TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.

Chapter Six.

Rue La Huchette Mews.

Paris.

Athos and Aramis made their way down the stairs pausing at the door of Madame Evette Anon.

Aramis had taken a bunch of keys from his doublet. Athos watched as the markman tried each one before finding the correct cut, both men exchanging a pleasing quirk of a brow.

Aramis pushed open the door and entered, Athos behind him.

Both musketeers scanned the chamber, the aroma of primrose scent filled the air. Gowns lay strewn across the large bed.

A large cabinet stood against the far wall, next to a torn and tattered chais lounge. A chest of drawers on either side of the bed.

Both musketeers each going through a chest each as they searched for any clue they could find to exonerate their youngest brother.

Rolled up parchments filled a drawer as Aramis pulled it open. The marksman slowly rummaging through each one and scrutinising every page as swiflty possible.

Athos tried a small cupbaord chest finding it locked, he turned to his friend

"Aramis, the keys!

The marksman taking them from his doublet and flinging the bunch over to his friend who caught the bunch.

The swordsman picked the smallest on the bunch and tried it, nothing, the next one fitted the cut as the lock sprung open.

Small missives were tied into bunches with ribbons as Athos picked one bunch up and untied the knot. His eyes widening as he noticed the seal of Cardinal Richelieu. But that was passed news, Richelieu was dead, he needed more proof. Athos tried up the missives carefully before picking up another, letters from Venell the red guard captain, dear God what have you been up to?

"There are letters from Richelieu and captain Venell here, it would seem she has been colluding with the red guard aswell." murmered the swordsman truning to the back of Aramis as he too went through different scrolls and missives.

Aramis suddenly turned to his friend holding up a broken sealed parchment between his fingers, he opened and read.

"Our old red guard friend Artus was right...this is from Durand's office."

Athos moved towards his friend as he began to read.

Dearest Madame Evette Anon,

The soldier in question will be leaving Madame Bonacieux' residence on the morrow before eight of the clock. I am relying on your stratagy madame, His Eminence does not take kindly to thwarted tasks.

Your Most

Reverend Deacon

Clement Arouet

Athos took the letter from the marksman in his gloved hand and scanned the page.

"What such misfortune the cardinal did not sign it himself my friend. But let us be thankful for small mercies, we shall show this to Tréville, it may be of some use afterall." said the swordsman handing back the letter to his friend. "He is most devious as to not name d'Artagnan in the letter. But I indeed think we have a least some proof of this charade."

Aramis nodded towards the swordsman in agreement as he placed the missive into his doublet pocket before speaking.

"It seems to me, Durand has his whole de ferula office conspiring together in this, I have misgivings over the whole scenario Athos, I don't like any of it, I believe this is just the beginning of something much more sinister."

Athos eyed his friend, he knew he was on to something, Aramis was very seldom wrong when it came to his qualms. He felt a slight shiver run down his spine, indeed he could not disagree more.

"Come...lets return to the garrison." said the swordsman. He suddenly paused in his tracks as he noticed a wooden amoure, he turned to Aramis who quirked both brows and followed his friend to the ornate piece of furniture. The swordsman opened both doors towards himself, a waft of scent filled his nostrels as both musketeers stared at wigs in all various colours, fair, golden, raven.

Aramis picked up one and shot a glance at Athos.

"Madame Jenelle has dark raven hair, I remember her in the court chamber." Murmered the marksman. "I think we may have just discovered our devious victim of rape and attempted murder mon ami."

Athos was nodding slowly as his friend contemplated all scenarios.

Both men caught each others eyeline before swiflty rushing from the chamber.

oooooOOooooo

"You two took yer time." growled Porthos as the three musketeers walked swiftly back to the garrison. "Well did yer find anythin'?

"The person in the window my friend was actually a former red guard captain." murmered Athos checking his surroundings for eavesdroppers.

Porthos paused in his tracks as his mind absorbed the statement.

Aramis and Athos turned and eyed the big musketeer.

"You are jestin? right? growled Porthos.

Athos stood almost pan faced and frowned at the big man.

"Does he look like he is jesting my friend? replied Aramis stifling a grin.

The three men continued their swift strides towards the garrison.

"When you say former...'thos...has he resigned his commission?

"Indeed he has, before our time though, he is in his seventies now, he was captain when King Henry lV reigned France." replied the swordsman.

