he ignored the food in the satchel and the wine, instead it was the larger container that held water that only interested him.
As he took it out taking both the satchel and slowly with care the saddle of the horse, the rains as well. Letting the horse, his masterly stead who had been given to him by Trevillle when he became a musketeer complete freedom.
The horse giving him a puzzled glance as he stroked the black mane the horse taking the hint. Snorting giving him an almost comical nod of approval before putting his head down to eat the fertile grass in this small enclosed meadow.
Trees surrounding it from all sides, a small stream also cutting through the rich soil and grass with the ground falling away steeply at the far side of the meadow trees on the incline as well. As he took a slow sip of the water. His muscles still aching from the journey here and the Queen indeed had been correct, that the wounds needed much longer to heal than he was giving them.
As he stretched slightly trying not to annoy the shoulder wound to much. His hand for a second touching the locket at his chest his blue green eyes closing for a moment not going there.
With him slowly opening them instead taking in this haven around him and it was peaceful here, nature in its element. As he kept hold of the water canteen deliberately now taking off the jewelled sword the hair loom which was his and belonged to his great grandfather.
A man he now knew to be of royal blood as he unsheathed it finding what energy he could as he sunk the tip of the blade into the dark soil. Placing the sheath beside it and though the sun shone from the blue sky in the heavens above it was cool here the woodland breeze keeping it as such.
The cloak from the queen proofing useful its rich fabric soft and warm. His features clouding as he rested on the saddle he had discarded from the horse. Finding it good to rest his body that was telling him it had had more than enough.
With it being this place this patch of woodland he had come to the first time Treville had cut him down to size. Managing at the same time to twist his arm to becoming a musketeer.
Something he had not once regretted that if anything it suited him being just that or at least it had. The captaincy something he was glad had fell through thanks to the man who was responsible for his current wounds, wounds which had almost taken his life while at it.
The duke now dead as I discard one of my gloves taking of the ring which had come directly from the queen herself. My handsome features clouding as I look to the royal insignia on the ring and that I have been in some sort of denial over my new heritage.
As my thoughts turn back to long before the musketeers, the king and queen, Treville or even Milady. Instead remembering my father as he had been and what was now clear.
Though I had assumed his favour lay with Thomas it now appeared not if he were to believe his cousins words, those of the king and on that he knew it to be the truth.
As he swallowed hard his head bowing touching his forehead his musketeer hat lying to the side and the underlying fact what his father had bestowed on him. That he could not deny that he had somehow always known he was the favourite.
The thought not doing him any good now with that fact causing all which would eventually send him towards Milady and Paris. His father being the individual who had instigated it.
His eyes snapping open in new pain and what he had somehow managed to tell Aramis though not in so much detail a little under a week ago. His right hand now closing over the ring.
With the ring like his family being something he could not change or give back. Plus that even now these many years later he missed his brother a lot and Catherine a woman who had been his earliest playmate along with Thomas.
His father a man who he loved as a son but never completely understood something that he had at least gained new light upon. With him not mentioning that to Aramis the other older musketeer probably reading enough between the lines of what little words he had given on the subject.
As he took a longer sip of the water enjoying the cool taste on his still dry lips. His steed having moved away a little the head still down grazing contently as his blue green eyes focused on his surroundings.
The clean air filling his lungs deep the healing power of the landscape around him helping lift the heavy thoughts which continued to drift.
TO BE CONTINUED