This chapter was intended as an experiment with the characters and dynamics. It's not necessary to the progression of the story and the reader can skip it.
L'amante de Porthos
Chapter 35 : Master and Commander (or Musketeer and Captain)
Capitaine de Treville was on a mission. He marched with decided steps, an upright back and rolled-up fists. He was not in the best of humors but he was on a quest to find the truth and that, in and of itself, gave him a higher sense of purpose, if not a divine one, that allowed him to use his influence confidently to penetrate the residence of the Comte de Rochefort in the latter's absence.
He, and two of his recruits, followed the butler of the house as he led them to the room where the invalid had been housed. When they arrived at the door, the butler nervously informed the guard of who they were and of the necessity and urgency they required to enter the room. But the guard, dressed in the habitual red cassock of his regiment, was adamant about the orders he had been given.
"Out of my way this instant!" ordered the Captain of the Musketeers.
"I'm afraid I can't let you in, Monsieur," the red guard said defiantly, pulling out his sword.
"This is the King's business. If you do not step aside, my musketeer reserves the right to convince you," Treville warned in a last attempt.
"This is the demure of the Comte de Rochefort, lieutenant of the Cardinal de Richelieu, which is under the obvious jurisdiction of the Red Guard, Monsieur," retorted the red guard rudely.
Treville sighed and motioned to one of his musketeers, "Very well, then. Athos?"
The one named Athos drew his sword in retaliation, whereas his comrade just looked on with apparent anxiety on his face. The uniform he wore was unbecoming. It was too big for his size he almost looked as though he was swimming in it. Furthermore, he hadn't taken off the hood of his cloak even though they were indoors. Thankfully, the guard was too focused on the other one to notice anything. Seeing that things were about to explode in a violent altercation, the butler took off in a hurry.
As the blades clashed with each other, Athos succeeded in drawing the guard away from the door, allowing the other two to enter the room.
They had barely crossed the room towards the bed where the invalid lay, when Athos followed behind them, a satisfied smirk on his face.
"That was entertaining," he declared.
"I trust you didn't do away with him? It's bad enough we're transgressing on the 'red guard's jurisdiction'," sniggered Treville.
"I was careful. But we best hurry, these…"
He was cut off abruptly by an enraged Captain who bellowed across the room, where their companion – now having taken off his cloak – was leaning over the invalid.
"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, DE VILLEBOIS!". So much for discretion, Athos thought to himself, shaking his head. Treville stomped over to where Gerard was and violently tore him away from the man who was lying helplessly unconscious on the bed. He twisted his arm and through clenched teeth he scolded, "I took an ENORMOUS risk to disguise you as a cadet and bring you to this lion's den, where you would otherwise be a wanted man. I want to believe that you are innocent but for now, I only have the opinion of Athos as reassurance and nothing more. I will repeat what I told you before: any suspicious movement and I will personally pierce you with my own sword."
Athos rolled his eyes at his Captain's theatrics. Always dramatic.
Unable to extricate himself from the forceful grasp of Treville, Gerard winced with pain and replied, carefully enunciating his words, "Monsieur Lemay is sick. Don't you see? How do you suppose we conduct an interrogation if he can't even talk?"
Treville glared at the young man for a long while before releasing him unceremoniously, causing the latter to lose balance. Having anticipated the movement, Athos had quietly moved closer to the two men and Gerard fell into the arms of this imposing and elegant musketeer. He blushed and murmured a thank you before turning back to the Captain.
Gerard was right.
Monsieur Lemay was an old man and already it had been miraculous that he had even survived a duel with the Iron Mask. The fact that he was still able to wield a sword at his age was even beyond comprehension to some.
"The butler had mentioned that not a soul except Rochefort had been allowed to see him," Athos reminded the Captain. As if to verify this claim, the Captain gently moved Lemay to the side and glanced at his wound. He grimaced. Not a soul, not even a doctor… This was clearly a soldier's clumsy attempt at cleaning the wound. A Red Guard's clumsy attempt, that is.
The Captain abased his eyes, wrinkling his forehead. The Cardinal had sent for him immediately after the incident happened. He said Rochefort had interrogated the man and he was assured of two things: one, that it was indeed the Iron Mask and his band who had carried out this kidnapping and two, the young Comtesse has survived. But there was other information that Treville had probed for, which the Cardinal expertly avoided answering. Questions like, what was the Iron Mask doing there? How did he get there? How did he even survive Belle-Isle?! What was Rameau's involvement in all of this? Nay, what was the Comte de Dandurand's involvement?
When Athos showed up the previous day dragging with him this young man, along with a parchment written by the Comte de Dandurand, Treville was sure that there was something deeply complex and sinister in all of this. By some miraculous fortune, Rochefort still hadn't returned, which presented the Captain of the Musketeers with a golden opportunity to conduct his own private investigation away from the Cardinal's eyes and interference. At least, for just as long as he needed.
But he was now in dismay. Monsieur Lemay was clearly dying. His wound was infected and he was wheezing. His heart was weak. The question burned in Treville's mind: if Rochefort had taken the man into his care, why not nurse him to health? Unless they hadn't intended to nurse him to health at all… unless they intended for him to die… but why? Lemay must know something.
His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of this bothersome newcomer.
"… the problem is, I left my sack with all the medicinal equipment at the garrison."
"He's beyond any help, young man," Treville said.
