Big chapter today as I wanted to get to a key point and thought you might want to know how Delacroix was being his usual annoying self and then it dawned on me that poor Treville was still hopelessly in the dark about some things - Aramis had told him what he knew but Athos was still keeping things close to his chest. Shan't tell you any more here though; you'll have to read on. Thank you to the regulars who continue to give me feedback and interesting speculations; I really enjoy hearing from you. Jubilation at 1.00 am today when I wrote through the 100,000 word barrier - never written anything so long! Thank you for sticking with me.

CHAPTER 44

At the same time as Aramis and Treville were talking, Delacroix was licking his fingers and pushing away his empty plate having eaten his fill. He laughed aloud at something Garris said and indicated his empty cup, demanding a refill. Roland sat opposite him, scowling disgustedly at the man's behaviour and watching as Robert Fallon stepped forward with a jug and poured the weakened ale into the cup, his face a stoic mask at the unwelcome intrusion into the village of Clairmont by the combined Musketeer and Red Guard force.

Although it went against everything he felt was right, he too had been one to obey Athos' orders and had, in all supposed innocence, told Delacroix exactly what he wanted to know, without the man knowing that it was at Athos' behest. Delacroix had ridden into the village demanding to see where his musketeer brothers were buried and had gone through the shallow ritual of paying his respects, very few of those gathered there being aware that he was one of those responsible for putting the men in the ground in the first place.

He had asked a plethora of questions surrounding the renegades under the leadership of an ex-musketeer named Athos whom they were seeking in relation to the senseless murder of an old man and traitorous behaviour regarding the regiment. Robert gritted his teeth and feigned surprise and horror that the man he had met the previous day could be capable of such heinous activities.

"You would not be expected to understand the depths to which someone of his calibre can stoop," Delacroix said condescendingly. "But you are not to worry; we will soon have the renegades under control and their leader with receive his appropriate punishment."

"And what would that be?" Robert asked. Delacroix misconstrued the worry in his voice as a desire for further reassurance.

"He will be executed, of course. Now, when he and his band left here, in which direction were they heading?"

Fallon took a deep breath and divulged the information as Athos instructed. "They went north. Their leader was asking a lot of questions about ruined buildings, chateaux, maison fortes and the like."

Delacroix visibly froze at the news. How had Athos known where to look? Richelieu's words came back to mind and served as a chilling reminder that Delacroix should not underestimate Athos. He had found out somehow the type of place where Treville was being held. He pretended to be indifferent. "And what did you tell him?

"The village elders told him of the ruined maison forte a few miles north of here and that was where he was going to head first. He said he was looking for someone – I don't know whom – but he had this idea that the man was being held against his will in just such a place," Robert explained.

"A ridiculous notion," Delacroix said dismissively. "It was a ruse to get some information from you, make you sympathetic to his cause. At least we are here now to save you from the threat presented by him and his men should they remain in the area; I have no doubt he is looking for some place where he and his men can hide. You have done well, man; your assistance to me will not be forgotten."

Robert bowed politely and retreated, his anger boiling inside of him.

Having been to the gravesides, the visitors had announced their plans to remain the night in the village, taking over the large room where Athos and his men had been welcomed the previous day. These men, though, were totally unwelcome and they had forced themselves upon the hospitality of the villagers, demanding food and eating greedily from their meagre resources. They had spent one night camping in the open air already, not having left Paris until late the previous afternoon once the audience with the King and Delacroix' subsequent exchange with Richelieu had taken place. The Captain of the Musketeers had sought to mobilise his men as soon as possible but, never having had such sole responsibility before, his preparations were haphazard and it took the combined assistance of Roland and Bertram to advise him and ready the group for the road. He had not exactly pushed the men since, somewhat reluctant as he was about the mission, and the troop had not made the speedy progress of Athos and his men.

Delacroix was still smarting from the chastising he had received at the hands of his King and the Cardinal and was horrified that Richelieu had ordered his departure from Paris in pursuit of Athos and his men. As much as he wanted Athos dead, he did not relish the inevitable confrontation and was fully cognisant of the fact that it would not be an easy encounter. Those he had left at the maison forte had neither the man- nor firepower to withstand an attack by a group the size of the one that had ridden out through the Paris gates so it was a foregone conclusion that the ex-Musketeers had found and released Treville. He could imagine how that would have encouraged them and was sickened at the thought of Athos' arrogance of having been proved right. He should have killed Treville when he had the chance in the initial attack and be done with it. The Captain and the wretched Inseparables all believed him to be a coward but he had proved otherwise when they had intercepted the musketeer troop on the Paris road. He would NOT be ridiculed again.

