Duplicity

Chapter Three

The field was crowded. Targets had been set up at one end. A square had been marked out for the fencing and another for the hand-to-hand combat. LeGrange was already there, looking sour. Athos reflected that their new Captain wouldn't easily forgive the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of the King. Neither would he be well disposed to those who had witnessed it.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to bow as the King arrived. Louis sat on a comfortable chair under an awning. A servant poured wine and set the goblet on a small table to the King's right. Rochefort strolled over to LeGrange and spoke to him in hushed tones. Athos would have given a great deal to know what was being said.

LeGrange stepped forward and held up his hands for silence. "You will divide into three groups. Once you have finished one discipline you will move on to the next and that pattern will be repeated until I am satisfied. His Majesty has given us some of his precious time." He turned and bowed to the King before turning back to regard the waiting Musketeers. "I expect nothing less than perfection. You may begin."

"Perfection is it?" Porthos grumbled. "I'll show him perfection." He strode off towards the area marked out for the fighting.

"I worry about some of our colleagues," Aramis said. "They are not as young as they once were."

Athos understood his concern. Reflexes slowed with age and bodies couldn't take the punishment they once could. He could easily identify at least three men who would struggle through this punishing event. Each were capable of excelling in one contest but were unlikely to have the stamina to rotate through all three multiple times in quick succession. "We will do what we can to protect them."

"Won't LeGrange know if we aren't fighting to our true ability?" d'Artagnan asked.

"Fortunately he has no idea what we are capable of," Athos said. "I will go and speak to Porthos."

Aramis looked around speculatively. "I think I will go and do some damage to those targets. You?"

D'Artagnan pointed towards the square where the first two Musketeers were facing off with their swords. "There."

"A good choice. See if you can be matched against Philippe, but don't make it look too easy. He has his pride."

"I'll make it convincing."

"Good lad. I'll see you later."

D'Artagnan joined the group of men watching the swordplay. The two combatants were putting up a good show, the bout ending when Alain scored a touch. He sidled up to Philippe. "I'd consider it an honour if you would spar with me." He was telling the absolute truth. His respect for the older man was genuine. He could see what a fine soldier Philippe must have been in his prime.

"Happy to oblige, youngster."

He saw LeGrange watching as they took up their positions. "Whenever you're ready."

TMTMTM

Athos had imparted his thoughts to Porthos. The best they could do was ensure the older men were given the maximum time to recover between each activity. One way was to encourage them to move from a strenuous exercise to the shooting, where at least they could catch their breath. He watched Aramis placing six perfect shots into the targets before wandering over to see how d'Artagnan was faring. The young man had a rare natural talent and a drive to excel. He had happily absorbed all the training, never complaining about the repetitive exercises. Athos watched him critically. It was clear to him that the young man had adopted a slower pace than normal so that Philippe would appear to be able to fight for a lengthier period than was actually the case. He hoped it wasn't obvious to LeGrange, or indeed to Philippe. When Philippe's breath started to labour d'Artagnan darted in, his sword point touching Philippe's shoulder. They disengaged and bowed to each other before leaving the field.

Water barrels had been set up and Athos collected cups from one of the servants. He walked over and presented them to the two men. "There is time to take your ease," he said, glancing over at LeGrange.

After meeting Athos' unfriendly gaze the Captain moved away to where Porthos was laughing as he faced his second opponent of the day.

After d'Artagnan and Philippe had left to take their turn at the shooting Aramis joined him. "I think we should show LeGrange what Musketeers are capable of. Will you join me in putting on a display?" Athos was feeling particularly vindictive towards LeGrange and had an urge to prove he deserved his place in the regiment.

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure."

They had to wait for two other pairings to finish. During that time Athos watched LeGrange as he made a slow circuit of the field. He saw the Captain beckon to Claude, one of their older colleagues.

"I wonder what he's saying?" Aramis asked.

"Nothing good would be my guess."

That prediction was proved correct when Claude's shoulders slumped and he turned away with the demeanor of a man who had been given bad news.

Athos' temper flared. He struggled to bring it under control as he removed his weapons belt and heavy leather jacket. Anger, as he was always telling d'Artagnan, had no place in a sword fight. Ruefully he admitted that it was sometimes hard to take his own advice.

When he and Aramis took up their positions a crowd began to form. It was no exaggeration to say that the two of them were amongst the best swordsmen in the regiment. They had fought each other many times over the years, always striving to win the bout. Outside the garrison any opponent would be trying to wound or kill so inside the garrison they had to ensure that they would be skilled enough to meet the threat. Minor mishaps were common during practice, although neither had suffered any serious injury.

They saluted each other with their swords. Aramis was grinning, always happy to demonstrate his prowess. Athos, on the other hand, preferred to block out the audience. He descended into a place of calm and made the first move. When sparring with an unknown opponent he would begin slowly, testing the man's skill. That was unnecessary when facing Aramis. Blades clashed and separated. Then it was Aramis' turn to launch an assault. In a blur of steel Athos was forced to make a strategic retreat. That retreat abruptly ended as he took the initiative. He felt a fierce joy at the perfection of their moves. When he attempted to slip inside Aramis' defence his friend twisted out of the way and laughed.

"You will have to try harder, my friend," Aramis said. His breathing wasn't quite steady as the relentless pace took its toll.

Had this been anything other than a practice bout they would each have settled the matter far sooner. Sword fights were rarely lengthy affairs as the exertion, physical and mental, was intense. After another brief flurry they separated.

"Enough?" Aramis asked quietly.

"Yes. I think we have made our point."

Two swords were lowered as Athos became aware again of his surroundings. Then he heard clapping.

"Bravo," the King shouted. "See LeGrange? See the skills of my Musketeers? Wasn't that magnificent?"

LeGrange's face was tight with fury. "Indeed, Sire. The regiment contains a number of gifted soldiers. Sadly that can't be said of everyone. It will be my mission to root out those unworthy of the uniform."

Athos bowed to the King and turned away. He'd be damned before he let LeGrange decimate the regiment. From the look on Aramis' face he knew that, as always, he could count upon his brothers. LeGrange had just declared war and Athos was determined to ensure that their new Captain would not prevail.

Tbc