SAVOY DESOLATION.
Chapter Twenty One.
Musketeer Garrison
Following Day.
It had been a rather woeful and despondent time for the musketeer regiment in the past three days, having lost two of their best soldiers. The men had gone about their duties as normal, making certain they stayed in pairs at all times. Captain Tréville had stated to his men that they had to remain vigilant at all times and not to let down their guard in any given scenario.
Delivery carts and traders had been double checked on arrival. Even doctor Lemay needed authority before he was allowed through the gates. The physician having groused his thoughts out loud to Aramis and Athos.
"It is just a precaution my dear doctor Lemay." said Athos softly. "It is not everyday the guards see you, to them you could have been a would be assassin."
Aramis glanced at his friend and nodded in agreement.
Lemay raised a brow and smirked slightly as he opened his medical bag.
"Mmmn...I can indeed concur with your thinking on this Athos...it is a somewhat barbaric deed that has been committed on two young men."
Lemay turned to Aramis and smiled.
"You are indeed looking the usual Aramis we all know my friend, tell me! how are you feeling?
The marksman smiled.
"I am fareing well doctor and its all thanks to you and my dear brothers."
Aramis patted Athos on the arm as he spoke, making the swordsman smirk slightly.
"Without you all I do not think I could have gotten through it. And I feel better for being back in Paris."
Lemay grinned as he lifted Aramis's shirt to check his back wounds.
"Good! good! that is what I like to hear gentlemen."
"Ah yes the wounds are clearing up very nicely." continued Lemay, as he prodded and poked the marksmans torso. "Are your ribs still painful?
"Not nearly as bad as they were, at least I can walk upright now." replied Aramis shooting a glance to Athos.
"Do not fret doctor...we are keeping a sharp eye on him. grinned the swordsman.
Aramis smiled ruefully at his friend.
Athos rasied his brows.
"They will not permit me to do a thing doctor."
Lemay smiled. "Good...that is how it should be my friend...you are still not fit for duty."
Aramis frowned. "But soon surely?
Lemay closed his medical bag and shook his head.
"The last thing you want is to agitate those ribs, you could end up doing more damage than good and really hurt yourself badly...you must bide your time."
Athos looked at his friend with 'told you so' written on his face.
Aramis tucked his shirt back into his breeches and sat at the table. He glanced up at Athos and Lemay.
"You know the doctor is right mon ami." said Athos.
Aramis nodded. "Yes I know."
Lemay smiled.
"Well gentlemen I must make haste and get back to the palace, I will look in on you Aramis in a weeks time, in the mean time do not hesitate to inform me if needs be. So I will bid you both good day."
Athos smiled as he pushed open the door for the physician.
"Thank you doctor." added Aramis.
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Royal Palace.
Captain Tréville, Porthos and d'Artagnan entered the throne room, their booted footfalls reverberated off the adorned walls. The three men paused and bowed in front of both young monarchs. The cardinal stood to the kings left, his jaw twitched as he glanced towards Tréville.
"Ahh Tréville...it is somewhat a tragedy that has befallen your two musketeers, am I do be in fear of my own life and that of my dear wife?
Anne figited in her chair as she shot her husband an iritated glance.
Tréville eyed the monarch, always thinking of himself first as usual. Always has to be about him.
Porthos and d'Artagnan side glanced one another.
"Your safety is always paramount Sire...my men are on full alert...I vow that no harm will come to you."
"I trust you have the palace secured Tréville? asked Richelieu tersely.
Tréville clenched his teeth as he glared at the interfering cleric.
"My men always have the palace secured your eminence. It is the entrance that was disregarded, something I might add the red guard may have overlooked."
Richelieu features reddened as he glared at the musketeer captain.
Both Porthos and d'Artagnan oppressed their amusement, having noticed the queen actually grin slightly.
The king raised his brows and smirked as he shot the cleric a glance.
"Thats you told my dear cardinal."
"I was most distressed to hear of the most infortunate deaths of your two men captain." murmered the queen suddenly. "It is a most heinous crime that has been committed, I do hope the wretch is apprehended soon so he can be brought to justice."
Richelieu rasied his brow and eyed her, his lips pursed tightly.
Tréville hadn't failed to notice him.
He smiled at the queen. "I thank you your majesty...I have men out searching as we speak."
Louis glanced at his wife before eyeing Tréville.
"The cardinal has informed me that a musketeer assassin is roaming Paris." he asked. "Would it be the renegade who escaped from the Bastille...the same one that attacked musketeer Aramis?
Tréville glanced from Richelieu to Louis.
"Indeed Sire...yet another heedless deed by the guards."
Louis suddenly turned on Richelieu, his face showing enrage.
"I do believe you have much to discuss cardinal with your advisers, it would seem the red guard are failing in their duties, I suggest you have the men reprimanded before there is another tradgedy within our midst."
Richelieu was seething as he glared in Tréville's direction.
"I will see to at haste Sire."
"See you do cardinal...see you do."
Richelieu bowed before turning on his heel and striding from the royal chamber, his cloak trailing out behind him as he went.
Tréville could have sworn he could hear the man cursing under his breath as he went.
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Musketeer Garison.
Both Athos and Aramis sat in Tréville's office chamber. Athos had asked the marksman to aid him search through the mens personal details looking for some kind of deceit or false identities.
"We could be searching for an age mon ami...what exactly are we looking for? asked the marksman holding up several parchments and scrolls.
The two friends were sitting at Tréville's desk surrounded by dozens of missives that had been written over the years about each soldier within the regiment.
Athos who sat opposite his brother was scanning down the page of one of the scrolls.
"You will know as soon as you see it." replied the swordsman as he carried on his scrutiny.
Aramis shrugged his shoulders and opend the next parchment.