As he thought about the forthcoming clash with the renegades, he began formulating his own strategy. Now there was an amusing idea; Richelieu believed him incapable of original thought. However, it was good that he had Roland and his soldiers along. They could be sent in first to risk the pistol and musket fire; he would be in a supporting and supervisory role. With any luck, Athos – being the hero that he thought he was – would fall in the first assault as he would undoubtedly lead from the front. If, however, he survived, Delacroix would challenge him but Bertram, Faron and Silvey would have their part to play and he knew exactly what he wanted them to do should the need arise.

...

Aramis thought carefully about Treville's warning regarding Delacroix and realised there was validity in what the older man feared. Eventually he spoke. "Well Delacroix certainly hasn't played by any honourable rules that we know of. That's what we've been saying all along."

Athos turned from chatting with the last group of soldiers and glanced in their direction. It was as if he instinctively knew that he was the object of their scrutiny; he gave a brief nod and grinned. It never ceased to amaze Treville the difference it wrought in him when he deigned to smile. Ever watchful and sombre, he could cut an intimidating figure and there were those even amongst the ranks of the musketeers who deemed him cold and aloof but, unknown to them, that wariness and reserve were the direct result of a turbulent past and he struggled with an inherent shyness. That smile, often just an amused twitch at the corners of his mouth, occasionally erupted into an unguardedly broad grin and his handsome features were further transformed, his face lighting up and green eyes crinkling with unabashed humour.

"He's smiled more today than I've known him do in a long time, save for the morning of the Austrian dignitary's visit," Aramis said, as if he knew what the older man was thinking. Treville had been ignorant of the whole visit but it had formed an important part of Aramis' account to him, coming as it did between the incident with the mushrooms and Athos losing his command.

"It amazes me how two of the King's musketeers can be so different," Treville said, comparing Delacroix and Athos in his mind.

"They are alike in one respect," Aramis pointed out.

"And what's that?"

"Their obsessive nature. Delacroix is obsessed by his hatred and jealousy of Athos and Athos …"

"Athos?"

"He was obsessive from the start in his belief that you were still alive." Aramis looked sideways towards Treville and spoke again, his words tinged with a note of sadness. "I'm sorry."

"Why should you apologise?" the older man asked.

"Because Porthos, d'Artagnan and I didn't have that same level of belief. We feared the worst although we didn't want to."

Treville immediately understood the depth of what was troubling the marksman and sought to appease him. "You have no reason to feel bad. As much as it would have pained me, had one of you been missing for a similar length of time, I would have called it before now. You would have been listed as missing, presumed dead."

"It wouldn't be an easy decision to make, would it?"

"Far from it. Fortunately, it isn't that frequent an occurrence but when it does happen, it doesn't get any easier." He paused as Aramis yawned. "Perhaps we ought to think about settling for the night; we might have a very taxing day ahead of us."

"That's something of an understatement! Are you going to rest in the building?"

Treville looked first behind him at the darkened doorway of the maison forte and then out at the open space around him. "Now that's an easy decision. The night is warm and I have spent far too long locked up in the building; I think I'd far prefer to sleep out here under the stars."

Aramis scrambled to his feet. "I'll see about finding us some blankets then," and he disappeared into the building.

Before darkness fell completely, the last change of watch at the copse took place and when those relieved rode in through the gatehouse arch and stabled their mounts in the outbuilding, it served as an unspoken suggestion that all the men begin to settle for the night. The opportunity to sleep in the surviving chambers to the left of the round tower was ignored, the men preferring as one to stretch out under the full moon, some with a blanket, others making use of their musketeer cloaks but remaining in their small groups and close to the fires that were kept burning low. As an additional, precautionary measure, Athos posted a further two-hourly watch of four men; one near the gatehouse entrance, another at each of the two remaining wall breaches and the last sitting in the midst of the sleeping, vulnerable men, feeding the fires with wood that had been gathered earlier and watching over his colleagues.

