Dear all, thank you as always for reading and leaving comments. I continue to apologise for delays in uploading but building work still diverts attention here; it's almost three weeks behind schedule and I have everything crossed for a completion this side of Christmas!

I

The leave-taking from their English hosts was brief and primarily formal. The Earl of Suffolk unexpectedly appeared in order to bid farewell to Tanquerel whilst the Musketeers looked on, but the pleasantries of the previous evening had passed as had the bonhomie. Howard was a busy man and eager to return to London as soon as his French guests had departed. He was already in his travelling cloak and a servant followed, carrying his bags, an indication that he was intent upon vacating the castle as soon as propriety permitted.

He had fulfilled the task set before him by his Catholic queen and believed there was nothing to detain him in Dover. There was one comment apologising to the emissary for his unfortunate treatment at the hand of person or persons unknown, but the unspoken addendum was obvious in that, as the man was still breathing and about to leave for his home country, there was to be no serious investigation. It was merely an 'unfortunate incident', one to be brushed aside as if it never happened. No harm done, after all. Perhaps it was the result of high spirits on the part of the person instigating the attack; too much wine over dinner; an innocent comment made by Tanquerel that had been misinterpreted.

"It is so gracious of you not wishing to pursue the matter further," the Earl said with a sickly smile.

Athos listened to Tanquerel's responding platitudes and felt his heart quicken in anger. Of course the emissary did not want anything else done when he had, in all probability, orchestrated the attack upon himself.

The Musketeer's eyes swept the room. There was no sign of Chesman.

"Is he not returning to London with the Earl?" he asked as Fitzwilliam led them down the stairs to where horses and an escort waited to take them to the dock. He knew the way by now for it was not difficult and felt such attention unnecessary, but his English counterpart insisted upon completing the responsibilities expected of him.

"It appears not. He called for a horse and left shortly after we saw him eating earlier. Perhaps he has gone on ahead to secure overnight lodgings for the Earl along their route."

Or perhaps he has something else demanding his attention. The thought flashed unbidden through Athos' mind for it was not good that the Englishman had disappeared so suddenly.

Once they had all mounted, Willoughby said his own farewells for he was going in the opposite direction. His superiors in London would be waiting for his own report on the events surrounding the reliquary's hand-over. He reached across and shook Athos' hand firmly.

"You will send me word of what happens on the remainder of your journey and to the reliquary," he insisted.

"Of course," Athos reassured him, "and you must continue to watch Chesman when you find him."

The Englishman nodded.

"If your work ever brings you to Paris," Athos went on, "you will always find a warm welcome at the garrison."

"We could show you the sights of the city," Porthos added with a hearty laugh. "All the best eatin' an' drinkin' places for a start."

Willoughby grinned. "I will hold you to that, gentlemen." He looked at Athos. "Safe journey."

There was no doubt that he meant it.

Fitzwilliam remained on the steps and raised a hand to the departing party. As much as he had wanted to accompany the Frenchmen to the dock and watch their ship set sail, he had to see the Earl before he left for London as there was still that vital, true account of Tanquerel's beating to hand over and he was not sure how the news would be received.

II

Athos stood at the bottom of the gangplank and fought to regulate his breathing as he tried to ignore the vison of the grey sea, still angry in the aftermath of the night's storm and threatening to unleash another. Sweat beaded the Musketeer's brow.

One foot in front of the other. You can do it. You have to do it.

One part of his brain was encouraging, urging him on to the ship whilst another part gave a counter argument.

You do not have to do this, not now. Stay here in England and gather proof against Chesman. Time in England would suit you well. Perhaps you could work with Willoughby. Resign your commission. Start afresh well away from France … and her!

It was days since he had given thought to the memory of his wife who usually haunted every waking moment, but she was not going to be permitted to monopolise him even now. A large hand gently touched the small of his back.

"Let's go," a deep voice rumbled. Porthos was there, supporting him and concerned for him and he knew in an instant that no matter the extent of his suffering over the next few hours, he would never abandon his brothers by refusing to return to France.

Taking a deep breath, he marched up the gangplank, nodded curtly to the ship's captain who was there to greet his passengers, and continued forward on the deck to the area which he knew was waiting for him.

Porthos watched him go and turned to Aramis, an eyebrow raised as he whispered, "That was the easy part."

Athos had set down his bag and was busy removing his weapons belt when his travelling companions joined him.

