IX - Front line

D'Artagnan was left completely abandoned in the backyard of the stables. He bent down for the handkerchief and silently agreed to Biscarat. It was now for him to choose what his future life as a guardsman would be like after this hearty welcome; and he had to make this decision now, which would determine everything else.

D'Artagnan decided to attend the morning roll call belated. He had to clean up himself and get a fresh uniform, remove all traces of this incident as well as possible. The stench would inhere to him for the rest of the day, too intense to pin it on a horseback ride alone. Jussac would certainly not be deceived by this, but d'Artagnan had to bear the wrath of his new superior alone. This was the best choice he could make; he alone should bear the blame for the delay and not lose a single word about the bath in the dung. Denounce the comrades? Taboo!

He wiped himself with Biscarat's handkerchief and got rid of his uniform. It was not difficult to find a bucket of water in the stables and to wash himself fairly thoroughly. He could not change trousers, shirt and doublet, he only wiped off the coarsest dirt. By the time d'Artagnan had visited the armourer again and, without having to explain, was given a second tunic, his clothes were still stained but dry.

It was no surprise to d'Artagnan that the armourer did not ask him any questions or give him strict warnings. He was not the first recruit to be baptised. He might have been the first to be put in a really unpleasant situation, but the thrashing wasn't up to the armourer; that was left to the officers.

The roll call was in full spate when d'Artagnan reached the courtyard. The men stood in line, disciplined and ready for action. They were completely gathered - except for a striking gap between Sorel and Cahusac in the back row. Jussac had planted himself in front of them and seemed to have missed the gap entirely; everyone knew that he had noticed it all too well. D'Artagnan sighed inaudibly and crept to his spot, while Jussac took the guardsmen's announcements and news if there was anything to report.

Sorel glanced at d'Artagnan from the side and the disappointment in his gaze could not be interpreted by the former musketeer. Cahusac stubbornly looked ahead and was probably the only one among the guardsmen in the immediate vicinity who did not react in any way to d'Artagnan's appearance. The agitation was subtle, but it was there and now forced Jussac to cut the issue of orders.

»Soldier!«

D'Artagnan recoiled when the lieutenant suddenly barked in his direction. He immediately regained his composure and stood at attention. »Yessir!«

»Step forward!« Jussac waited with terrible anger in his face until d'Artagnan had marched to him. The eyes of the entire troop clung to his back. D'Artagnan faced the rebuke calmly that inevitably had to follow. He avoided to stare directly into the lieutenant's eyes. One of their usual silent duels would only have gotten him deeper into hot water.

Jussac reached out a demanding hand. »Equipment!«

D'Artagnan presented his musket and Jussac took it from him, checked the barrel and generally the condition of the weapon for corrosion, whether it had been thoroughly cleaned. The inspection was short but rigorous and the lieutenant found nothing to complain about. He returned the musket, followed by the pistol, the gunpowder and the bullets. Everything was complete and in perfect shape, just like the epee and dagger. With full intention, Jussac seemed to ignore the other man's smell and dirty clothes as long as the uniform itself was clean enough. The weapons inspection was a diversionary tactic to avoid having to punish the entire troop for the obvious prank.

»Is the morning roll call disturbing your beauty sleep, soldier?« Jussac could roar quite impressively. Especially when he only kept distance as wide as a finger from the delinquent. »Should we reschedule it half an hour, so monsieur has plenty of time for his manicure?«

»No, sir.«

»No, he says! No? Yet I would be so delighted if you were on time for roll call! I like being delighted! In fact, I damn well like it! Do you want me to feel miserable? Shall I cry my heart out for you like a girl?«

D'Artagnan decided to memorize this small but effective speech in case he would ever find himself in the situation again to reprimand a recruit. Jussac was pretty good at it. »No, sir.«

»So do you need an additional invitation then? With a perfumed letter on your pillow? Delivered by me personally with a kind request? Oh Please, please honour us at morning roll call, d'Artagnan!« Jussac finally took a step back and left him some breathing room again. »Explain yourself!«

That was the moment when d'Artagnan had to prove his attitude. Bernajoux and Biscarat certainly listened attentively, as did the other guardsmen. Could he keep his mouth shut?