Treville lay on his back, wide awake and staring up at the sky, listening to the familiar sounds of the night. A creature gave a cry in the countryside beyond the walls whilst all around him, men shuffled, subconsciously seeking a more comfortable spot on the hard ground. An occasional cough was heard but the main accompaniment was the varied and, to him, reassuring range of male snoring; from the infrequent snuffles and snorts through to the full-throated, cacophonous rumble and he could not help but smile to himself as he recognised Porthos' tones amongst them. A nocturnal bird was fleetingly silhouetted against the moon and he guessed it was an owl, hunting for small prey.

His mind was restlessly going over all that he had gleaned from Athos and Aramis and he was fast reaching the conclusion that there remained gaps in his understanding and that he had many unanswered questions. So much had happened in the month since Delacroix led a group that had killed six of his men and seized him. He would never forget that moment at the height of the attack when the mask slipped and the assailant facing him was one of his own; nor would he ever be able to forget the enormity of the sense of betrayal, that a man he had trusted could stoop so low.

That same man had taken advantage of his absence and dared to wreak havoc in his regiment – he could not think of the musketeers in any other way than 'his'. Delacroix had systematically alienated and mistreated the men, not least the young man he had initially left in charge as his replacement and he found it incomprehensible that such behaviour stemmed from a deep-rooted jealousy but, he had to face it, that was what had transpired and he was uneasy about the outcome. He had no misgivings about Athos' ability to defeat Delacroix, but the latter had played false throughout his career in the musketeer regiment and Treville felt he had no choice but to apportion a large amount of the blame to his own shoulders; he was the commanding officer and it had been his responsibility to identify and curb Delacroix' history of bullying tactics towards Athos. Had he done so, things might have taken a considerably different turn, although he had to admit that he had always been somewhat surprised when Athos was so taciturn about his treatment at the hands of Delacroix.

Sudden movement in his peripheral vision to the right caught his attention and he saw a figure rise and walk off in the moonlight towards one of the two remaining wall breaches; he knew immediately who it was. Careful of the sleeping men around him, he got to his feet and picked his way amongst the still forms and followed.

He found Athos sitting on a large section of stonework that had collapsed from the main wall and he sat beside him. Together they looked out across the grassed site with the low fires and the dark forms of recumbent men. The gatehouse was to their left and main building to their right whilst the outbuilding housing the horses lay directly ahead and, in the still of the night, the snort of a restless animal reached their ears.

"Couldn't you sleep?" Treville asked softly, not wanting his voice to carry and disturb the resting soldiers. He refrained from looking towards the younger man as he spoke.

"No; I thought I'd wait and make sure the change of watch happened on time," came the prompt answer. It was a poor excuse and they both knew it; there was nearly another hour before the replacements were expected to stir and take up their posts. "What about you?"

"I'm told it's something to do with advancing years; you don't tend to need as much sleep as when you are younger," Treville replied. Another lie and they both knew that as well. Treville waited, wondering how long it would be before Athos opened up – if at all. He had never known a man so reticent regarding his thoughts and feelings or who had succeeded in keeping the truth about his past suppressed to such an extent but, in the years that the young man had been in the regiment, Treville had at least learned how to deal with him; when to seek his counsel, when and how to discipline; and when to listen and advise. All were necessary at some point but it was the listen and advise category that he understood was needed now.

It was several minutes before Athos felt comfortable enough to break the silence. "Is it always like this?"

Treville pretended not to grasp Athos' meaning although he understood only too well. How many times had he been in a similar situation? "Is what like what?"

"The thoughts, the self doubts and ..." he paused before confessing, "the fears the night before a battle."

"You've experienced enough eves of battle in your time."

"Not like this. Before I was always following orders – yours. Now I'm expecting men to follow mine."

"You've also given plenty of orders in the field," Treville reminded him.

"That's different. It's usually smaller groups or just Porthos, Aramis, d'Artagnan and me. If I'm going to make a reckless decision, we can discuss it if need be but we're generally reckless together anyway. It's what I like to call a considered recklessness." Trevile could almost hear the winsome smile in his voice. "Supposing I've made the wrong decisions here? There are so many lives at stake."

"You've talked through your decisions with me. I would have done just as you have done. I would not have let you make an error."

