Warnings ahead: This is one of the most difficult stories I've ever written… it's not an easy read and it's not meant to be. I do try and lighten it up a bit in later chapters. Special thank you to MountainCat... we had some good conversations about this one...
Milady fans… if you're still reading, hang on tight… chapter two is a challenge.
Season 3 Rewrite: Stories below
1. S3E1 The Restoration of Brothers
2. S3E2 The Honor of Horses (Please read this story first... it is essential to know what is happening in episode 3)
3. S3E3 Sorrow
A special thank you to everyone who is reading this and hanging on for the journey. It's been a pleasure sharing this with all of you!
Sorrow
The halls through the palace echoed with the footsteps of Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and d'Artagnan as they walked in unison toward the king's meeting chambers. Fog limited the sunlight that entered through the windows and hid the gardens beyond the walls. Empty vases stood atop narrow tables beneath the windows that would eventually be filled with fresh flowers as soon as spring's first blooms arrived. Servants moved quickly as they tended their duties: cleaning, organizing, and arranging decor to the king's specifications. Guards stood tall and idle next to the doors and as the musketeers approached. They turned in unison, opened the doors, and allowed them to enter.
Treville stood to the left of the king's empty throne, and two members of his cabinet stood to the right. Their hands clasped before them. Their ornate doublets were decorated with hand painted buttons, carefully stitched silks, and edged in lace. Their britches plumed at their thighs and white stockings gathered at their knees and ankles. They nodded out of respect as the King's Musketeers approached.
The guards at the back of the room opened the doors, and announced the king's arrival as he entered. Everyone bowed, and King Louis waved his hand in dismissal. His hair hung to his shoulders, and his blue doublet was trimmed and embroidered in gold.
"I have requested you here, Captain," King Louis said as he took a seat. He crossed his legs, rested his elbows on the armrests, and tapped the exposed wood that curved toward the seat with his fingernails.
Athos clenched his jaw and looked at the king. He could feel the tension of those behind him and he glanced at Treville, who sent him a slight reassuring nod.
"I am ordering you to increase the size of the Musketeer Regiment. I want 300 men ready to fight at a moment's notice. The Prince of Orange, Frederick Henry, will arrive in Paris in the weeks to come, while he was not specific with his announcement, after extensive consultation with Minister Treville and members of my cabinet, I believe he will request assistance in his defense of the Dutch Republic. If that is indeed his purpose, my Musketeers will be amongst those who will help defend it."
Athos flinched his brow, and bowed. "Yes, your Majesty."
"Our priority is to protect France, and the fighting has encroached onto my lands." King Louis looked toward Treville with a hint of annoyance from having to make the decision. He pursed his lips and looked out the window as the fog slowly cleared.
"It's just a matter of time before France is fully engaged in war," Treville said. "King Louis, his cabinet, and myself agree that aligning with the Dutch will provide us additional support while supporting them as our ally. I have sent orders to the generals to increase the size of their armies… we are currently not in a position to defend the king or Paris should Spain turn their eyes upon us. The goal is to have 250,000 men ready to fight by Winter. Any able-bodied man will be encouraged to enlist."
Athos licked his bottom lip and looked at Treville in question. "Have the nobility agreed to support the cause?"
Treville took a deep breath with a wince as the king huffed and raised his eyebrows in skepticism. "Not until a time that the king deems necessary will nobility be made aware —"
"They're already aware," Athos said. He held his tongue when King Louis looked at him in displeasure and Treville in warning. "Apologies, your Majesty, but if the fighting is already happening on French soil, the nobility will be the first on the lines of defense. It will take the generals days if not weeks to organize and recruit able-bodied men and move them into position as the threats continue."
Louis, with his elbow on the armrest of his chair, rested his chin on the curve of his hand, and looked at Treville in question.
"We are at a critical juncture as we move forward, Captain," Treville said. "Unfortunately, there has been talk of sedition from nobility closest to the border."
Athos remained silent when Treville sent him a look of warning. Athos frowned and then shifted his stance into a more relaxed pose. "I will start recruiting new members for the Musketeer Regiment immediately."
"Good," King Louis said. He clapped his hand on the curve of his chair and stood. He paused momentarily as his men bowed and then exited the hall, followed by two of his palace guards.
Monsieur Enzo Lavigne had been a member of the king's cabinet for over a decade. He stood tall with long gray hair and a dark mustache that blended into his beard. He had large brown eyes, a robust roman nose, and a mole that rested in an unfortunate location above his left eye. He cleared his throat and said, "It's imperative that this conversation remain confidential, Captain," he said to Athos and then looked at Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan. "We cannot have word of this getting out… if the Spanish learn of our plans, they may try to intervene while we're trying to build an army."
"Army should've been built years ago," Porthos muttered and looked toward the window in disgust.
