A/N: Thank you Musketball1 and pallysAramisRios for reviewing! Musketball1: Hahaha! That image brought a smile to my day.
Chapter 4
Even though the King was secure, Aramis waited tensely for his brothers to come join them. He couldn't hear the sounds of fighting from above ground, so he had no idea whether they were still engaged in battle in the catacombs, and he couldn't leave the King, not even with two dragons, to go check.
Rhaego and Ayelet returned first, empty-handed. They both gave him regretful looks that their quarry had gotten away, and Aramis tried to hold back a frustrated sigh. He wasn't angry at them; Boudier just had an infuriating ability to slip through their grasp at every turn. Even when they'd finally managed to capture and arrest him, he'd somehow gotten out to resume his rampage of destruction. At least the King was safe, though; Boudier hadn't succeeded in that regard.
When Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan finally appeared coming around the corner of the mausoleum, Aramis breathed a sigh of relief. They seemed to have come out of the battle unscathed.
"Your Majesty!" Athos called, picking up the pace to reach them. "Are you all right?"
Louis nodded wearily. "Yes, thanks to my Musketeers once again."
Aramis reached down to give him a hand up. "How did you know to come?"
Athos's expression was grim. "There were assassination attempts at the palace, against both the Queen and Treville."
Aramis mentally reeled in shock. "Are they…?"
"The Queen is fine, but Treville was severely wounded."
"What about my son?" Louis exclaimed.
"He is safe, Your Majesty," Athos assured him. "We should return quickly." He gestured for the King to climb up on Savron's back.
Aramis's heart was in his throat as he mounted up on Rhaego and they all took flight back to the palace.
Once there, Athos snagged a palace guard and told him to have the City Guard dispatch men to Saint-Denis to clean up the mess there. On order of the King, he added, knowing what Lahaye would think of a command coming from a musketeer. When the King himself didn't protest the demand, the guard nodded and hurried off.
The five of them strode swiftly through the palace toward Treville's apartments where they found a heightened guard presence outside. Aramis's mind was racing with imagined horrors until they entered and he finally laid eyes on the Queen, seeing for himself that she was unharmed. She looked pale and worried sick, but that was to be expected.
"Your Majesty!" she said in relief, coming toward Louis. Her gaze flicked past her husband to Aramis, and he could have sworn there was a flicker of immense relief for him as well.
He gave a subtle bow of his head in response as she turned her attention back to the King. He, however, reached to take his son from her, fawning over the child in desperate relief as well. Aramis supposed he couldn't blame him, but he felt a pang in his heart for the spurned look that briefly crossed Anne's face.
He tore his gaze away from them and turned to Constance. "How's Treville?"
Her expression was pinched with distress. "I don't know. Doctor Delacroix says he's done all he can, but…it doesn't look good."
Aramis steeled his shoulders and strode into the First Minister's bedchamber, intent on seeing for himself. Not that the royal physician wasn't qualified, but it never hurt to have a second pair of eyes, and Aramis had his fair share of experience with battle wounds.
The sight of Treville lying on his side on the bed, pale as death, was like a gut punch. Aramis swallowed hard as he crossed the room and reached out to check their former captain's pulse and temperature. Fast and chilled. Shock. He turned his attention to the bandages wrapped around Treville's chest.
"Excuse me," an indignant voice sounded from behind him. "Just what do you think you are doing?"
"Forgive me," Aramis said, canting his head apologetically at Delacroix. "I merely wanted to see for myself. I have some experience in battlefield medicine."
"Experience does not make you a trained physician."
"Let him," Athos spoke coolly from the doorway.
Delacroix sputtered in affront, but Porthos shot him a menacing glower.
Aramis ignored them and started to unwrap the bandage. He grimaced when it stuck to the singed flesh of a cauterized wound. When he found two more spots on Treville's back and a fourth on his front, Aramis was ready to curse out the royal physician.
"You didn't put anything on these?"
Delacroix crossed his arms. "If you have as much experience as you claim, then you'll know that such severe wounds carry great risk of infection. There is little to be done at this point."
Aramis scowled. "Bring me some honey, as much as you can get your hands on."
"I'll do it," he heard Constance say.
"It would be a waste," Delacroix pointed out.
"Are you saying you're giving up on your patient?" d'Artagnan questioned sharply.
"I'm being realistic."
"Doctor," the King's voice interrupted.
The musketeers in the doorway quickly parted to admit him, the Dauphin still in his arms. Louis looked more composed now as he fixed the physician with a stern mien.
"You will do everything to see my First Minister survives," Louis said austerely.
Delacroix faltered, then bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Louis turned to the musketeers. "Athos, find who was responsible for these heinous attacks."
Athos bowed in turn, and then the King left, the Queen trailing behind him.
Aramis set to cleaning Treville's wounds as gently and thoroughly as possible. The First Minister didn't stir once during the ministrations, which worried him. The trauma of his wounds, plus the blood loss and subsequent cauterization, however necessary, might have been too much for his body to handle. Still, Aramis was going to do everything within his power.
Constance returned with a large jar of honey from the palace kitchens and got to work helping Aramis lather it over the cauterized flesh.
"We'll leave it all uncovered for now," he said. "Easier to watch for infection without having to remove bandages that have gotten stuck to the wounds."
