Chapter Nineteen
The Return to Paris – Day One
The Adrianna
Onboard the Adrianna, Athos was gathering his things, ready for departure. Foubier had fortunately secured his jacket and weapons belt when he found him, but not his sword. Earlier, they had both gone down into the ship's hold to find appropriate weapons for the journey.
It was quite a revelation. Sacks and crates were crowded into the space, which was considerable, but there was little room to move. Athos knew it was all bound for Le Havre but Foubier had already gifted him a hat and told him there were swords down here. Foubier pointed out the crate of muskets bound for Simeon which would now be sold on. The weapons were all in the same quarter of the hold. Foubier prized the lid off one crate and there, was an array of swords.
"Take your pick," Foubier said. "I can alter the tally, they will not notice one missing. We have our own weapons onboard, of course, but I thought you would like to look at the swords, as they are cargo and are of a particular quality."
Athos picked up several, hefting them and then cautiously swinging them in a careful, though practised motion, aware of his current limitations. Foubier watched, appreciatively, until Athos settled on a particular one, not unlike his own.
"Are your sure?" Foubier asked, as he picked up the lid of the crate.
"Very sure," Athos said, looking at Foubier gratefully. "I am indebted to you. Not only for this," he said, sincerely.
Foubier waved him away as he dropped the lid back on the crate.
"You are welcome. You may save my life with that in the days to come, my friend," he said, without his usual joviality.
Athos nodded once and slipped the sword into his belt, where it seemed to fit perfectly.
Back in the cabin, he hefted it once more. The steel metalwork of the guard was precise, as it twisted around his hand, its purpose to protect but also to look elegant. He used his right hand, as his left side was still painful. He was cautiously testing his positions, when a light knock came at the door.
Athos dropped the sword lightly on his berth and crossed the cabin to open it.
It was Marcel, standing with his back to him, but he swung around as Athos opened the door.
"I've come to check you over," he said, simply. "For your journey."
Athos tilted his head and looked at him for a few moments before stepping aside to allow him in.
"Is this Foubier's doing?" he asked, tersely, closing the door and leaning on it, watching the ship's cook/medic/carpenter.
"No," Marcel replied, standing his ground.
"Very well," Athos conceded, stepping further into the small space that made up the Captain's cabin.
Marcel pulled Foubier's chair out from behind his desk and motioned for Athos to sit. Then, he poured a generous measure of the Captain's Madeira and handed it to him.
"But this is," he said, passing Athos the glass.
Athos took it and peered up at him.
And Marcel smiled.
"That is the first time I've seen you smile," Athos said, with a small smile of his own.
"Likewise," Marcel said, placing his hand firmly on Athos's forehead, business-like.
He nodded to himself. It was cool. He pushed his hand back, tilting Athos's head back to look at his eye.
"How does it feel?" he asked, leaning in.
"Much better," Athos murmured. "Less painful."
"Still blurred?"
"A little."
"Shirt, please," Marcel said, stepping back.
Athos lifted it up and Marcel bent to look at his stitches. Athos flinched when Marcel pressed along either side.
"You seem … content here," Athos ventured, as Marcel continued his examination. He was not one for idle conversation, but he needed a distraction and he found he was interested.
Marcel looked up at him and Athos wondered if he would reply. Perhaps he had overstepped the mark.
But Marcel considered the question and then nodded.
"I am," he replied. "The Captain is ..."
"I know what you mean," Athos interrupted.
Marcel raised an eyebrow.
"Excessively optimistic, prone to adventure and remarkably nonchalant for such an unsafe occupation."
Marcel laughed quietly.
"No two days are the same," he agreed, without resorting to idle gossip, which Athos would not have wanted. "And we are all still alive," he added.
"A good state of affairs," Athos conceded.
"He's a good man," Marcel said then.
Athos nodded.
"I would like to thank you, Marcel. I believe I owe you my life."
"You have thanked me. Many times," Marcel replied, stepping back.
