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Chapter Fourteen: The Note

"I have a problem and need your help."

Athos's left eyebrow rises inquisitively at his declaration, but then must have registered the caution d'Artagnan had used to utter it. The older man briefly tugs on an ear lobe and then glances towards where Jacques is still cleaning out stalls before shifting to the entrance. If d'Artagnan has interpreted the silent communication correctly, then Athos has realized that a public conversation would not be the wisest. D'Artagnan dips his chin ever so slightly in confirmation.

His friend for the moment mouths the words trust me before saying aloud:

"I don't know why I bother."

Anyone eavesdropping would easily be able to hear the heavily implied with you at the end of that declaration.

He wishes he hadn't had to hear it though. As Athos storms out of the stables, looking fed up and angry, d'Artagnan can't help but feel rejected and guilty despite knowing it was all an act for anyone close enough to spy on them. He does trust Athos; trusts the older man will figure out a way for the four of them to talk in private. Whether or not he will ever be trusted again after his confession is something d'Artagnan dares not think about at the moment lest he fall into despair.

The apple he's just eaten turns sour in his stomach; he has to swallow thickly a few times in order to keep it from reappearing in a disgusting fashion.

For so long now, he's had to separate himself from his friends' companionship, largely due to his own choices, and now it was almost time to reap the consequences. Will that separation be permanent if somehow a miracle occurs and he can avoid all the tricks and traps of Richelieu's latest offer to help him cover a shortfall?

At a loss with what to do with himself – training with his lack of focus seems like a bad idea – d'Artagnan decides to go back to grooming his horse. The animal must have sensed his turmoil, because he'd barely resumed brushing before it moved to hang its head over his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. His answering smile is genuine even if it feels a bit brittle, and he scratches a couple of his horse's favorite spots in thanks.

With each stroke of the brush, he can feel his thoughts calm though the underlying anxiety regarding the situation he finds himself in remains. What little calm he's managed to achieve instantly vanishes when Rigaud enters the stables and orders Jacques to get a horse ready before relaying the news that Captain Tréville wants to see him.

Feeling the dread grow within him, d'Artagnan quickly cleans up before heading towards the Captain's office. As he makes his way up the stairs and comes to a stop outside the door, he imagines he'll see Tréville and his three friends all waiting for him inside. He imagines telling them about his debt and the deep hole he finds himself in due to the Cardinal's latest offer. He imagines they'll all be disappointed, angry, and ready to wash their hands of him. He imagines all that and more as he knocks on the door and waits for the invitation to enter.

When he steps inside though, d'Artagnan finds something he hadn't imagined: none of his three friends were in the room.

Confused, he glances around, but soon realizes it is only him and Tréville in the room. His Captain's expression is giving absolutely nothing away; it's more impenetrable than anything he's seen on Athos's face since their first meeting.

"D'Artagnan, I need you to deliver this letter." Tréville holds out two documents and waits for them to be taken before saying anything more. "Your instructions are outlined in the accompanying note. You will leave immediately, but be sure to take provisions enough to last a day."

After having expected something entirely different, he's bewildered but still knows his duty. "Yes, Captain."

He waits a moment to see if the older man will elaborate or mention his friends; instead Tréville only says, "Dismissed."

It's not until he's in the stables and standing next to his saddle that d'Artagnan unfolds the note he'd been given with the letter. When he immediately recognizes the hand of the note's author, he has to fight to remain composed.

Deliver the missive as addressed, and then make your way to your usual campsite. Look for us to be there by the time the moon is at its zenith.

The note is unsigned, but Athos's handwriting is unmistakable and it provides hope for the time being. He looks down at the letter he'd been given to deliver. It's for a baron southeast of Paris. Delivering it would not take more than a couple of hours, maybe three, one way. From there, making his way to his usual campsite…

And that's when d'Artagnan finally realizes something: your usual campsite. How could Athos know about that? And not just Athos, but more than likely also Aramis and Porthos. He could have sworn he's never been followed on the nights when he was supposed to have been with "Rachelle." What else did the older men know?

It's a near thing, but he manages to not throw up, faint, or have a breakdown at the realizations. Instead, he forces himself to take slow, deep breaths and tack up his horse. His duty now is to deliver the letter; realizations and their implications could wait until he was out on the road.

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It's not long after d'Artagnan rides out of the Garrison that he starts having a bad feeling in his gut that isn't the apple he'd eaten. While he's still within the city, it is difficult to determine what exactly his bad feeling was trying to tell him, but after the second time he thought he saw a flash of red, the answer seemed obvious. He was being followed by an unknown number of Red Guards.

He probably should be surprised by this fact, but he finds that's not the case. After d'Artagnan had fooled him the last time, it made sense for the Cardinal to send people to spy on him. It's why he had been so careful in the stables when talking to Athos. He just wasn't sure how he was going to evade them in order to meet his friends later that night.

Eventually, he's free of the city and starting to ride out on the open road. As he goes around a bend in the road, he looks behind him in time to see two Red Guards dismounting their horses and looking like they're going to be settling in for a wait. He chuckles to himself at the thought that the two men are going to be waiting a very long time for him to return, especially if he doesn't go back via the same road. It then occurs to him to wonder if Richelieu might not have some of his guards stationed at the other roads into and out of Paris to keep an eye on him. He tries and fails to squash the paranoia that is rising in him as he rides farther away from the city. Because he keeps looking behind him for anyone who might be following him, it ends up taking him much longer than it should to get to the baron's home.

On his return trip to Paris, d'Artagnan uses the road he traveled out on, but soon turns off onto a rough, rarely used path that runs between two other properties. When he sees that no one is following him, he sighs in relief. Up until that point, he'd not been entirely certain he wasn't being followed.

Not long after confirming he's alone, he cuts across the countryside and soon reaches his campsite. He'd found it by accident one day when he'd been trying to find shelter from a raging rainstorm, and had used it ever since as his escape. His campsite is not as big as it may look from the outside, but it had suited his needs more than once. It consisted of an odd rock formation which jutted out of the ground almost totally surrounded by a bunch of wildly overgrown bushes of some unknown type. The space under the jutting rock was just big enough to provide shelter for one, maybe two, people. Aside from the shelter the place provided, there was an open area he believes should comfortably fit him and his friends. He's only seen signs of previous occupancy just the one time, and has often wondered why that was the case, though it took him almost falling into the recess before he'd found it the first time so he knew it was well hidden.

The sun had almost completely set by the time he finished settling his horse down for the night, using the bushes to help hide the animal's presence. It was still some hours until the moon, now waning gibbous, would reach its zenith, and his friends could be there at any time. Even though he knew he hadn't been followed, he was still feeling more than a modicum of paranoia.

Strategically and tactically, it wasn't the best place to set up camp. It wasn't near a source of water, he did not have the advantage of high ground, and the thick tangle of bushes blocked most avenues of escape. The only redeeming quality of the area was the protection the jutting rock provided during bad weather.

Yet, he had continued to return to the place time and again. He had felt it a good place for him to hide from the world when he needed to be alone or somewhere to think through things. And then he found a new use for the place. With each visit to await making his next payment to the Cardinal, his dark thoughts regarding his situation, including guilt and shame, seemed to permeate the place, and transform it from one of peacefulness to one of suffering. He no longer felt as comfortable in the pseudo-sanctuary as he once did. One way or another, after this night, unless it was an emergency, d'Artagnan doubted he would ever return to his usual campsite.

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Next time: Chapter Fifteen: The Gathering

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Many thanks to Celticgal1041 for proofing. Any remaining mistakes are Richelieu's fault. ;o)

Thanks for reading!