Morning. Thank you so much to all the readers and those who have left comments. I have chipped away at this chapter for the past four days and it is done at last. I think I left it at a suitable place! :)
CHAPTER 5
"How many?" Athos asked, reaching inside his doublet to pull Tréville's map from a concealed pocket.
"Three and ridin' easily. They don't seem to be in any hurry to catch us up. When they stopped an' started settin' up their own camp, I headed back 'ere," Porthos said, watching as Athos studied the map.
"They could be innocent travellers also going to Calais."
Porthos raised a cynical eyebrow. "You're not really believin' that."
"Perhaps not, but we will put it to the test. We come to a fork in the road tomorrow morning and should be taking the right-hand road, but we will bear left."
"Won't that take us too far out of our way?"
Athos shook his head. "It will add a little time to our journey, but we have the opportunity of re-joining the original road after a few leagues. Perhaps it is mere coincidence, but I do not hold with coincidences. If they stay their distance, we will not have any trouble, but it means we will have to be extra- vigilant."
Porthos understood his meaning. "I'll ride a way behind you an' keep an eye on them."
Athos nodded his approval.
"D'you think they're after the documents Tanquerel is carryin'?"
"It is possible but to what purpose? If it is merely to prevent the reliquary from leaving England, then all Louis has to do is to send someone else to get it. If it is to collect it in our stead, then they would have to impersonate the emissary and use our uniforms. The English know the King's representative is arriving with a Musketeer escort."
He gave a slight smile as Porthos growled his disapproval of the idea of anyone stealing and making use of his leathers.
"However, I have a feeling that they are going to wait until we are in possession of the reliquary and on our return journey. They are simply watching our every move and biding their time," Athos continued. "They know us now and will easily recognise us. Whichever one of us manages some time alone with Aramis can enlighten him as to what is happening."
"You don't want Tanquerel to know we might be being followed?" Porthos was astute in realising what Athos was not saying.
Athos was quick with his response. "I do not want to alarm him."
"Is that all?"
"I have no grounds to think otherwise." It was a careful yet evasive answer and its subtleties were not lost on the big Musketeer so that he thought for a moment before speaking; Athos was not one to be pressed into making unfounded accusations.
"When you've got those grounds, you'll let me an' Aramis know."
"But of course."
The pair returned to the emissary and Aramis, who looked up as they approached.
"Is all well?" he asked, eyes flitting from one to the other of his brothers to gauge if there were any reason for concern.
"As well as can be expected, all things considered," Porthos ground out.
When Tanquerel looked to him quizzically, Athos was swift to intervene with his enigmatic smile.
"What Porthos means is that everything is fine, given that we are sleeping under the stars tonight." He glanced at Aramis. "There is nothing to worry about. Porthos saw three wild animals, but they were at a distance and unlikely to meddle with us tonight."
"Wild animals?" Tanquerel asked. "What wild animals? Shouldn't you keep watch tonight. Oh I shan't sleep at all. I wish you had not said."
Athos' eyes narrowed. He had not really anticipated the emissary capable of being so easily unnerved. For a man who travelled a lot, Tanquerel must have spent nights sleeping in the open and encountered wildlife that may have posed a threat; his employment could not always have provided refined living. Perhaps he was being unjust, and the emissary was genuinely anxious at the thought of something prowling unseen on the periphery of their camp, but it was a difficult notion to accept for the man must be reasonably competent at defending himself should the need arise. He could not have depended upon a protection detail such as the one which the Musketeers were now providing and that was really for the reliquary itself rather than the emissary, whose role was to ensure a smooth transition of the item from England to France.
Either Tanquerel was, indeed, scared of wild animals or he was a consummate actor. Again, Athos wondered what the aim might be if that were to be the case.
"I am sorry to have disturbed your peace of mind," he said quickly. "When we are in the field, one of us always keeps watch through the night anyway. It is best to warn Aramis of what might be lurking out there when it comes to his turn. I trust that reassures you."
The watery eyes stared unblinking at Athos as if analysing what the Musketeer had said but, eventually, Tanquerel nodded his acceptance.
"Thank you for that warning," Aramis said lightly. "I would hate to be taken by surprise if a wild boar decided to warm himself by our fire and bring his family." The look he gave Athos indicated that he totally understood the meaning behind his brother's words.
The night passed uneventfully. Porthos took the first watch, Aramis the second and Athos saw the dawn. They kept the fire well fed for there was no point attempting to hide from their pursuers and if there were to be an attack, the flames offered some light by which they could defend themselves. Any concerns Tanquerel might have had did not prevent him from sleeping as gentle snores competed with the noisier ones of Porthos.
Athos spent some of his time watching the emissary sleeping, unable to explain or dispel his distrust of the man.
With the morning, there came fine weather which would make their journey all the easier. After eating, they broke camp and Athos was relieved to see Tanquerel swiftly gather his belongings and attach them to his saddle. The man was at least capable of faring for himself.
They rode on in a slightly varied formation from the day before. Athos still rode ahead whilst Aramis kept company with Tanquerel, engaging him in easy conversation. The man had a wealth of stories about his work and eagerly related them, punctuating his own tales with questions as to what life was like as a Musketeer. Porthos, however, hung back to keep an eye on the three who followed them.
It was late morning when they came to a clear fork in the road and, without hesitation, Athos took the left road.
Tanquerel slowed his horse and looked perplexed at the other branch.
"Should we not have turned right here? That is the quicker route for Calais," he said.