"Something else you will probably not believe mon ami." said Aramis casting a swift glance at Athos. "He is willing to help us."

Porthos looked from Aramis to Athos as they walked and weaved through the street.

"Jesus!...a red guard 'elpin' the musketeers...now I somehow think Tréville will question that."

"He said himself that the red guard of today were not honorable men, he actually called them scoundrels and rogues." commented Athos with a slight smirk.

"Do yer trust 'im though...for all we know he might be part of this bloody mockery." murmered the big man.

"There are not many I trust my friend, but he was genuine, that I could tell." answered the swordsman.

"Yes...I believed him too." added Aramis. " He sits in that room all day, his legs are beyond any medical help, he uses a chair on wheels."

Porthos furrowed his brows and nodded slightly as the three musketeers entered the garrison archway.

Captain Tréville's Office Chamber.

Musketeer Garrison.

Tréville paced back and forth as he took in the intellegence gathered by Athos and Aramis, he scanned down the page of the missive found in Madame Anon's lodgings.

"I shall show the king this missive...let us hope this is proof enough to free d'Artagnan." said the older man.

The musketeers nodded in agreement.

"These wigs you found, you really think she could be involved? queried the musketeer captain.

"We all seen this Madame Jenelle in the court with our own eyes captain, she fits the description given to Athos and Aramis." growled Porthos.

"Yes, but we only seen the back of her as she walked towards the judge." commented Aramis. "She did have raven hair."

Athos stirred in his chair.

"Your quite right my friend...was it a wig? Was she really Madame Anon in disguise."

The three musketeers sat in a semi circle as they exchanged words and thoughts of the findings.

Aramis toyed with his hat as he glanced from his friends to Tréville.

"I would say it is too much of a coinsidence Captain...it is certainly worth an investigation."

"I concur with Aramis captain." said Athos. "Something is amiss in that house, and we need to know what."

Tréville retook his seat behind his desk and poured brandy into four goblets. He handed one to each man and swigged his own back.

"This former red guard, what was his name.? he asked as he took another swig from his goblet.

"Artus Bernas, he was injured years ago and resigned his commission." replied Athos.

Tréville pondered over the name, he nodded slowly.

"The name is ringing bells in my head...If my memory serves me well, he was indeed a very honorable man. The king will not know of him though,it was before his time."

Porthos snorted slightly.

"I find it 'ard to think any red guard 'onorable."

"The red guard gentlemen, were once an elite regiment." retorted Tréville. "The kings father spoke admirably of them, before you boys were even born."

"But alas things change, sometimes for the worst." commented Athos.

"Henry must be spinnin' in his tomb." growled Porthos casting a glance at his brothers.

A loud rapping on the office door suddenly waned the discission prompting all eyes to turn to the door.

The door opened as Brujon put his head around the wooden structure.

"My apologies for the intrusion Captain, but Madame Bonacieux is adament she wishes to speak with you."

Before Tréville had time to answer the young cadet, Constance pushed her way past Brujon, her face filled with evident dispair, tears had filled her eyes as she hitched up her gown and entered the chamber.

"I have only just heard about d'Artagnan...when were you going to even tell me...dear God...why is he in the Bastille? her voice filled with enrage and anguish.

Aramis jumped to his feet swiftly and pulled out another chair.

"Please Constance...be seated...I shall fetch you some brandy."

Constance scanned each man before her eyes fell on Tréville. The older man was pouring out another brandy and had handed it to Aramis.

The marksman handed her the goblet as she remained standing.

"What is sitting around talking going to achieve? should you not be fighting to release him?

"My dear Constance...we are going to the king forthwith, we have proof he was falsely accused." retorted Tréville.

Constance slowly moved her body down to a sitting position, her gown falling around the chair legs as she sat.

"What has he been accused of may I ask." she asked suddenly.

The musketeers swapped glances as the young woman asked the question, each man not wanting to answer.

"WELL! she gasped.

Tréville had read their minds,

"Rape and attempted murder of a certain Madame Jenelle." sighed the older man.

Constance's face suddenly drained of colour as she sat staring at the musketeer captain."

"WHAT?

"NO!

ooooooOOOooooo

TBC...

Hi Guys,

Sorry for the late posting, have been so busy this week. Cannot believe how fast the year has gone.

Anyway I really hope you are still with the story and are enjoying it.

Thank you ver much for the comments.

Speak soon

Pippa xxx

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