When signaled by the duke, Salvador walked from the back of the room and down the center aisle between the dragoners. His height and bulk amplified with each passing step. King Louis stood, his subjects bowed, he stepped off the podium, and entered his private council chambers while the musketeers waited with the red guard and the dragoners. Treville and Cardinal Richelieu followed the king and his guests.
Queen Ann excused herself and departed with her ladies-in-waiting.
Once the ornate walnut door was closed, the room relaxed. Voices could be heard speaking in hushed tones. The dragoners stood silent, and unmoving as they awaited the duke's return.
Aramis looked toward Athos who looked toward the door. "Do you know him?"
Athos shook his head, brow furrowed, and met Aramis' eyes. "No," he said.
"He looked right at you." Aramis ran his fingers along his mustache and glanced from the door to Athos. "Maybe your family knew him?"
Athos shook his head and frowned. He looked toward Porthos who stepped forward, broke position, and leaned forward. Athos turned and looked at him.
"Notice their cloaks?" Porthos asked.
D'Artagnan placed his hand on his belt and shifted. "They look ready for war."
Aramis clenched his jaw and glanced toward the door. "Assumptions will not provide evidence."
Porthos licked his lips. "Their cloaks are lined." He motioned with his chin toward the dragoners. "Those weapons are not just for show."
Athos clenched his jaw. "This is not the place nor is it the time," he said, and looked again toward the door. He glanced forward and caught Lorange's eyes. Both men nodded and stood firm.
Porthos stepped back, nodded toward Aramis, who looked at the pauldrons on each of the dragoner's shoulders. Dark brown leather attached to their right shoulders with the embossed emblem of a roaring lion. Each one identical.
Aramis clenched his jaw and tightened his fist around the hilt of his sword. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
Athos rubbed his right temple with a gloved hand and looked toward the 30 soldiers who stood in perfectly still uniformity. They had seen and carried the scars of battle. Most were bearded, a few bore the weight of age with graying hair, and crows feet. All were strong, fit, and ready to serve their duke.
There was more happening than just a negotiation of allegiance.