At last, the next chapter and I appreciate how patient you have all been. Perhaps a little shorter than my usual chapters but the story continues and apprehension mounts as they travel on to Desmarais' estate (they will arrive there in the next chapter - promise!)

Thank you to all those who read, favorited and commented on 'Dinner for One' (especially the guests, to whom I could not reply.) It broke some five weeks of no writing with the show, run up to Christmas and the festive period itself with family.

If I haven't said it to you already, Happy New Year!

CHAPTER 26

I

All things considered, the four slept surprisingly well but a mild excess of good wine possibly had something to do with that. As they broke their fast, Aramis glanced surreptitiously in Athos' direction more than once. The man looked reasonably rested having passed an unbroken night. Aramis had lain awake for some time, listening to the steady breathing and waiting for any slight hitch that might warn of an impending nightmare in his friend but there had been nothing and he, likewise, had eventually succumbed to the pull of much-needed slumber.

Perhaps even more remarkable was that Athos was now eating without complaint or evasion. He had never been one to demonstrate a hearty appetite, unlike Porthos, but on this morning, he ate as though he was enjoying the fare set before them by the innkeeper's wife. He gave the outward appearance of being completely relaxed for the first time since he had returned to Paris, but Aramis knew the countenance for what it really was; he had seen it far too many times. It belied the underlying tension that signalled Athos' readiness, his eagerness to be off, to be putting the latest plan into action, and could there ever be a plan so significant as the one which they were about to undertake? It was the plan that would bring down the man who was a traitor to France but, more important still, it was to destroy the man Athos held responsible for the deaths of the woman he loved and his son. To a casual onlooker, his calmness presented a man in total control, but it was an utterly deceptive composure. Aramis knew that in another time, another place, it had always concealed a highly skilled and dangerous man, but three years had elapsed since they had last stood shoulder to shoulder to fight a common foe. How much more dangerous had Athos become in the intervening years when, for the main part, he had had to rely upon his own experience and abilities to survive as a spy in his country's service? Then add into the mix the magnitude of the personal tragedy that had befallen him, and he was, without doubt, an unknown quantity. At times, there emerged more glimpses of the 'old' Athos and for that Aramis was thankful, although this still fell short of alleviating his gnawing worry.

They left the inn early. It had been their intention from the moment they arrived, but it was a departure borne of necessity to escape the suffocating attention of the innkeeper. Once he had heard part of the story as to why two of them had injuries, he was anxious for their well-being, wanting to call in the help of a local woman who had knowledge as a healer. When he had gone, not convinced by their insistence that Aramis was more than capable of tending them once warm water and cloths had been provided, Porthos scoffed that the man would probably have charged them a high price for his assistance. They had already bartered long and hard for a replacement saddle for Athos' mount and knew they had paid over the odds, for the make was poor in comparison with the sabotaged saddle and definitely less comfortable for the discerning horseman, but he and the Musketeer Captain could hardly arrive at the Baron's chateau riding double as they had done at the inn. D'Artagnan had later insisted, with the help of more coins, that the damaged saddle be looked after until a group of musketeers rode through within the next couple of days and they would collect it. He conceded that it was a very gracious offer but, no, the innkeeper was not required to have it repaired; there were skilled men in the Paris garrison who could deal with it. The innkeeper might not have met a musketeer before, but he knew the significance of the fleur de lis at d'Artagnan's shoulder and the prospect of more soldiers arriving soon who would need sustenance had his eyes lighting up at the lucrative opportunity.

"I don't think he ever actually realised who you were, Aramis," Porthos laughed as they rode beyond the village boundary.

"And for that I am mighty thankful," Aramis breathed in relief.

"Oh, I don't know," d'Artagnan added. "He might have let us stay there for free had he known that under his roof was none other than the First Minister of France."

Porthos laughed again. "I don't think 'e would have coped with that idea. He'd have had heart failure at not bein' able to do enough. Anyway, he probably would've doubled or even tripled 'is prices. 'E made enough out of us as it is."

"You assume he would have been glad to see the Minister," Athos said dryly. "Perhaps, because of what Aramis represents, the welcome could have been less than cordial."

"I don't know what you mean!" Aramis objected and, for another half hour, there continued a banter and light insults passing between the four that was more than a little reminiscent of their days in the saddle as Tréville's men. If any of them paused to realise it, they would have felt a warm fondness at the memory which was also tinged with a sadness at the days long gone.

