TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.

Chapter Twenty Six.

Constance Bonacieux strode through the archway, folded cloth hanging over one arm, she paused in her tracks noticing Porthos and d'Artagnan sitting at their usual table. From the distance she stood she knew they were fretting for Athos, her face that of concern as she continued her saunter towards them.

"How is Athos faring." asked the young woman as she approached the wooden table. The two musketeers were eating breakfast in silence, Constance stood eyeing both men as they glanced up at her, worry and anguish was evident and etched on both their features.

d'Artagnan smiled slightly as he looked into her lovely face.

"Doctor Lemay and his physician friend are with him now, we thought we would give them some space whilst he examined his eyes, Tréville and Aramis are with him."

Porthos swigged ale from a tankard and glanced at her.

"I 'ope he can 'elp 'im...the thought of 'im being blind...well I don't want to even think about it...Athos's life is being a musketeer...it would ruin 'im..."

Constance felt her own eyes welling up as Porthos voice broke off with emotion.

d'Artganan patted the big man on the shoulder and squeezed tightly before pouring his friend more ale.

"Let us not think that way my friend." muttered the Gascon.

"I am certain doctor Lemay would not waste time fetching such a physicain if he did not think there was something they could do for Athos' sight." commented Constance with feeling.

d'Artagnan smiled as he reached for her hand in his.

"You are probably right...I never thought of it that way." he murmered.

Porthos nodded.

"I 'ope your right Constance."

"She's always right." grinned d'Artagnan kissing the back of her hand. "Now why are you here mon amour."

Constance raised her brows as she gave d'Artagnan a glare.

"Do I need an excuse to call on the garrison, someone has to keep you boys in check, and in answer to your question I have the new cloth for the cloaks Captain Tréville asked for."

"Leave it in his office Constance, he will probably be a while." smiled d'Artagnan.

The young woman smiled fondly as she hitched up her skirts and turned on her heel, before ascending the wooden steps to Tréville's office.

ooo

Athos lay still in the bed, he could feel the fingers proding and poking at his eyes, now and then a slight cold sensation as something was administered into them, he could just make out the slightly moving shapes as this new voice spoke. The voice that doctor Lemay had introduced as Monsieur Gilles Dutroux. He could feel the slight grip of Aramis' hand squeezing his as his brother re-assured him everything was fine.

The Master of Science as Lemay had described him was adept when it came to the human eye.

Gilles Dutroux held a lens to each of the swordmans eyes, he carefully looked into each one with excellent scrutiny. Athos could feel the slight tickle on his face as Dutroux's long tresses touched his cheek, an aroma of scented cologne filled his nostrils as the man lifted both eyelids.

"You are indeed right Lemay, there is pressure on the optic nerve, also present are globe lacerations, that is why there is blood in the eyes." said Dutroux through toneless voice.

Aramis and Tréville caught each others eyeline as Dutroux declared his findings.

"That indeed came into my thinking Gilles." commented Lemay. "I did instruct Aramis to administer the salt and water, there could have been foreign bodies within the eye."

Dutroux glanced up and nodded to his friend.

"You did right my friend, I myself would have done exactly that."

Dotroux turned again to Athos and patted his arm.

"Pray tell me young man, have you any other discomfort within your eyes? he asked.

Athos blinked away the salt water and turned towards the voice.

"My head, it aches...but not as bad as yesterday, Aramis gave me a pain draught, that is usually suffice."

Aramis had moved to Athos bedside as Dutroux asked the question to his friend.

"It was a mild opia, I do hope I did right Monsieur? murmered the medic.

Duroux nodded as he patted Aramis on the arm.

"You did splendidly Aramis, that is what I would have suggested." he replied.

Lemay smiled towards Aramis as he caught his glance.

"Will I see again? came the sudden question from Athos.

Aramis felt a slight lump in his throat, the stomach churn had returned to his guts, he was in fear for his friend, he could feel the anguish in his brothers voice as he asked Duroux the dreaded question that nobody wanted to heed the answer to.

Douroux sat on the side of the swordmans bed and fiddled with his beard before answering the musketeer.