»I lost my way, monsieur le lieutenant.« That excuse was as believable as any. Perhaps d'Artagnan had just spent too much time knocking his equipment in shape or he had a chat with a pretty chambermaid. It didn't matter what he answered - as long as it had nothing to do with horse manure.

»Ah, then it will suffice to take you by the hand and to escort you personally to the courtyard. By God, can you find your way to your dressing table in the morning without a map?«

That was probably a reference to his black eye. Or to his special eau de toilette. D'Artagnan found the repeated doubts about his manhood annoying, but that was obviously the lieutenant's style. At least, after talking about love letters and to hold hands, he didn't also ask if d'Artagnan wanted to share his bed with him and therefore would do everything foolish to get Jussac's undivided attention.

D'Artagnan did not have to endure any further insults. Maybe Jussac had run out of ammunition or he had lost the desire to deal with the alleged slacker even further. »Double guard duty for you!« Jussac brusquely turned away and shouted »Dismissed!« to the rest of the guard. A salute was given in unison, and d'Artagnan did the same. He had gotten off pretty lightly with his punishment. If that didn't surprise him enough, it was Jussac's words, hissed between his teeth, with which he dismissed him. »You will fit in.«

The other guardsmen couldn't have heard this and d'Artagnan, for his part, looked at his superior in astonishment. Not only had Jussac almost mildly lambasted him off. The lieutenant also seemed to be concerned to admit the old antagonist into his troop more or less smoothly. It would have been all too easy for him to throw d'Artagnan to the wolves by ordering the entire regiment to do double duty and punishing them all for the misconduct of one man. Jussac had decided not to do so, and hereby had made a choice on his part.

D'Artagnan no longer pondered Jussac's motives and turned to his new duties. Fitting... Tush! That's what he had planned, yes, and not just for the sake of his mission or because Rochefort had advised him to do so. Up to now, however, it was the red guard itself who refused him.

As excited, perhaps mischievous, as the other men had followed the sermon earlier, they suddenly seemed to lose all interest in their newcomer. They dispersed and no one wanted to make eye contact voluntarily as d'Artagnan looked around. Hell, there must have been someone he could asked where he could find the watch list and his assigned post! But even Sorel, accompanied by Cahusac, was walking from the courtyard. Perhaps the young man had realised that he would be better advised to quit acting as nanny.

Suddenly d'Artagnan was alone again. The guardsmen could form a frightening unit if they wanted to. Apparently everyone knew not to get involved with the former musketeer lieutenant. D'Artagnan drew his lips to a bitter smile. He could not even blame his 'comrades'. A guardsman among musketeers would hardly have fared any differently. But he was not someone who gave up easily. Someone had to give the recruit a proper briefing, and since there was no ensign for d'Artagnan to turn to, there was only Jussac to do it. Poor Jussac.

Grimly determined, d'Artagnan marched back to the guardroom. He might not find the lieutenant there, but he could get hold of any other guard and ask him. They could not be so foolish as to ignore the unbeloved musketeer even to the point of completely misjudging a post and endangering the Cardinal's safety.

He bumped into Bernajoux of all people. The man leaned relaxed against the door frame of the guardroom as if it belonged to him. He gave up his comfortable position when he noticed d'Artagnan and instead watched him with open hostility. D'Artagnan suspected that he would not easily get past this gatekeeper. Well, then Bernajoux was to give him information. »I need to-«

»Get lost!«

»Not until you answered one or two questions.« Mirror image of Bernajoux, d'Artagnan crossed his arms and stretched forward his chin in a belligerent manner. The other one reacted by adopting a particularly calm posture and leaning against the door frame again. »I don't feel like it.«

»Where's Jussac?« D'Artagnan did not even receive a indifferent shrug of the shoulders in reply. Bernajoux stubbornly ignored him. He forgot that the gascon was much more stubborn. »The watch list?«

Silence.

