Thank you all for your wonderful support of the series so far. I never expected to get such a warm response and it's been a joy reading your reviews.
This is episode 4... I can't believe we're here already.
S3E1: The Restoration of Brothers
S3E2: The Honor of Horses
S3E3: Sorrow
S3E4: Follow the Storm
On with the episode...
Follow the Storm
June 1633
June had arrived with torrential rains and severe thunder storms. It was unusual this time of year, and while the previous season's drought had caused the people, animals, and plants to welcome the moisture, the lands suffered as the result. Top soils washed away, and the flooding that started in meadows had extended to streams and creeks. Farm lands near water sources flooded and crops encountered the destruction. It wasn't until the lower bridge on Lake Oise washed away and took with it several ferries and homes that were unprepared for the rush of water, that the locals grew concerned. Flooding had happened before, crops were always at risk, but when modes of transportation were affected people took notice. Even the streets of Paris were feeling the pressure as water continued to rise, slap the banks, overturn small ships and boats, and enter the taverns and hostelries near the docks.
The people of Paris did their best. They swept and scooped water from the confines of their homes and used whatever they had available to prevent more water from entering: canvas bags filled with sand, buckets filled with dirt, and oiled tarps. Dogs and cats found sanctuary on rooftops, fencing, and upper levels of homes and barns while baskets, garbage, straw, and debris continued to float and catch along steps, pillars, and the sides of buildings.
Marketers did their best to combat the weather while selling their goods. Boots and oiled canvas had become sought-after commodities. Many entrepreneurs proved their worth as they created and bartered for what was needed and wanted.
The palace had been built at a higher elevation, which prevented the king and queen from seeing the daily struggles their subjects were facing. And while most only suffered minimal water damage, it was enough to be burdensome for those whose homes rested at, or below, ground level and those whose homes were closest to the waterways. Bedding and clothing were soaked, and parents worked overtime to keep their children and families dry.
The garrison too was suffering. The commissary, and apartments that were below ground level had been abandoned and the men were moved to upper level quarters. The four beds per room had been changed to six, and while they did their best to accommodate, the frustration was evident.
And still the rain continued.
Athos traveled to and from the palace, informing Treville of the devastation, and sharing his concerns should the rains continue and the flooding worsen. Treville, however, worked with the king and his cabinet as the threat of war continued to grow near.
The Musketeers were growing in number. Eighty-seven new recruits were still in training, understanding that the king would confirm them in the weeks to come. It would be one of the largest groups ever commissioned. Athos had worked carefully with the men and separated them into six groups of 35 men each, including the recruits. He organized and assigned each group by their talents and skills. He relied heavily on Porthos, who helped organize the trainings, Aramis, who instructed the men on marksmanship and d'Artagnan, who trained the men in swordsmanship. Remi, Mark, and Levi took up leadership positions overseeing their assigned companies. Eventually, each company would increase to 50 men.
The days grew long as the men trained, and recruits started taking daily tasks at and around the palace. While most understood the commitment, a few took their new positions as Musketeer Recruits on the lighter side. Porthos, however, was quick to correct and discipline the men who failed to abide by the mission and duty of the Musketeers. It was to be expected when many of them were young and just beginning to understand who they were as men and soldiers. Those unwilling to change, were politely removed from the rosters and ordered to return home.
Gentry had reluctantly handed over his cooking duties and instead turned to managing the kitchen, which ran 16 hours a day. While some men were skilled in the culinary arts, others were better suited for repairing tack, weapons, and tools. Others crafted armor, shod horses and worked the forge. Aramis, and a few carefully selected musketeers, worked alongside their newest physician, Dr. Tolin, a short pudgy man with graying hair, a tightly twisted mustache that curled toward his nostrils, and a thick, heavy, graying beard that tapped the collar of his blouse when he spoke. Standing only five foot three, he kept to himself and stayed away from the activities of training, focusing instead on current medical procedures and practices. Despite his age he was willing to educate those he worked with, and believed that each of the companies should have a skilled man familiar with the practice of healing.