"I will endeavour to help you Athos, the eyes are very complex so I am going to administer one of my very fine concoctions."

Aramis and Lemay swapped glances of curiosity as Duroux turned to the kings physicain and stood.

"Lemay my friend we shall endeavour to do this together, I will be needing garlic gloves, oxgall and wine." ordered Duroux in strident tones as he reached for his cloak.

Doctor Lemay followed suit as he picked up his medical bag.

Duroux turned to Tréville and Aramis as he tied up his cloak bindings, he could see the worry on their faces as he ushered them out of earshot of Athos.

"Try not to fret too much, I shall do everything I can, I do believe this could be a temporary misfortune, but like I said, I shall do my upmost to save the young mans sight."

Tréville shook Duroux's hand with heartfelt emotion.

"I cannot thank you enough Monsieur Duroux, you have been most productive in your findings." said the musketeer captain.

"It is my upmost pleasure Captain to serve the kings elite guard...I shall return in hast in three hours, I need time for the solution to steep...now I must take my leave so Doctor Lemay and I can prepare the mixture."

Aramis suddenly turned to Lemay and quirked a brow in curiosity.

"Am I right in thinking that oxgall is bile from a cows stomach?

Lemay fixed his own cloak and patted the medics arm.

"That is quite correct Aramis." he replied with a grin. "That is quite correct."

The marksman frowned slightly and nodded.

ooo

Captain Tréville stared across the rooftops of Paris from his office window, the skies were beginning to darken, threatening a coming storm from the west, the clouds beginning to obscure the waning sunshine. The past couple of days had been a turmoil of mixed emotions and anguish as they all fretted for the well being of Athos, their beloved brother. Would his lieutenant ever see again, the thought of him being permanently blind was laying like a boulder on himself and his mens shoulders.

Tréville had left Duroux and Lemay with Aramis as they prepared the concoction that would hopefully help the injured swordsman. The musketeer captain suddnly turned back into the room to face Porthos and d'Artagnan, both musketeers sitting in silent reverie as they despaired for Athos. Tréville reached for his fine brandy and picked up three goblets between his fingers before setting them down and pouring out the spirit, he handed each man a drink and reclaimed his seat behind his desk.

Porthos sipped from his glass and eyed the older man.

"You summoned us captain, something tells me it ain't to drink brandy."

Tréville swirled the amber liquid around his goblet before taking a swig. He smiled slightly as he heeded the big mans question.

d'Artagnan swapping a curious glance with his friend.

"You are quite correct, I didn't ask you up here to drink my brandy, I want you both to interrorgate our prisoner, I want him to admit he works for Durand."

d'Artagnan frowned slightly as he eyed the older man.

"I thought you were going to wait for the other renegade to be apprehended captain? asked the Gascon.

Tréville pinched the bridge of his nose and swigged from his glass.

"Time is of the essence gentlemen, I want the Cardinal to pay for his crimes, I am beginning to wonder if the king truly believes me when I informed him he was involved in all this unrest."

Porthos met Trévilles resolute face across the desk.

"It will give me great pleasure captain." growled the big man.

Tréville looked at him.

"One thing Porthos, we need him alive, he has to stand before the king." added the musketeer captain.

Both Porthos and d'Artagnan swigged the remains of their brandy and stood.

"I am certain our dear Porthos can be gentle when he puts his mind to it captain." chuckled the young man patting his friend on the back.

Porthos gave his younger brother a scowl and snorted.

"I don't do gentle! he growled.

"Porthos!...come now...you know what I mean." said Tréville firmly.

"By all means Sir." growled Porthos.

ooo

TBC...

Hi guys,

Hope you are all staying safe and well in these unprecedented times.

Isolation is really not good when the sun is shining down, it makes you want to go out more, but alas we cannot so we have to put up with it. Let us all hope that this horrid virus peaks soon. It is so very sad to see the news and people dying, I really feel for the familes and friends of these people.

Anyway a short chapter this time, I am so pleased you are staying with the story, let us hope that the concoction of mixture will help poor Athos.

Will Porthos and d'Artagnan actually get the truth from the prisoner?

Will the Cardinal get his comeuppance.

Speak soon guys

Pippa xxx

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