"Have I?"
"After every curse, yes," Marcel replied, with a knowing look.
"Ah."
"You are healing," Marcel said then, business-like once more. "But please, don't tear your stitches. The muscle will take time to heal. It stretches around here," he said, moving his palm from the wound toward his back. "So you may be aware of that for some weeks. And there are one or two stitches within too, as well as without."
"One, or two?" Athos asked.
"Three, actually," Marcel huffed out a laugh. "Only very small, but necessary. To be removed with the rest."
"Very well," Athos replied, waiting for an admonishment.
"You shouldn't be doing this so soon," Marcel said.
And there it was.
"I have no choice," Athos sighed.
"Your oath," Marcel stated.
"Undertaken with free will. I knew exactly what it entailed. It is my duty and honour to serve."
Marcel looked him squarely in the eye then.
"I understand," he said.
"You too, would be bound by such an oath if you took up medicine as your profession. You would be an asset," Athos said, softly.
"I am content," Marcel said, quickly.
"I am sure. But you have many years ahead of you, Marcel. You can steer your life however you choose."
Marcel looked at him once more, a small frown on his face and for the first time, Athos saw a look of uncertainty cross his features.
"My apologies," Athos said. "I did not mean to disquiet you."
Marcel opened his mouth to reply but instead, stepped back.
"I'll give you some balm. Apply it every morning. Change the bandage. I'll give you some to take with you."
"And ..." he added;
"I know," Athos replied. "Take care of him."
"And yourself," Marcel replied quietly.
They shook hands and Athos watched him go, closing the door behind him.
He was a remarkable young man, he thought.
Outside in the corridor, Marcel walked back to the galley, thinking he had also met a most remarkable man.
/
An hour later, Henry rowed two still somewhat hung-over, passengers from the inlet across the Seine and dropped them on the riverbank, before taking his leave of his Captain.
"Make sure you get true payment, Henry," Foubier said, shaking his hand firmly.
There was true friendship between these two, Athos saw, although for all his bluster, Henry deferred to Foubier when needed.
"Of course I will," Henry snarled, before looking across at Athos.
"This was unexpected, Musketeer," he said, holding out his hand. "But I wish you well. I have no issues with the King, so I trust your intelligence reaches him."
"We have no issues, Athos," Foubier smiled wickedly, "Because we don't pay taxes. If they were imposed upon us, it may be a different matter."
Athos looked away, briefly scanning their surroundings but in truth, suppressing a smile;
"I will pretend I did not hear that," he murmured.
Foubier laughed.
Henry reached out his hand and Athos took it with a soft smile of thanks.
"Come!" Foubier cried, turning to Athos. "I know where we can get two excellent horses."
Henry passed Foubier two sacks of provisions and took up the oars once more. They watched as the skiff moved smoothly off, back toward the Adrianna.
"Stay safe," Henry called, gruffly. "Both of you."
Foubier raised his hand and Athos tilted his head in thanks.
"I know," Foubier said quietly, side-glancing Athos. "You think you will be safe on your own, but humour me in this."
"Are you sure you will be able to reunite with your crew?" Athos replied as he watched Henry reach the ship and fasten the boat before climbing aboard.
"I will meet them in Le Havre. They will wait for me. If they are not there, they will leave a message for me with the Harbour Master. One way or the other, yes, we will reunite."
Athos felt a sudden pang for his own family.
As if reading his thoughts, Foubier slapped him gently on the back;
"Once we arrive in Paris and you complete your mission, I will buy passage on a vessel to Le Havre. Most of them go that way, after all!" Foubier finished. "The Adrianna is due a longer voyage to refill our hold. Who knows where we will end up? The Seine has its advantages but I crave the open seas and skies."
"But first, we have to return to Paris," Athos said, as they watched the crew continue to make the Adrianna ready to continue without their Captain.
"That's the plan," Foubier said, quietly.
To be continued ...