Dividing the men by talent was a different strategy, but one Athos believed in. He wanted full companies of men who could handle muskets, horses, cannons, and swordsmanship. When the time came, he wanted to place those groups on the field of battle and allow them to use their skills without fear of defeat or being harmed by their own men. Athos believed that the fighting generals of old, those who understood battlefield positioning, skill, and force, would again prove victorious when the time came. He had studied warfare, experienced it, and believed in many of the tactics that had been used over the years. That did not mean he did not modify those same tactics in ways that he thought would benefit the men, his regiment, and France for the best.
Despite most of the recruits being young and inexperienced, the garrison and the Musketeer Regiment were running smoothly. The men knew what was expected of them and managed themselves as honorable, and respectable soldiers. On nights when they could relax, they took advantage of their freedom and enjoyed Paris and all she had to offer. They gambled, drank, ate, and searched for ways to enjoy themselves before the trainings and duties were once again at the helm of their day.
Aramis entered the captain's office and removed his rain cloak and looked toward Athos, who sat behind the desk. Several pieces of parchment had been rolled into balls and lay tossed aside near the fireplace hearth. The quill in his hand shifted and plumed with each stroke of his fingers. Water dripped from the ends of Athos' hair and fell in droplets onto his forearm. Water pooled beneath his chair as his doublet continued to drip. Mud had fallen in chunks from his boots and now dirtied the floor.
"Monsieur Roberge has started adding leather collars to his rain cloaks," Aramis said, and showed Athos his own. Aramis smiled approvingly and raised his eyebrows. "They work well and I no longer get a red ring around my neck." He pulled the collar of his doublet and blouse down to prove his point.
Athos looked at Aramis and frowned. "Unless it comes with a significant amount of padding, I doubt a leather collar would have helped." He motioned toward the coat rack near the door. Rain and mud fell from the cloak's hem and a rip that ran halfway down the front.
Aramis whistled. "What happened?" He hung his own next to Athos' and then extended the damaged leather with a pinch of his fingers. There would be no salvaging it. He then took a seat across from Athos, who continued to write.
"I jumped out of the way of a runaway team of horses," Athos said. He took a deep breath and replaced the quill into its stand. He pushed himself away from the desk and leaned back against his chair. He rubbed his face and then lowered his hands to his lap. "I need you and Porthos to speak with the owners of the inns," he watched Aramis groan and look upward as he sighed, "If the rains continue, it's only a matter of time before those living near the waterways will be looking for dry space if they're not already."
"Me and Porthos?"
Athos quirked a smile. "The women like you."
Aramis nodded and then with an exasperated sigh said, "It's my dashing good looks." He suddenly grinned as though it couldn't be helped, and pulled at the tips of his mustache. "What about d'Artagnan?
"I want him to take a company of men and check on the villages on the outskirts of Paris… he needs some experience and our recruits need a better understanding of what the future might hold."
Aramis nodded and rubbed his thighs as he leaned forward. He looked at Athos and then at the papers that had collected on his desk over the past few weeks. Messages from the locals seeking help, updates for the king on the status of the recruitment, potential dates for the men's commissions, training sessions, and equipment shortages lay in untidy piles. The flooding had put a stop to some orders, but it also increased the pressure to make sure the men were ready should they be called to duty. Regardless of the flooding, the heavy rains, or lack of supplies, once the king made his announcement, nothing else would matter.
"How are things looking?" Aramis asked. He leaned back, kicked his right leg out before him and rested his hands in his lap. "How soon before we're assigned?"
Athos rubbed his right temple and then looked toward the window as the winds caused the rains to slap the glass. "Soon."
Aramis nodded and stood. "We'll be ready," he said with confidence. "You, ah," he winced, "might want to change your britches and your doublet… it looks like you landed in horseshit when you fell." He chuckled, retrieved his rain cloak, and grabbed the doorknob. He watched Athos pull at his britches and then look at his doublet. "I doubt the king would appreciate the captain of the musketeers arriving at the palace smelling like the inside of a stable."