"Perhaps," Enzo agree, "but King Louis has seen himself as a peaceful king and a small army —"
"Is a weak army," Athos said, and tilted his head. "As I said, Monsieur Lavigne, we will do our best to build the Musketeer Regiment accordingly."
"Fine," he said, nodded once and then immediately turned and left the room.
"There are but a few giants on lands filled with ants." Monsieur Tassée said and watched Enzo leave. He scratched behind his ear and the sound of his hair grated against his nails. He was a short man with a robust waist, skinny legs, and pale features. His attire was simple, but academic in nature, and those he came in contact with often mistook him for a professor. "We have discussed strategies in working with France's nobility, Captain Athos, but we have found ourselves," he shrugged and winced, "at the mercy of Rochefort's poor communication during his tenure with those who had at one time supported the Cardinal. It seems Rochefort's alliances with Spain were significantly greater than we could have imagined. As a result, work will need to be done."
Treville shifted and looked at his men. "We are working on a plan to rebuild those allegiances, but we have to move forward with establishing a military force that can withstand a direct attack. While we have seen no indication of such an action by the Spanish, with the war growing more intense between them and The Dutch Republic, it is only a matter of time before we are fully engaged."
"What are 300 musketeers goin' to do?" Porthos asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his shoulders.
"A great deal," responded Treville.
Monsieur Tassée breathed through narrow nostrils, whistled softly as he exhaled, and nodded toward the musketeers. "Gentlemen," he said, as he lowered his hands and excused himself from the room.
The door closed, and the click echoed within the confines of the room. Treville closed his eyes, placed his fists on his waist, and bowed his head as he clinched his jaw. "Your priority is to recruit, train, and prepare the men for war," he said as he looked at his men. "The men will need to be divided into six companies, fifty men each." He looked at Athos, "It's imperative that you know your men, Athos, divide them accordingly and understand that their responsibilities will be vastly different."
Athos nodded and scratched his cheek with a cupped hand. "I cannot recruit more men to fight in a war without the proper supplies, armor, bedding, weapons, horses… food —"
Treville nodded. "The king is fully aware and has assigned Monsieur Yolande to assist you with the items the men will need."
Athos craned his neck and said, "Porthos."
Porthos nodded, bowed toward Treville, and then exited the room to find Monsieur Yolande.
"The king's lead groom will assist with the purchase of horses. King Louis agrees every musketeer will be mounted —"
"D'Artagnan," Athos said without turning.
D'Artagnan quickly bowed, turned and clapped Aramis' shoulder before he left the room at a jog.
Treville quirked a smile. "I will leave the medical supplies for Aramis to decide what is best."
Aramis nodded, glanced at Athos, and then left the room, leaving Athos and Treville alone.
"The Prince of Orange's visit will be the catalyst in our efforts against Spain. I do not see him arriving here in person to discuss anything else."
"Where will you be sending us?"
Treville pursed his lips and looked toward the beam of light that entered through the window as the fog continued to clear. "Northeast… Le Catelet, the fighting is expected to increase in the coming months."
Athos nodded. He looked out the window and said, "Who will I be reporting to?" There was a tone to his voice that wasn't about the chain of command, but a sudden change in the lack of trust between them.
Treville recognized the tension, Athos' posture, and the cadence to his tone. Who he would report to was not only irrelevant at this stage, but unknown. The details of regimental locations, leaders, and reporting lines would come in the weeks ahead."Athos —"
"You should have told me." Athos paused, and then said, "Removing me from the Paris —"
"Removing you from Paris was a decision I made. Regardless of your position, you still report to me and, as your commanding officer, my concern is for your wellbeing and the wellbeing of the entire Musketeer Regiment. Milady de Winter committed a heinous crime against the king, Athos. She will not be provided mercy for cold-blooded murder regardless of how you feel about her."
"You should have trusted me to uphold the king's decision regardless of my past involvement or feelings for her."
"Perhaps," Treville acknowledged, "but I've seen her effects on you. I've seen her effects on the king… she is not to be trusted, even with the finest of soldiers." He looked at Athos and recognized his acceptance of understanding, and he nodded. "I would encourage you not to attend the executions today."
"Regardless," Athos said as he ran his hand along his jaw, "I will attend."
Treville pursed his lips and nodded. "See to your men and start the recruiting immediately," he turned and walked toward the exit, "the king may call on your services directly."
Athos watched him go. He stood alone in the room surrounded with long arched windows surrounded with trim carved into the shapes of cherubs and vines. Gold, creams, whites, and natural woods filled the room and contrasted with the rose and stone colored travertine floor. He rubbed his face, slowly turned, and walked to the exit. His cloak swayed at the hem and hit the backs of his legs. For a moment, time stood still, and greater yet, the end seemed near.