On a more mundane level, it passed the time and they rode on, alternating periods of silent contemplation with gentle teasing and a more serious reflection on the task ahead.

It was nearing midday when they spotted riders cresting a hill ahead of them and approaching at a steady pace. The four stopped and d'Artagnan took out his spyglass. Having inspected the approaching group, he grinned.

"It's Brujon on the return journey with Desmarais' prisoners."

Athos began to look about him and pointed to a stand of trees a little way to their right. "I will take cover over there."

Porthos frowned. "Why would you want to do that?"

"The men who are the prisoners will recognise me, so you would not be able to introduce me by any other name, nor would we be able to explain my inclusion in this group. We do not yet know how things will transpire and it could compromise me in my work if I needed to return to Louviers."

"They are sound reasons," Aramis agreed. "Is there anything you would have us ask when we meet Brujon?"

Athos nodded. "Ascertain that the local men have not been badly treated and question them closely about the uprising and what led to it. Do they know anything else of Desmarais' dealings? They will be uneasy so make sure that these men know that they are being taken to Paris for their own protection." He looked in the direction of the approaching riders. "I must leave you and will re-join you when they have passed."

Spurring his horse into a gallop, he broke away from the group and headed for the trees where he was soon lost from sight.

Minutes later, Brujon, his company and the dejected prisoners met them; for some, there were enthusiastic greetings.

Brujon looked around him. "I thought I saw –"

"The three of us were hoping to meet you," d'Artagnan interrupted loudly, emphasising the word 'three'. "We would like to speak with the prisoners and have a small errand for you at an inn not too many miles back along the road."

He wanted to instruct Brujon to collect the damaged saddle and hoped the young man would not study too closely the saddles they were currently using, for they were all bona fide musketeer ones and recognisable as such. The replacement was, of course, on the horse of the elusive rider and the Captain wanted to avoid being asked more searching questions.

II

Athos waited until after Brujon and his party had moved on slowly and disappeared around a distant bend in the road for he did not want anyone to turn back and espy a fourth person.

"Brujon reckons we should make good time to Desmarais' estate from here," Porthos said as Athos re-joined them. "'E seems to think we could do it at a good pace in a couple of hours. It's taken them a while to get this far because two of the prisoners are not used to bein' on a horse!"

Athos nodded in understanding. "They are men who struggle to eke out a living on a patch of land; any animal they have must be able to work for a living rather than just providing the means of getting from one place to another. Some of the beasts for ploughing are shared amongst the villagers." He became serious. "How did they seem?"

D'Artagnan took a deep breath. "They are at least walking wounded with visible cuts and bruises from beatings, especially the last one to be apprehended. The explanation is that he was 'avoiding arrest'."

"I'm sure 'e was," Porthos growled.

D'Artagnan continued. "Brujon says the worst is a broken rib on one man and a couple of cracked ribs on another so he is taking that into consideration as he sets the pace for their journey. Given his very recent return from Paris, I doubt that Desmarais had sufficient time or opportunity to warn his men to treat the prisoners with a little more care but they have, at least, been issued with food and water during their incarceration."

"They were fortunate." Athos' expression was grim. "It could have been much worse but at least they are out of his clutches now. What about their accounts of the uprising?"

"We obviously didn't spend too long questioning them; we did not want them to think they were being interrogated on the road but what they told us fits in with the accounts that you heard. They could not pay the increased taxes and tried to approach the Baron but got nowhere. Then the women appealed to him, led by Sylvie. Shortly after that, his henchmen turned up in the village for full payment and all hell broke loose as Desmarais' men resorted to unreasonable violence. The prisoners maintain that they were only defending their property and their families."

D'Artagnan was reluctant to go into any more detail especially when he saw Athos' facial muscles tighten at the mention of the event that culminated in the deaths of Sylvie and Raoul.

"We struck lucky though when we asked if there was anything they could tell us about the Baron's activities, his comings and goings," Aramis added.

It was a definite ploy to lighten the mood and offer some optimistic comment. Athos raised an eyebrow, his curiosity aroused.

"One of them – I can't recall his name – said he was in the forest on Desmarais' land one day when he saw the Baron acting strangely. He was on horseback and alone and constantly looking about him. The man followed him at a safe distance and was led deeper into the forest than he had ever had reason to go before. He was worried about becoming totally lost when they finally reached a clearing in which there stood a small hunting lodge. The man had never known of its existence. Did you?" Aramis asked.