"He's not, Monsieur. I have just the thing, I promise! Please, we must try," pleaded Gerard. Anything to find Marianne, he had wanted to add.
Treville sighed and looked imploringly at his musketeer. Athos smiled, inclined and simply said, "I'll return within half the hour."
…
A few unconscious Red Guards later, Athos promptly returned with the sack containing Gerard's medicinal tinctures and, as it would appear, a surgical toolkit.
With the reluctant help of the butler, who came up with a bucket of boiling water, Gerard set to work.
It was gruesome, to say the least, but he was completely unaffected by it. He worked quietly, diligently and methodically, frequently asking the musketeer or whoever was nearest to him for a certain tool, or to wipe away some blood or prepare one thing or another.
Throughout the procedure, Athos had to step out periodically to ensure that no other red guards were approaching the room. So far so good, but it was only a matter of time before someone alerted their whole regiment and they had to fight their way out of Rochefort's residence.
In the meantime, he couldn't help but observe the calm and commanding way in which Gerard conducted himself. He had hoped that the more time he spent with this stranger, he would uncover things about him that would make him dislike him. But it was the opposite. Athos couldn't help but respect him more for his compassion and for his skill. For the first time, he realized that his thoughts had been so preoccupied with this fascinating newcomer, he had barely thought of Aramis. He silently chuckled to himself: it all made sense now. How could anyone not be so taken with this saintly presence? Could he really blame her when he himself was even drawn to him? Good heavens!
….
"It surprises me that the Red Guard haven't surrounded the place yet," Treville addressed the butler, who was taking away the water, now a deep red.
"Before he left, the Comte de Rochefort had warned of the possibility of your visit, Monsieur."
Treville raised his eyebrows, "Then why did the guard of the chamber give us such trouble?"
The butler merely shrugged and disdainfully replied, "As is the way with common soldiers, Monsieur: for fun or out of boredom or simply to assert their mightiness like a peacock in heat. Such vulgarity, I swear it!" And with that, he left the room. The three exchanged complicit looks before bursting into laughter.
…..
The silence in the room was interrupted by feeble groans. Capitaine de Treville ceased his relentless pacing and walked towards the bed of the invalid. Athos, who had been nodding off in a corner, followed suit.
After some kerfuffle, coughing and endless shifting, Monsieur Lemay found himself a comfortable position that wasn't pressing on his wound, with the aid of his interim caregiver. He was greedily sipping a glass of water as he carefully scanned the faces of his visitors above the glass rim.
"Ah, Young Treville!" he smiled kindly towards the Captain of the Musketeers.
Young Treville? Athos raised his eyebrows as a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Aramis and Porthos would have had a field day with this. He couldn't help but smile, thinking of their reaction upon hearing this and of the endless mockery Porthos would have unleashed at the tavern later on. Ah, but they weren't speaking to each other, were they? He sighed and comforted himself with the progress he had made so far in finding Porthos' mistress. They were even closer now.
"And young Jerome de Villebois!" exclaimed M. Lemay, as his eyes rested on Gerard.
Athos observed a sad smile on the latter's face as he gently said, "No, Monsieur, I'm his son."
"Of course, you are," Lemay patted his hand and with a wink, he whispered, "I was merely testing you! Sharp as ever. Just like your father."
Gerard could only smile. He had forgotten how chatty M. Lemay could be. He was a pleasant sort of fellow, the kind that was agreeable in every party. He used to come visit when Gerard was young, bringing an assortment of sweets for him and Marianne. His visits had become sparse before they stopped altogether. Gerard assumed the old man must have gotten ill and passed away but was pleasantly surprised to see him at the convention.
"I presume you have come to question me," he addressed Treville in good humour.
Treville slightly inclined, "Essentially. We did have some questions about the night when you… that is, when the Iron Mask and his people infiltrated the Cardinal's residence." He produced the parchment they had found in Marianne's dress and handed it to him, adding, "We were also hoping you could explain what's in here."
Lemay nodded and gestured to Gerard for his spectacles. As he read, he shook his head and grimaced. He then folded the paper, put it aside and removed his spectacles. All traces of good humor had disappeared. Instead, there was a darkness that clouded his face.
"Any news of the girl?" he finally said, before addressing the contents of the letter.
Gerard looked down as the Captain replied, "I'm afraid not."
Lemay nodded slowly and then shook his head. He let out a sigh of exasperation and turned to his caregiver, "I had tried to come and see you, you know. To write to you. Your father was my student and he was an excellent one, too. But Paul-Francois… It was eight years ago now… he closed his doors to the world. No more visitors, no more letters… then he shut the child away and you along with her. And that was that. He became a ghost. He disappeared and erased everyone else with him. Everyone from the past and the present."
Treville was becoming impatient with the ramblings of the old man. "Monsieur Lemay, if you please, we just want to know what happened on the night of…"
Athos gently placed a hand on the Captain's arm, cutting him off and subtly shaking his head.
"Let him talk," he whispered to him, "I have a feeling this might be important."
Lemay looked out the window and said, "I have told the Comte de Rochefort everything about that night already."
Gerard's head fell forward. It was hopeless. There was no more information about Marianne. What was he hoping for anyway?
But Athos' instinct proved correct not long after.
"But what I haven't told Rochefort was the real truth. To know what happened on the night Paul-Francois was abducted is to open a dusty old book into the past. And it all began a very long time ago…"