Treville stood behind his desk. Athos leaned with his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed, while Aramis took a seat on the divan near the unused fireplace. D'Artagnan and Porthos both took seats on the wooden chairs by the desk. Despite the light that entered through the window, the room was dark and Treville lit a lantern and placed it on his desk. The flame flickered a moment, but quickly steadied as the oil settled at the base of the bulbous glass. Mud had been abandoned by boots near the door and across the floor as the spring rains continued.
"Porthos," Treville said, "I want you and d'Artagnan to scout the northeast range… check to see if the duke is being forthcoming regarding his visit… how many men is he traveling with? What are his reinforcements?" He shook his head before being asked. "I want experienced eyes to evaluate his camp…" He sighed. "I question anything reported to me by anyone other than a musketeer."
"Why is he here?" Porthos asked and stood.
Treville rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. "He's claiming the Spanish have occupied the land surrounding his and he has offered his lands to the King — should Spain initiate war. The King has not agreed and will take time to consider his options."
"We would have heard about Spain's move to the Northeast — that would not have occurred under cover of night," Athos said, and kept his gaze on the floor. He caught sight of mud collecting between the floorboards. It would harden over time as the moisture evaporated, then, with a simple step it would crumble, turn to dust, and be swept away. He looked up and met Treville's eyes.
"King Louis made it clear he has concerns about the duke's alignments. Cardinal Richelieu agrees and… I believe it would be best if we work cautiously — his sudden appearance in France could be a sign of something more cunning."
"How would he know Athos?" d'Artagnan said, crossed his arms over his chest, and ran his thumb over his chin. He glanced between them, and finally took a deep breath and waited for an answer.
"Diversion," Porthos said, squared his shoulders, and expanded his lungs as he took a deep breath. "Athos' reputation with his blade perhaps?"
"You're sure you've never met him?" Treville asked, frowned, and looked toward Athos.
Athos clenched his jaw, looked up, and shook his head. "Not that I remember."
Treville nodded and looked toward Porthos and d'Artagnan. "Dress as commoners — and don't engage. Should your mission prove conclusive, return and we'll request a meeting with the king."
Porthos nodded and slapped d'Artagnan on the shoulder as they left the room.
Aramis sighed, leaned back, and rested his head against the wall. "If they indeed find something," he turned his head toward Treville, "what then?"
Treville sighed, rubbed his brow, and leaned forward. "I'm not ready to say."