"I feel like I am prying into their personal life." he murmered picking up his cup of water and sipping it.
Athos glanced up and raised a brow. "Once this is done my friend we can clear all our regiment of deception."
Aramis moved his finger down the page as he read. "I am finding it very difficult to think any of our men are involved in such a heinous and barbaric deed.
The marksman mused for a moment as he thought.
"How can I put it...they all seem honourable men."
"Seem my friend is not enough...they have to be ARE! honourable men, it just takes one rotten apple in the keg to effect the rest."
Aramis frowned and nodded in agreement. He grinned at the swordsman.
"You have a certain way with words mon ami."
Athos said nothing he lifted his eyes up, glanced towards the marksman, a slight smirk played on his lips.
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Royal Palace.
Stables and Paddock.
The horses pawed at the ground in agitation, a couple more whinnied and snorted. The two stable grooms glanced up from across the paddock, both swapping perplexed glances as they tacked a couple of beasts ready for their dignitaries.
"What be wrong with them? asked one of the lads gruffly.
"Probably a bloody fox, seen one yesterday, I soon chased it off...it won't hurt the horses."
The lad stood and grabbed his pistol.
"They are spooked about somethin'.
"Leave it be Farrél...just chase the thing off."
Farrél began to walk towards the stable, the whinnies had become louder.
"Somethin ain't right." he muttered as he walked.
He reached out and began to stroke the nose of one of the horses. Whilst patting another on the flank.
"Shuuuushh boy...shuuuush...what ails you so."
Farrél scanned around the stable, he could see no fox, or even any suggestion of one ever being there. He slowly crept into the next stable, the horse was pawing the ground fiercely.
"Shhhush boy what...
Farrél stopped in his tracks as he stared wide eyed at the sight before him, he slowly backed out of the stable and called his fellow groom.
"Nicolas! Nicolas! he yelled. Anguish evident in his voice.
The lad looked up instantly as he watched his friend suddenly throw up.
Nicolas jumped up and raced across the paddock.
"What is it...what's wrong?
Farrél was pointing towards the third cubicle down, as he dropped to his knees and threw up more vomit.
"There...there...is a de...dead mus musketeer in th..there."
Nicolas rushed into the stable, the horse still agitated and snorting. He slowly led the animal out of the cubicle and peered behind into the empty space.
There lay the musketeer, his own sword skewered through his stomach, blood had soaked into the hay turning the ground scarlet.
"Oh God...no! he shrieked. "I need to find Captain Tréville at haste."
Nicolas ran off leaving Farrél, the lad still crouched to the ground and wiping vomit from his mouth with the back of his hand. He turned and glared back at the stable, the horses still agitated.
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Leon watched as disorder suddenly erupted around the grand hall. He stood to attention on the other side of the chamber door and shot a glance towards Marcel. Both musketeers watched as one of the grooms rushed through the wide entrance doors towards the royal chambers. Other courtiers paused and stared as the boy raced down the passageway almost colliding with one of the kings advisors, the man halting in his stride and cursing after the lad.
"Now what? murmered Marcel shooting a glance towards Leon.
Leon smirked, he knew damn well what the ado was all about...they had found his latest killing."
"Maybe he has lost one of the horses...lets hope for his sake it is not the kings."
Marcel frowned with a snort as he eyed his comrade.
They both suddenly glanced up as running footfalls reverberated around the ornate hall.
Captain Tréville, Porthos and d'Artagnan emerged from around the corner and rushed towards the entrance followed by a group of red guards and the stable lad.
Marcel and Leon swapped glances.
"I don't like the look of that." murmered Marcel looking perplexed. "What is all the sudden haste about."
Leon shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.
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Royal Stables.
The red guard had dispersed around the grounds of the palace as they searched for the killer.
xx
The horses had been led from the stables, an air of silence filled the surroundings and paddock area. The two grooms sat on the ground cradling their heads in their hands trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed. Doctor Lemay had given both lads a mild sedation herb to calm them down. The physician was now standing over the body of the dead musketeer knowing full well there was nothing he could do for the musketeer. He gently closed the mans agonising eyes.
Porthos had crouched down, his eyes glazed, his face full of depair. Tréville stood rigid as he glared down at his slaughtered musketeer. What was going on, how did this bastard gain entrance to the grounds or palace for that matter. He felt like he was losing his grip on everything, another dead musketeer, another distressed family to inform.
Tears ran down d'Artganan's face as he gently covered the body of Pierre. He glanced across at Porthos, he had wept silently and was now full of rage. He knew the man well, he would find this evil killer if it was the last thing he did, in fact they all would.
Doctor Lemay had called his aids over, ordering the men to take the body away.
"They will take him to the morgue captain...if you are ready?
Tréville jolted from his reverie and nodded. He felt the bile in his mouth.
"Yes...of course...yes."
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Leon and Marcel stood heeding d'Artagnan's woeful words as he informed the two men of Pierre's death. Marcel's face turned suddenly pallid.
"Dear Lord! he exclaimed...what is happening...who is this evil renegade...now Pierre. Who is next...and why was he in the stable alone?
d'Artagnan shook his head slowly and sighed heavily.
"We will find out in the coming days...I promise...the captain is determined to bring this killer to justice. You men stay together when you finish your duty."
Leon eyed the Gascon. Just who the hell is he to give orders, oh yes he is one of Tréville's inseperables is he not? Well I do believe you will be next to die dear d'Artagnan. I will enjoy that!
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TBC...
Hi Guys,
Thanks again for the fab reveiws...you are so kind to me.
Well how long will it be until they fathom out the killers identity, and will Jorge actually gain access to the garrison so he can kill Aramis.
And it looks like Leon is hell bent on killing d'Artagnan next.
The plot thickens...
See you next time.
Love Pippa xxxx
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