Duplicity

Chapter Eight

A flock of seagulls circled round the returning fishing fleet. Their raucous cries mingled with the general clamour found in every working port. Longshoremen and sailors went about their business or lingered on street corners, talking to the ever-present whores. Barefoot children in ragged clothes chased a ball and generally got in everyone's way. The occasional gilded carriage pulled by matched pairs of horses trotted along the waterfront. The drivers were always conspicuously armed with pistols and a large cudgel. This wasn't an area of the city to visit unarmed. The clean smell of salt water was completely overwhelmed by less appealing odors.

Aramis watched it all with a keen interest while he, Porthos and d'Artagnan waited outside the harbourmaster's office for Athos to return. At first, when Athos rejoined them, Aramis was too entranced by all the activity to notice his friend's expression.

"Do you have the letter?" Athos asked d'Artagnan.

It was the tone of the question that caught Aramis' attention.

"Yes." D'Artagnan handed over the missive.

Athos turned it over and examined the seal. "This isn't the King's seal. It's Rochefort's." He broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.

"Have you lost your mind?" Aramis asked, shocked by the unexpected action.

After staring at the paper for several moments Athos handed it over. Aramis looked at it and then raised his eyes to meet Athos' intent stare. The letter that they had fought to keep safe, and which had almost caused Athos' death, was completely blank.

"I don't understand," d'Artagnan said.

"The ship we were sent to meet hasn't docked here in over six months. Neither is it expected in the near future. It appears, gentlemen, that we have been sent on a fool's errand."

"What do we do now?" Porthos asked.

"I don't know about you but I'm going to drink."

"It's barely nine o'clock," Aramis said.

Athos said nothing. He just raised an eyebrow before turning and walking back in the direction of the inn where they had spent the night.

"We'd better follow him," Porthos said.

They caught up with Athos in the taproom. He wasn't drinking although a flask of wine sat on the table in front of him.

"We need to talk about this," Aramis said as he pulled out a chair. "You clearly suspect LeGrange of having nefarious intentions. I'd like to hear your reasons."

For long moments Athos stared at the scarred wood of the table before looking up. "I believe him to be Rochefort's pawn. I admit there is no hard proof and that my conviction might come from my dislike of the man, but there it is."

"He and Rochefort are old friends," d'Artagnan said. "That alone is grounds for suspicion."

"Rochefort has made no secret of his desire to see the regiment disbanded. What better way than to install a captain with orders to destroy it from inside," Athos continued.

"What does LeGrange get out of it?" Porthos asked. "There's no glory in being the commanding officer of a failed regiment."

"That's true," Athos conceded. "I can only assume he has been offered some tangible reward, a position at Court perhaps or a significant amount of money. If I read his character right either would be a tempting inducement."

"Why would he send us all this way to deliver a blank letter to a non-existent ship?" Aramis asked.

"He may not have known," Athos said although it was clear he believed otherwise. "This could all be Rochefort's doing. Yet LeGrange clearly told us that it was a letter from the King. If that had been the case it would have carried the Royal seal. What interests me more is the fact that we were attacked."

"Someone told them we were carrying something sensitive," d'Artagnan said. "Who would have known?"

"LeGrange and that rat Rochefort," Porthos growled.

"I don't believe our lives were in danger until we fought back. The intent wasn't to kill us, but to embarrass us and the regiment by the loss of the letter," Athos said.

"I'd agree with that assessment," Aramis said, looking troubled. "At the very least LeGrange seems to be looking for a way to dismiss the four of us."

"We haven't taken any trouble to hide our disdain of Rochefort and he knows we won't stand by and watch the regiment being destroyed. We are an impediment to his plans." Athos looked at each of them in turn. "I know you have doubts, but can we afford to take the risk?"

"How do we proceed?" Aramis asked.

"We lie. We tell LeGrange that the letter was safely delivered, and we say nothing about the attack."

"Isn't that risky?" d'Artagnan asked.

"If he is working with Rochefort he can hardly challenge us without admitting that the letter and our orders were false. If he isn't then he won't be aware of the deception. He will believe that we carried out our orders."

"If he is working hand in glove with Rochefort we will be alerting him to the fact that we suspect something is going on," Aramis warned.

"We are already targets," Athos reminded him. "I don't think we have much to lose."

Aramis nodded slowly. "Then we had better collect our things and get back to Paris."

TMTMTM

They pushed hard on the return journey but even so it was late on the morning of the third day before the garrison came into view. When they dismounted in the yard it was immediately apparent that something was wrong. The stableboy led their horses away without a word. There was none of the usual activity and the few men they did see were walking sluggishly with their gazes fixed on the ground.

Porthos looked around and frowned. "Somethin' isn't right."

"Let's ask Serge," Aramis suggested.

They entered the kitchen to find Serge sitting at a table contemplating a pile of vegetables. Although he held a knife he wasn't making an effort to prepare them. A haunch of beef on the spit over the fire was singed on one side, evidence that no one had been turning it. D'Artagnan swung the meat off the heat.

When Serge looked up there were lines of grief on his face. "'Bout time you got back."

"What's happened?" Athos asked.

Serge had to clear his throat twice before he could push out the words. "Claude's dead."

"Dead?" Aramis asked at a loss.

The old cook looked around to ensure no one else was listening. Although he lowered his voice, it was full of emotion. "That bastard, LeGrange, was pushing him hard. Said he wasn't making enough progress and that he'd find himself out on the street. The doctor said Claude had overdone it and that his heart had given out. He just dropped dead in the yard. When LeGrange was told he just shrugged and said someone should get the undertaker. There was almost a riot. Claude was well liked. He was buried this morning. The Captain didn't bother attending."

"How is morale?" Athos asked. Claude's death was a devastating loss. He thought back to the conversation they had shared over dinner and wondered if there were anything else he could have said or done to avert this tragedy.

"What do you think?"

"I think it's time to strategize. It would be best not to involve you, Serge. We might have to do things that would leave us vulnerable to court martial."

Serge nodded to show his understanding. "Make him pay."

"Don't worry. We will."

Tbc