Constance nodded.
Delacroix left at one point, leaving just the musketeers and their former captain alone in the bedchamber.
"It was Boudier at the mausoleum," Aramis informed the others.
Several pairs of brows shot up in dismay at that.
"First slanderin' the Queen and now tryin' to kill her?" Porthos exclaimed. "And the King? For what?"
"Boudier is working for someone else now," Aramis reminded him. He hesitated, casting his gaze around the room and the outer door where guards were still stationed outside. He cocked his head at d'Artagnan, who frowned but nevertheless went to shut the door. "There's more," Aramis said in a low voice. "The King is dying."
They all gaped at him in shock.
"What?" d'Artagnan blurted.
"He admitted as much," Aramis said, grimacing at the betrayal of confidence, but this was earth-shattering news and they needed to know, needed to prepare for the coming months.
"He said he was sick," Athos put in carefully. "When that medicine shipment was stolen."
"Do you think he knew how serious it was then?" Porthos asked incredulously.
Athos shrugged.
"I wonder if Treville knows," d'Artagnan murmured.
They all looked to the First Minister, but that was a question he wouldn't be in any shape to answer for a while.
"I understand why it would need to be kept secret," Constance said. "It would cause chaos, especially now with the war and unrest."
Athos pursed his mouth thoughtfully. "The attempted assassinations of the three highest ranking members of the French government might be proof someone already does know. Boudier did steal the medicine supply; he might know or at least suspect the King's condition, information he could have passed on to his new benefactor."
"But why kill the King if he's already dying?" d'Artagnan asked.
"They don't feel like waiting?" Porthos said. "How long does he have?"
Aramis shrugged. "Months, maybe."
"Who would be in charge if the assassins had succeeded today?" d'Artagnan said.
They all exchanged uncertain looks. It wasn't a question they'd ever had to consider in the line of succession.
"The governor?" Porthos suggested.
"That's brazen, even for him," Aramis remarked.
"Yet he would have the power to release Boudier from prison. And he's probably been behind the recent campaign to turn public opinion against the Queen."
"We'll need to find proof before we make any allegations," Athos warned.
"Think he'll try again?" Porthos asked.
"We'll increase everyone's protection," Athos said. "We won't let anyone get past our guard like that again."
"I can stay with the Queen," Constance offered.
Athos nodded. "Aramis, since you're the best equipped to care for Treville, you'll remain here for the time being."
Aramis nodded in agreement.
"Porthos or d'Artagnan will guard the King. I'll coordinate with the captain of the Palace Guard and incorporate the Musketeer cadets into the extra protection around the perimeter."
"What about Boudier and the governor?" d'Artagnan asked.
"We'll start looking into them as well."
Aramis let out a heavy breath. They definitely had their work cut out for them.
.o.0.o.
Louis sat slumped back against the cushioned sofa as he endured an examination from Doctor Delacroix. It was protocol that he be checked out by the royal physician after such an ordeal, and Louis knew the doctor wanted to evaluate his condition in regards to his illness, but none of that really mattered in the grand scheme of things. There was nothing Delacroix could offer him, save a dose of opium to dull his wits and take away the pain—both physical and emotional—of his impending death.
"How is Treville?" he asked numbly.
Delacroix scrunched his face up sourly. "That musketeer is tending him."
Louis hummed. Yes, Aramis had many skills—a soldier, a priest, a medic. He had saved Louis's life today; perhaps he would be able to save Treville's as well. Louis dearly hoped so. He couldn't imagine running the country without his First Minister…couldn't imagine what would become of France without Treville to keep things going when the King had passed. Of all the members of his Council, there was no one Louis trusted more.
Doctor Delacroix finished his examination and offered a vial of the opium. Louis accepted it, but set it aside on the table after the physician had left. He then stood and went into the nearby nursery where Anne was standing over their son's crib. She didn't say anything as Louis reached down to pick up the boy again, holding him in his arms dearly. Just the memory of the thought of never seeing him again made his heart clench with distraught emotion. If the assassins had succeeded this day, if he, Anne, and Treville had all been killed, who would be left to care for his son?
The musketeers, of course. Louis knew they would protect the Dauphin, but it wasn't enough. His son was the future King, and as such, Louis needed to make arrangements. Anne was the natural choice for regent, though the people's opinion of her had been so tainted recently that he didn't know if that decision was wise anymore.
He would entrust Treville with everything, but now he didn't even know whether his First Minister was going to survive his wounds. And if he did, would he be in any shape to run the country and guide little Louis into his place as King?
"Are you all right?" Anne spoke up softly.
"Fine," he said stiffly.
She fell silent at that. He knew she was upset at his coldness, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her what was going on with him. He'd had a moment of weakness in the mausoleum with Aramis—something he hoped he wouldn't live to regret. But he steeled himself now. He was King, and he didn't want to see pity in anyone else's eyes, least of all his own wife.
He passed their son into her arms, then turned his back on them and left. Part of his heart was rent asunder to do so, but he also couldn't bear the pain of staying so close, knowing it would all be ripped away too soon.
All too soon.
NEXT TIME
An attack on the palace and attempted kidnapping of the Dauphin throws everything into chaos, with devastating consequences.