Athos shook his head. "It is the first I have heard of any such place and certainly have never had reason to come across it. When the men of the village and I went hunting, we were careful to do so on the unclaimed land because we did not want the accusation of poaching levelled against us. Of course, that was when the Baron learned of what we were doing and claimed he had bought that tract of land too. It would not be unusual for an estate to boast such a structure when it is large enough for you would not want to terminate a good hunt to travel back to the main property for a meal or at the end of a day."

"Yes, but why was he acting so strangely?" d'Artagnan was now the epitome of eagerness at the prospect.

"I don't know," Athos replied. "Was there anything else the man shared?"

"Only that a horse was already tethered there. Desmarais was meeting someone."

"And do you have any idea as to the identity of this person?" Athos wanted to know.

D'Artagnan merely shrugged. "Of course not, but –"

"So he could have been meeting someone there for all manner of reasons, many legitimate ones. Perhaps he was liaising with one of his men on estate business," Athos pointed out.

"Are you bein' deliberately difficult?" Porthos demanded but there was an amused gleam in his eyes even as he spoke.

"You must admit that his behaviour was strange and exaggerated," d'Artagnan persisted, cutting in before Athos had the chance to respond.

The former musketeer pursed his lips as he thought for a moment and resolved to be the voice of reason. "This information was gleaned from a prisoner who possibly did unwittingly exaggerate. At the very least, he was trying to be helpful and had found people who were prepared to listen to him. At worst, he was attempting to 'buy' some favour from you, not knowing that we are being kindly towards him anyway."

"You are being deliberately awkward," Aramis said and was immediately rewarded by an unexpected smile.

"Perhaps," Athos conceded, "but given our suspicions into Desmarais' activities anyway, the information could be invaluable and is worth considering further. I agree that, on that occasion, he did not appear to be there for the hunting."

"We'd best make haste then and see if we can find out what the man is up to," Porthos said, gathering up his horse's reins and preparing to mount. The others swiftly followed his example.

The road was wide enough for them to ride abreast and they travelled on in companionable silence for some time before d'Artagnan broke the peace.

"I hate to remind everyone and state the obvious here, but we have had no sighting of Milady so far. Could she have already reached Desmarais' chateau and carried out her task?"

Aramis cast an uneasy sideways glance towards Athos at the mention of her name, but there was no reaction. Instead, the man still joined to her in marriage kept his eyes fixed upon the road ahead.

It was Porthos who caught the First Minister's look and shrugged, loath to say anything but realising that some response was necessary. "Only if she's got there in the past three hours or so. Desmarais was alive an' kickin' when Brujon an' his party left there this mornin' because he saw the Baron an' spoke with 'im."

"There is that remote possibility, of course," Athos added, "but I very much doubt it. She would not have had the time for reconnaissance and to identify her opportunity. There is no way that she will act in haste and take unnecessary risks; she will ensure that she has a guaranteed means of escape. I believe that we will arrive to find Desmarais very much alive and suspect that she will be in the vicinity."

"She could be within the chateau," Aramis said carefully, trying to gauge the impact his words might have on Athos but his friend continued as if he had not heard. "We will need to encounter her to stop her from fulfilling her mission."

Nothing! Athos remained impassive.

It was d'Artagnan who finally dared to put into words the question they had been studiously avoiding.

"Will you be alright with that? Seeing her again, I mean?"

Suddenly, Athos pulled hard on the reins and his mount stopped abruptly. The others had ridden past him before they noted what he had done and they quickly reined in as well, watching him as he sat in the saddle, head bowed. They could hear his breathing as he fought to control the wave of emotion that swept over him at the prospect. He must have known that there was an inevitability about the encounter but he, like his friends, appeared to have been ignoring the probability for long as possible. As they neared Desmarais' estate, he did not have the luxury of disregarding the likelihood of their paths crossing.

They waited patiently, knowing him of old and realising that he was struggling to slide the mask of apparent indifference back into place.

Only this time, when he raised his head and his eyes met theirs, it was clear to all that he had tried - and failed.

"I don't know," he whispered, his torment there for his friends to see and his voice cracking with an innate agony. "I honestly don't know."