"I know but ..."

"But what? Tell me what you're thinking, Athos."

"I've already made a mistake." He saw that Treville was about to contradict him and rushed on. "We leave the cover of that building and we're completely exposed; there's nothing except for an open space. We should have used more of that wall debris to construct at least two barriers in front of the steps."

"I wouldn't call that a mistake," Treville persisted. "It can be remedied at first light. With everyone helping, it should not take us too long. "

"I'm having to assume so many things so that there's a plan, a back-up plan and another plan to replace that one if all else fails. Perhaps I've missed something crucial." Athos' voice was almost a groan.

"I doubt that very much," Treville tried to reassure him, "but why don't you sound me out again? Fill in the gaps for me about what has brought you to this point, other than searching for me."

"Richelieu is behind it all."

"I feared as much from the outset when Louis sent me on the wild goose chase to Normandy."

"The Duke was not a threat?" Athos began to realise that there was much that he and Treville had not discussed. So much had happened as the day progressed that there had been little opportunity to bring each other up to date and he found himself relaxing into a familiar situation of reporting and exchanging information.

"Not at all; he was mightily offended that it was even suggested."

"Need I ask who did the suggesting?" The cynical tone in Athos' voice was unmistakable.

"Richelieu claimed that it was from one of his informants. Well, the informant conveniently got it completely wrong."

"Or there was no informant at all and it was an utter fabrication on the part of the Cardinal to serve his own ends," Athos cut in.

"Exactly, and then there was the strange diversion to the monastery. Once we had got there safely, it made it obvious that any possible attack would be imminent on the road between there and Paris." Treville paused and when he resumed, there was a strange catch in his voice. "They fought well, you know. You had your reservations about their accompanying me and rightly so but they acquitted themselves at the end as true musketeers. None of them deserved to die like that."

"No, but we have visited where they are buried and paid our respects on the way here."

"You know where they are?" Treville was incredulous but his relief was tangible as Athos went on to explain about their initial makeshift grave, the discovery of their remains and subsequent reburial by the inhabitants of Clairmont.

"It is reassuring to know that there are some good people on this earth," Treville rued.

"But I worry for them," Athos continued. "Delacroix knows what they have done. One of the villagers, a Robert Fallon, came to the garrison to inform us. I was the one to pass on that information; I just hope that he will not take it out on the villagers as he heads this way. He's a bigger fool than I thought if he does punish them for their intervention. I told Fallon that if the opportunity arose, he was to tell Delacroix where we were heading. There's my first assumption, that he'll stop at Clairmont and ask the right questions."

"How did you find this place so quickly?" Trevile wondered.

"I overheard Delacroix give a vague description of here in a conversation with Bertram and so I asked Fallon and the village elders about it; they knew of it and its whereabouts. If Delacroix has spoken with Fallon, he will surmise that we are here and attack."

"Where were you to overhear such incriminating evidence?" Treville was curious.

In an instant, it dawned on Athos that there were several things about which Treville still knew nothing.

"I was concealed in the secret room off your bedchamber," he said.

"You found out where the keys fitted?" Treville was relieved.

"Yes and I found this," he reached inside his doublet and retrieved the book which he had taken back from Aramis during the afternoon. "You ought to have this now," and he handed it over.

Treville accepted it but did not open it. "Have you read it?"

"I looked at some of it to ascertain what it was. It seems to me that there is enough in there that you could have used to bring down Richelieu several times over."

"Perhaps I could have done before now but I suppose my hesitancy stemmed from a nervousness that he would be able to explain away his actions somehow."

"I cannot actually imagine you being nervous about a confrontation with Richelieu," Athos said, his eyes widening a little at the prospect.

Treville had the temerity to appear embarrassed, "Let me put it this way; there are some battles I like to pick and I want to be as sure as possible about the outcome before I make a move, especially where the Cardinal is concerned." Athos gave a low chuckle. "So you must have seen Pière and had his help. Tell me, how is the old man?"

Athos froze, struggling to find the words at first. "I'm sorry. Pière is dead. He is the person I am supposed to have murdered but it was Delacroix." He went on to explain, as gently as he could, what had transpired in Treville's chamber. From the older man's body language and sudden silence, Athos could tell that he was trying to assimilate the news and wrestle with a burgeoning grief. Pière had been a faithful servant for many years.