"Are you going to make use of the cabin below and rest?" Aramis asked walking over to Tanquerel who stood apart from them and leaned against the ship's rail . The bruises he had collected the previous evening had fully appeared now and were dark with a blue and purple hue.

"I will go below when we set sail. I have no desire to be on deck when we hit the open sea," he said, pointedly looking at where Athos had seated himself, Porthos beside him as they talked quietly. Tanquerel frowned. "Should he not be asleep by now?"

It was Aramis' turn to appear puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Athos. I saw him take the draught you gave him this morning. When he swallowed it yesterday, we were barely on board before he was asleep."

Aramis chuckled. "It would be more than my life's worth to pull that trick on him twice. I had a hard enough time convincing him to take the herbal dose today and he made me promise faithfully that there was nothing added to put him to sleep. I even showed him that particular bottle to prove it was almost full, that the only dose gone from it was the one I used for him yesterday." His amusement faded when he saw a strange expression pass quickly across the emissary's face. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, I …" Tanquerel began hastily. "I think I will take a turn about the deck and head below after all."

"Wait," Aramis said, bemused by the sudden change of mind. "Porthos will accompany you."

Suddenly Tanquerel snapped. "I would like some time alone. I hardy think I am going to require a protection detail on board this vessel."

Aramis' eyes narrowed as he maintained a level but insistent tone. "There I beg to differ, and the others would agree. We are in possession of the reliquary now and the potential danger to us has therefore dramatically increased." He had heard enough over the past twenty-four hours about the man to harbour his own suspicions about anything Tanquerel said. "Athos would not want you to be on your own, even at sea."

Tanquerel stepped closer, the move designed to intimidate. It might have worked on others, but the trained Musketeer stood his ground.

"I do not need a guard," he hissed, his eyes blazing. "You would do better going to your lieutenant who, I am sure, will be requiring your assistance before too long. I wonder at Captain Tréville's wisdom in selecting such a useless individual to lead this mission!"

Before Aramis had the chance to think of a suitable riposte, Tanquerel had stormed off. The Musketeer wasted no time in re-joining his brothers.

"You'd better get after Tanquerel," he said to Porthos. "He's wandering the ship."

"What's 'e doin' that for?" Porthos was just as bemused.

"I don't know," Aramis admitted, "but he seemed more than a little alarmed that Athos here isn't asleep. He was expecting me to have added something again to that draught I prepared."

"Interesting," Athos added. "Go, Porthos. Do not give him the opportunity of contacting anyone on board."

"I fear Tanqurel was anticipating that you would be asleep and vulnerable to any attack," Aramis said when Porthos had disappeared from sight.

"The person watching me yesterday was Chesman, I am sure of it. It is also interesting that he left the castle well before us this morning."

"To give him time to get down to the dock and board before us," Aramis finished.

"Exactly," Athos agreed. "He expects to find me alone as yesterday." His slight smile was anything but amused and welcoming. "And he will find me alone as soon as we leave Dover."

"Athos, do you think this wise?" Aramis could not conceal his concern.

"The sooner he is tempted to launch his attack, the better. I would not be surprised to find that he was watching us at this very moment, waiting to seize his chance and I would hate to disappoint him. Too far into the journey and I may not be in a fit state to fight him."

"How are you feeling at the moment?"

"Your draught is currently working, for which I thank you. Now I need you to leave me alone and follow Porthos and Tanquerel. He should not have had the time to find Chesman and warn him to abort whatever he is intending."

"Why don't we save time and just ask the ship's captain if there are any other passengers on board?"

"Then we would be presuming that he is not party to this conspiracy. If he is, he will lie to us and even if he is not involved, Chesman and Tanquerel could have bought his silence," Athos answered.

"I don't like this plan," Aramis sighed.

"It is hardly ideal, I know, but the difference today is that I shall be fully awake, ready and waiting for Chesman or whoever," Athos said with confidence. It was just as much for his own benefit as for that of his brother. "Besides, if it prevents one more person from being after us and the reliquary, it is a risk worth taking."

"I shall stay close; you may need help."

"No!" Athos shook his head vehemently. "We do not know where he is concealing himself. You must be seen to leave me, or he will not be drawn to make a move."

As if to indicate that their conversation was over, he laid his main gauche on the sacks to his left and set his hat over it. His sword lay unsheathed under his feet and his dagger on the sacks to his right, partially covered by his cloak but close to his fingertips. He tipped his head back to rest against the ship's side and appeared to close his eyes, but Aramis knew they were not totally shut.