Athos turned his mount and walked it back to the others.
"You know the route to Calais?" he asked.
"I have had occasion to go there to board ships on several occasions," Tanquerel explained.
"Yet you did not think to say anything about your knowledge when we left Paris?"
"You gave every indication of knowing where you were going," Tanquerel said, an unusual edge creeping into his voice. "There was no need for me to say anything. Until now, that is, and I say that the right fork is the quicker route. We do not want to be delayed."
"The vessel will not sail without us," Athos replied. "The Cardinal assured me of that. Besides, this route will not take us too far out of our way. The map I have indicates that we will be able to join the other route within a few leagues."
"But why? What is your reasoning?" Tanquerel persisted. "If I recall, I hold superiority here as the King's emissary. I could demand that we go to the right."
Athos straightened in the saddle, his face expressionless and his consonants clipped when he spoke. Even Aramis stiffened as he recognised the signs of controlled anger awakening in his brother.
"And I am the lieutenant of His Majesty's Musketeers, charged by the King himself with escorting you safely to England and back to Paris with a priceless reliquary. I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that I fulfil my mission and if that means taking a slightly longer route, then so be it."
"So you are thinking that we are not safe?" Tanquerel's brow furrowed. "Why do you suppose that?"
The man's manner had rapidly changed from mild affability to open challenge.
"Perhaps it is because of the attack my brothers and I have already experienced whilst collecting the documents for you and the Cardinal, an attack that left one of our number injured. I am not naïve to think a further attempt to prevent us from getting the reliquary would not happen. We must be prepared. I must be prepared."
"What about your other man? Porthos?" Tanquerel demanded as Athos spurred his horse on again and set off along the road. "How will he know which way you have taken?"
"He'll know," was all Athos said without even turning his head as he carried on riding away.
Tanquerel looked at Aramis who merely shrugged his shoulders in innocence.
"Perhaps they discussed it beforehand," was all he could offer.
"Is he always this …" the emissary began, nodding at Athos' back as he sought to find an appropriate description, "arrogant? Don't you have any say in this?"
Aramis laughed. "Oh no, sometimes he's much worse. This is one of his better days."
Tanquerel did not seem to believe him.
"I have heard him called much worse. Cold, aloof, morose, awkward; you would not come up with one I have not heard." Aramis' grin faded. "But they would not give a clear or fair impression of Athos. When you get to know him, you learn that there is much more to the man."
"I do not think he likes me for some reason," Tanquerel admitted. "I do not recall giving him any cause for offence."
Aramis had sensed the same. For some reason that he had not yet shared, Athos did not trust the emissary. Now, though, Aramis saw his role as being peacekeeper between the two.
"It is not for me to say too much but Athos is complex. Things happened," and he hesitated. "It means that he does not trust anyone with ease and his friendship is hard won. Once gained, though, you have a friend for life."
"You sound as if you learned that the hard way," Tanquerel said quietly as they rode together along the tree-lined route.
Aramis smiled as memories surged to the fore. "Oh Porthos and I had to work very hard, believe me. As did Captain Tréville. It took a long time and a lot of perseverance." He grinned broadly. "But he eventually gave in; he could not resist our charms anymore."
Tanquerel could not help but chuckle at the Musketeer's enthusiasm.
"And now he is dearer to me than a blood brother. He, Porthos and I share a lot of history and I would trust both of them with my life and now, of course, d'Artagnan as well. There is a very important reason as to why Athos is Tréville's second-in-command. He is more than just good in the role and the men respect him. And so," he concluded, "when he says we'll take the left-hand fork instead of the right, I follow him."
Tanquerel fell silent, absorbing the information and Aramis was content to let there be a lull in the conversation. He was too busy thinking about Athos' animosity towards the emissary.
They stopped an hour later to rest the horses and to eat something themselves. It also provided the opportunity for Porthos to catch up with them and he did so just over twenty minutes later. As he had done the preceding evening, Athos joined him as he tethered his horse loosely enough to allow it to graze.
"Our little plan didn't stop 'em, not for long anyway. They were thinkin' about which way to go an' looked as if they were goin' to head right when one of 'em saw somethin' by the road to the left an' stopped to pick it up."
"What was it?" Athos asked.
Porthos shook his head. "I don't know. I was too far away to see clearly but it wasn't too big; maybe material of some sort."
"A glove perhaps? Or a handkerchief?"
"More likely a glove. It was dark; I could see that much. Anyway, they talked a bit and then split up. One took off to the right and the other two are behind us an' keepin' that same distance."
Athos considered what he had heard and then abruptly pulled at the leather gloves held in place against his body by his belt. He held out them out for Porthos to see.
"Here are both of mine."
Porthos raised an eyebrow and reached into one of the saddle holsters to pull out his gloves and likewise held them out.
"An' I didn't drop one," he said, pushing them back where he had stowed them. "You thinkin' one of the other two accidentally dropped a glove?"
Athos stood, hands on hips, and sighed. "Have you ever known Aramis to have such a careless accident, especially when we know we are being followed?"
"You 'avin' one of your suspicious thoughts again?"
"It is either my suspicion or another incredible coincidence. Someone just happens to drop something at that particular point so that our pursuers can be in no doubt as to the way we have taken."
Athos turned and walked back to where the other two were sitting eating and talking amiably. They stopped and looked up at him as he stood over them, arms folded across his body, his face giving nothing away.
"Gentlemen," he began, "has one of you lost something? A glove perhaps?"