"He needs rest," Aramis said. He looked toward Treville, who stood with his arms crossed and a grin that had not faded since leaving the presence of the king. "Warm foods and plenty of rest, captain, I cannot stress it enough." He tightened the cinch and lowered the stirrup. The black swatted his tail and shook his head, causing his reins to fall to the ground. He lowered his head and grazed.

"The king himself will make sure your instructions are followed," Treville said and watched d'Artagnan mount.

Aramis nodded and glanced from Treville to the chateau. "I can't believe he survived, and truth be told," he shook his head and pulled the reins through his hands, "with relatively minor injuries."

Treville stepped forward, clasped Aramis' upper arm, and nodded. "Nor can anyone else." He stepped back as Aramis mounted. "We'll see you in about 5 or 6 days. Travel safe."

Aramis nodded, tapped his heels against his horse's sides, and rode beside d'Artagnan as they departed. He looked again at the chateau and then at the road ahead. The weather was perfect. The sun shined, the sky was clear, and the air was quiet. Birds chirped, flew in flocks across the road, and landed in the branches of the trees along their path. A rabbit hopped along the side of the path and then scampered into the bush.

They followed the same path Athos had taken along the river. The water still roared with activity as winter's runoff continued. The sun's rays reflected off the water and caused Aramis to squint because of the brightness. The horses relaxed as they journeyed, both with their heads lowered, ears moving from forward to back as their riders' signaled with their heels and subtle movements of their hands for shifts in direction. The tree where they had found Emone was gone, and the ground torn and disrupted, signs that the force of the water was stronger than the strength and weight of the tree. Broken branches lay scattered on sand dunes.

They rode until nightfall, when they made camp. Aramis made a fire and warmed their food on a skillet, while d'Artagnan settled the horses. Thankful for the calm weather, they wrapped themselves in their cloaks and bedding as the night grew dark and the air cold.

Unsure of the ride ahead, they saddled their horses at first light, and started their journey. Aramis stopped at the spot where he had found Athos' sword, and where they had ended their journey in their search of him. The river had risen so much that most of the boulders were covered with water, and the sandbar nearly gone. He looked across the river and watched as a tree fell and hit the water with a splash. Branches broke, splintered, and were swept downstream. The tree top disappeared below the surface and the root base shifted as water continued to dam behind it. Mother Nature was a force to which one surrendered to or died fighting.

"Are you alright?" d'Artagnan asked and turned in his seat toward Aramis, who continued to watch the tree succumb to the brutality and force of the water.

Aramis turned to look at him and nodded. "Yes," he said, kicked his horse's sides and continued.

They traveled two leagues before they saw smoke escaping a chimney in the distance. Aramis looked toward d'Artagnan and smiled as they followed the river. They rode up an incline, spotted a downed tree in the water near the sandy bank. A barn came into view, chickens free ranged in the yard, and a small home, partially hidden with overgrown vines, was nestled within the trees.

A young man walked across the yard carrying a bucket. He paused, looked up and called for someone when he spotted them. He rolled his sleeves down, pulled up his collar, and buttoned his doublet as he walked toward them.

Aramis and d'Artagnan dismounted and walked toward the young man.

"Messieurs," Osgar said. He tipped his head and then shook their hands. "Athos made it back?" he said hopefully, and smiled when they nodded. He glanced toward the house. "My grandmother will be pleased."

"May we speak with her?" Aramis said. He looked past Osgar's shoulder as the front door opened and a woman stepped onto the porch. Two young boys ran from the house toward them.

The chickens squawked, scampered, and feathers flew in their poor attempts to escape the boys' charge. Jermaine swung his arms and leapt to a stop next to Osgar, and Evan pulled himself to a quiet stop and looked at both men.

"Are you musketeers? Do you know Athos? He was here. I watched him drag himself from the river," Jermaine said, and pointed toward the river behind Aramis and d'Artagnan. "You have shoulder guards like he does." He stepped closer to them and looked up at their faces. With his hands on his hips, he tipped his head back, and his face stern and inquisitive. "How come you're here? Did you get lost like he did?" He stumbled back when Osgar grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away.

"My brother tends to speak before he thinks," Osgar said, and kept his grasp tight.

Jermaine tried to turn and slap his brother's hand away, but gave up and huffed.

"Please," Osgar said, turned and walked toward the house. He introduced himself, Jermaine and Evan, and then looked toward his grandmother.

Eadan wiped her hands on her apron, stepped off the porch, and looked toward both men. "He didn't make it?" Her face fell as she met their eyes.

"He did," Aramis said and smiled. "That's why we're here —"

"Good, that's good!" Eadan said. She placed her hand on her heart and smiled. She stepped forward, cupped her hands on Aramis' cheeks and kissed his forehead. She repeated the affection with d'Artagnan. "Come," she said, "we were just about to have a meal — you both look far too thin for soldiering. You can tell me how Athos is faring and why you're here." She turned, stepped onto the porch, and entered the home.

Osgar chuckled. "I'll see to your horses. Don't keep her waiting." He smiled, took the reins and watched them enter the house. Evan and Jermaine followed.

"Sit," Eadan said, and collected more plates.

"Madame—"

"Eadan," she said, and turned toward them. "Just call me Eadan — Evan, stop picking your nose — go find a handkerchief."

D'Artagnan chuckled and quickly stopped when Eadan sent him a look that plainly said don't humor him.

"Eadan," Aramis corrected. "The king has requested your presence at the Chateau d'Ancy-le-Franc. He would like to thank you in person for saving the life of Athos, one of his most trusted musketeers."

Eadan placed the plates on the table. She paused in her actions and nervously wiped her hands on her apron. "Me?" She shook her head. "No, I can't," she shook her head again, "the king would never ask to see me. I'm nobody." She frowned and looked at her grandsons.

"You saved Athos' life," d'Artagnan said. "We would like to escort you and your family."

Eadan licked her lips, took a step back, and leaned against the kitchen counter. "I —"

"Can we go, Nana?" Jermaine asked. He gripped the table's edge with his hands until his knuckles turned white. He lowered his chin to the edge and turned his large eyes toward her. "Please, Nana — I want to see the king — I want to see him for real." He looked toward Aramis and d'Artagnan. "Does the king have chickens? Does he feed them? I think he feeds them." He turned back toward his grandmother. "Please, Nana?"

"Evan, go find Osgar, tell him I need him."

Evan slipped out of his chair, grabbed his handkerchief, and ran out the door. Aramis stood, closed the door and retook his seat.

"I did what anyone would have done, messieurs. Your friend Athos simply washed up on our land—"

"I found him," Jermaine said with a curt nod.

"You took a stranger into your home," Aramis said, "If you hadn't, he would have died." He leaned forward, looked toward Jermaine who watched them intently, and then looked toward Eaden who wrung her hands. "The king would simply like to thank you, and would like to do so in person. He rarely makes such a request."

"Monsieur—"

"Aramis, please, call me Aramis —"

"And d'Artagnan."

Eadan smiled and nodded. "I'm a simple woman, Aramis," she said with a shrug of her shoulders, "if the king can accept that, then I happily accept your offer to escort us."

Aramis smiled and pulled at the ends of his mustache. He looked toward d'Artagnan who nodded with a smile of his own. "We should depart as soon as possible."

"Tomorrow," Eadan said, "This is a farm and I need to make arrangements for a neighbor to see to the feedings and the milkings." She looked up as the door opened and Osgar entered with Evan following. "Let's eat. Then we'll make preparations."