When a suitable period of time had elapsed, Athos continued repeating the conversation he had overheard. "It appears the Cardinal wanted you kept alive until he had found the evidence you had amassed against him. Delacroix thought that when that was destroyed, Richelieu would affect some rescue plan and be the hero of the hour, thus diverting suspicion of his involvement. However, Delacroix was growing impatient and just wanted you and me out of the way. If he could manage to dispose of Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan as well, so much the better."

Treville still did not speak and, tentatively, Athos reached out and laid a hand on the man's shoulder. "I am truly sorry about Pière," he repeated.

Treville merely nodded. "Let's just make sure Delacroix gets what he deserves." His voice was low and the suppressed anger unmistakable.

"That is what I intend," Athos vowed. He suddenly stood up. "Maybe it's time we tried to get some sleep now."

"Aren't you worried that the next watch won't wake up and take up their duty?" Treville reminded him of the excuse he had given at the outset of their nocturnal discussion.

"No, I'll trust them to do it," Athos said. "Besides, we have to be up at dawn to build two small barricades."

The two of them headed back to the resting figures and settled down onto their blankets, sleep quickly claiming them at last.

The men were stirring at first light and immediately set about occupying themselves to distract them from the lack of food. Those who had taken on the responsibility for water the previous day set out to replenish their supply and Athos announced that it would be rationed from the start. The horses were let out to graze for an hour but then Athos wanted them secure again, reluctant to have a last minute rush to enclose them. He gave further orders to construct two barriers of stone in front of the steps to rectify the omission he had been worrying about overnight and, as the work commenced, he took time to check briefly on the prisoners, ascertaining from Aramis how the wounded were progressing. He soon returned and joined one of the human chains that shifted the wall rubble to a new position, repeating the battle strategies he had put before the men the day before.

He had just decided that the length and height of the two barricades were sufficient to provide cover for two men behind each when the sound of horses' hooves at full gallop thundered over the causeway and through the archway, the two animals skidding to a halt as their breathless riders slid from the saddles and ran towards Athos, calling his name. He moved quickly across the ground to meet them, Treville closely at his heels.

"Report," he ordered succinctly.

"Men riding hard and fast about two miles away when we first saw them across open land," one of the men answered.

"How many?" Athos demanded.

"We didn't stay long enough for an exact count as they were moving so quickly but there are at least thirty," the other man stated.

Athos looked at Treville and took a deep breath before turning on his heel. "It's time!" he yelled, as the men stopped what they were doing to pay attention. "They're coming. To your positions!"

There were a few moments of organised chaos as the men retrieved weapons from where they had laid them on the ground whilst they worked and set off running to their designated places whilst shouting brief, well meaning messages to each other.

Athos stopped by Aramis as he picked up the two muskets; his partner, who was going to reload for him, was already sprinting up the steps towards the round tower with the other weapons.

"Make each shot count," Athos said simply.

Aramis nodded and reached out to clasp Athos' hand in his and shook it firmly. "Just make sure you look after yourself."

"I will," Athos replied and watched as Porthos and d'Artagnan strode across the grass towards him.

Porthos threw an arm round his shoulders. "You take care now, you hear? Don't do anything stupid," and he was gone, racing up the stairs to take up position inside the doorway to the right.

Athos was temporarily distracted by the sound of breaking glass as men punched out the windows to the left of the round tower. When he looked back, d'Artagnan hovered at his side and awkwardly embraced him, holding him tight as he whispered in Athos' ear.

"I know you want Delacroix so you get him but stay focused. Remember what you always tell me; don't let your heart rule your head. The Lord knows you've got every reason to have your heart dictating what you do, given how he's treated you, but be careful." He pulled away, his eyes glistening.

Athos held him by the shoulders. "I will but I need you to take care also."

D'Artagnan nodded his promise and left to assume his position at one of the ground floor windows to the left of the steps.

Athos took a deep breath and exhaled loudly as Treville took a step closer and extended his hand which the younger man took. "You've done all the thinking and you've primed the men well. You could have done no more in terms of preparation. Believe in yourself. Just one more thing," and he suddenly pulled Athos towards him, surprising him as he held him close. "Make sure you stay alive, son."