Every fibre of Athos' being was on alert, but he easily gave the semblance of a man completely relaxed and asleep.

III

Aramis was not happy but did as he was asked, and walked off to find Porthos, eyes surreptitiously ranging over the deck to see if he could spot a hiding place large enough to conceal a man.

He was furious with Tanquerel and wondered how he could contain his anger enough to be civil. Not for the first time, he admired the way Athos could suppress what he was feeling and wished that he could emulate that composure; it was going to be hard to be polite to the emissary and he was eager to know when Athos would deem the time to be appropriate in confronting the man. In his opinion, the sooner the better.

IV

Tanquerel was seething as Porthos, with the bag containing the reliquary slung easily over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing, refused to be deterred and remained close.

He desperately wanted to find Chesman, to warn him that the Musketeer Athos was not sedated as he had expected. Damn the officer! He was, without doubt, the proverbial thorn in the side. If Chesman were not successful in dispatching the man, it would be down to Tanquerel to snatch at any opportunity, either to kill him outright or to cause enough serious injury that Aramis would be kept busy tending him, thereby leaving only Porthos to manage.

Merely thinking the Musketeer's name seemed to summon him as, with a sinking heart, Tanquerel watched Aramis stroll towards them and realised he could not even arrange to send a message by the ship's captain.

Despite the emissary having heard of Athos' prowess with a sword, Chesman was a noble and should have had adequate training with the weapon to afford him some skill against the King's man. Just how skilful would remain to be seen!

However, if Chesman were to come off worst in the encounter, it would mean one less person to benefit from the ultimate spoils, but Tanquerel was not looking forward to breaking the news to his employer.

This time, he was not thinking of Cardinal Richelieu.

V

They had been on board for almost an hour and on the open sea for over half that time before Athos felt the first stirrings of discomfort. In his head, he uttered a curse that the efficacy of Aramis' herbal medicine was already wearing off for the swell was enough to set his stomach churning. The threat of another storm blowing in had not materialised yet into anything more worrying but there was a severe chill in the air, and he shivered, not daring to pick up his cloak because he was not supposed to be awake and aware, nor did he want to reveal his dagger. It was hard to resist the temptation to blow upon his fingers to ward off the growing numbness from the decreasing temperature. He regretted removing his gloves and putting them in his pocket when he had first settled himself.

He had to portray the image of an unguarded and therefore easy victim and he consequently hoped that Chesman would make his move soon. There was the fleeting doubt that he may have misjudged the situation entirely; that Chesman was not on board and that nothing was going to happen.

As in the previous day, his eyes were mere slits, but they afforded him enough of a view of the deck in his vicinity.

And then he saw him. Chesman. He was in exactly the same place as when Athos had spotted him on the outward journey.

Careless, Athos thought to himself as Chesman began to make a stealthy approach across the deck towards him, the wind in the sails and the crash of waves against the hull muffling the sound of his footsteps.

Athos' fingers closed around the hilt of his dagger.

VI

Tanquerel's unease heightened as time wore on. He had not gone below, preferring to remain on deck to see what, if anything, transpired. His nerves were fraying as the two Musketeers sought to engage him in what he perceived as a trivial conversation.

His nervousness was exacerbated at one point when Porthos suggested that one of them go to see how Athos was faring, but he was soon relieved when Aramis quickly dissuaded him.

"You know what he's like when sick; he much prefers to be left alone. He will not thank me for checking on him repeatedly," Aramis said.

Porthos did not remind him that he had been nowhere near Athos since they had set sail and that their friend's wellbeing may have deteriorated significantly in the interim, but Tanquerel was placated. Athos might not be asleep but the more seasick the Musketeer became, the easier it would be for Chesman to overcome him. The thought put his mind at ease, and he began to relax and feel more optimistic. Such was his pre-occupation that it did not occur to the emissary that Aramis was behaving in a manner contrary to the day before when he would not leave his brother's side until the ailing man told him to go away.

All conversation, light-hearted or otherwise, abruptly ceased when a new sound reached them above the combined noise of the ship and the sea,

It was the unmistakable cry of a man in pain and the clash of weapons.

"Athos!" Aramis gasped and broke into a run, Porthos at his heels.

There was nothing else for Tanquerel to do but follow in their wake.