»My post? Times? Locations?«

Bernajoux finally lost that duel. Visibly unnerved, he deigned to snarl at the former musketeer: »Deaf? Don't feel like answering your questions.«

D'Artagnan saved himself a triumphant smile. So far, he won only the the first round, he had not achieved anything yet. »I wouldn't have to ask if the little incident in the stables hadn't impeded me.«

Now Bernajoux had fallen into the trap. Apparently the other one didn't like the remark at all. With a threatening undertone he said, »We don't like gabbers here.«

D'Artagnan pointed at his tidy tunic. »I am obviously wearing a fresh uniform, the matter is cleared up for good. But if you won't let me through to Jussac or answer my questions yourself, I'll have no choice but to talk to Luchaire himself and ask him unnecessary questions. I don't want to bother the captain with this, especially since Jussac will get in trouble for it.«

Bernajoux stared at him in rage. Simultaneously, he seemed to start thinking behind his scarred forehead. D'Artagnan's words were not blackmail, but fact. If no one spoke to him, all that remained was to walk to the superior authority. Monsieur de Luchaire would not be pleased at all about this kind of disorder in the regiment and certainly hold his lieutenant responsible for it. D'Artagnan, in a similar situation, would also have received more than just a wry glance by Tréville. Bernajoux seemed to understand this and finally growled reluctantly, »Ask!«

»Where can I find the lieutenant? Or someone who can explain to me in more detail how things work at the Palais?«

»I'll take care of that,« Bernajoux replied. That was good enough for d'Artagnan. In fact, he rather dealt with Bernajoux and his ilk than with Jussac. In the end, the lieutenant might have changed the double shift to two days' arrest if d'Artagnan had once again confronted him with such a trivial request.

Bernajoux was an astonishingly good teacher, because in his lazy mouth manner he explained everything concisely and therefore very clearly. Within a few minutes d'Artagnan knew where the watch list was displayed - in the guard room, of course - and where he could see the corresponding post plan. He knew that his first watch would last four hours, followed by an hour's break for lunch and an interim report, and then he would take up his post for another four hours. If he did not have double guard duty, d'Artagnan would otherwise have been assigned to a patrol or called out for weapons training, unless there were other orders. His duty would end when the relief had arrived.

The former lieutenant of the musketeers was very familiar with all of this. Bernajoux seemed to be able to interpret d'Artagnan's half-wistful smile perfectly and he ended his explanation with a snort. »That's it.«

»Thank you.« D'Artagnan wanted to pass Bernajoux with a polite nod to finally have a look at this watch list. A heavy hand on his shoulder detained him.

»Stop!« Bernajoux was a bulwark, and apparently he stood between Jussac and any trouble that might come across him. No doubt the lieutenant was in the guardroom and didn't want to be disturbed.

D'Artagnan slowly lowered his eyes to the paw on his shoulder. He had not yet completely abandoned his status as an officer and he had already been pushed around far too often today to tolerate any further disrespect. Just as slowly Bernajoux removed his hand and muttered: »Don't go in there, I'll lead you to the post.«

»Good.« Satisfied that he had not completely lost his authority and drawn a line in the sand, d'Artagnan resigned and let himself be led the way. He may have confused and reprimanded Bernajoux for a moment, but soon he could no longer claim his old rank. That he was at the very end of the hierarchy became clear to him once more when they reached their destination: A completely insignificant, tiny side door leading out to the Rue de Valois, firmly locked, the wood almost turned to stone and speckled with moss. No one had entered or left here for ages, not even the slightest of servants. The door was so low that at most a child could pass through it walking upright.

»Aha.« was d'Artagnan's only comment. Bernajoux twisted the corners of his mouth to a disturbingly crooked smile. But he was not to blame for his face and answered an unasked question in a conspicuously friendly manner. »Beginner's post.«

»I see.« Without letting his thoughts be known, d'Artagnan took up his station with such dignity as if he had been entrusted with the guard over the Cardinal's bedchamber. And over the king's throne room as well. Alas, all of France!

For a moment Bernajoux seemed impressed, or at least amused. Immediately afterwards, however, he frowned, whether because of d'Artagnan or himself, it was impossible to tell. He grumbled: »On the stroke in four hours,« before he left.

D'Artagnan maintained his proud posture until Bernajoux was out of sight. Only then did he slumped down a bit and mumbled some curses coming deep from the heart.