Duplicity

Chapter Ten

Guarding the exterior of the palace at night was, in Aramis' considered opinion, a waste of time. The royal family were well protected in their private quarters by the palace guard. Immaculately clad in their white and gold uniforms, these men were responsible for the security of the King and his family whenever they were out of public view. Aramis looked down at his own well-worn uniform and sighed. Yet he wouldn't have traded his pauldron for all the gold lace in Paris.

Arrogance also seemed to be a prerequisite of the job and heaven help anyone who suggested these toy soldiers should expose themselves to the elements in service to the crown. Which explained why it was the Musketeers who had to suffer the hardship. Fortunately the elements had been kind. It would soon be summer and the shortening nights no longer carried a chill in the air.

Time passed slowly but without boredom as he was accompanied by Porthos who somehow managed to see the humour in most situations. They'd entertained themselves with concocting fanciful fates for Rochefort and LeGrange. Then they'd considered in detail how they would spend their first evening of freedom once their punishment came to an end. Aramis supposed that he should make an effort to see Marguerite, who had become distressingly needy. His only consolation was that it brought him close to his son.

"Sun's risin'," Porthos said.

Aramis looked towards the east where the sun was crawling over the horizon. He was looking forward to breakfast and then a few hours sleep. Being confined to the garrison when not on duty was irritating as he enjoyed mingling with the denizens of Paris and indulging his innate interest in the lives of his fellow men. He chafed at the confinement even knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

"Time to go back to the garrison."

Athos, accompanied by d'Artagnan had arrived while Aramis had been admiring the changing colours in the sky.

"There's no hurry," Aramis said. "LeGrange won't be there this early so we can take our time."

They collected their horses and meandered through streets that were starting to come alive. They were on the final approach to the garrison when Porthos pointed to a man in front of them, weaving from side to side and stumbling over uneven cobbles.

"That's Philippe," d'Artagnan said, surprise evident in his tone. "He looks drunk."

"That would be most unusual," Athos said as he dismounted. "We had better help him."

They quickly caught up and Aramis heard Philippe muttering under his breath. Most of the words were unclear but he heard their captain's name more than once. Philippe hadn't noticed them, being engrossed in taking each stumbling step.

"You look like you could use some help," Porthos said as he slid an arm around the inebriated man's waist.

"I can manage." The assertion was slurred.

"It's only a few steps to the garrison. Let Porthos assist you," Athos said soothingly.

Philippe ignored him. "He's a murderer."

The volume of those words was enough to attract unwanted attention. Athos glared at the passers by who suddenly found they were needed elsewhere.

"Didn't have to die." Philippe continued his disjointed discourse. His face crumpled and tears leaked from his bloodshot eyes.

"He's talking about Claude and LeGrange," d'Artagnan said worriedly. "If LeGrange hears him, or even sees him in this state, I hate to think what he'll do."

"We need to get him to his room." Aramis felt deep sorrow for Philippe's pain. They had all known and liked Claude but the two older men had been serving together long before the Musketeers was formed.

Athos went on ahead to ensure that there was no-one around. Then he opened the door to Philippe's room and ushered him inside. "I will deal with this. Go and eat."

"You'll join us?" d'Artagnan asked.

"As soon as I can."

Despite his worry Aramis couldn't deny that he was hungry. The three of them went to the refectory where porridge bubbled in a pot over the fire. There were chunks of warm bread in baskets and jugs of ale. They helped themselves and found a table.

"I can't imagine how Philippe is feeling," d'Artagnan said.

"It's always hard to lose a close comrade." Aramis had lost more than a few and it never got any easier. The worst, and most recent, had been Marsac who he had killed to preserve Treville's life. That had taken a long time to overcome, during which he had been staunchly supported by his friends. He fervently hoped never to be put in that position again.

They had almost finished eating by the time Athos arrived. Although he fetched his breakfast he made no move to eat it.

"How is he?" d'Artagnan asked.

"He was asleep when I left. Claude's death has left him distraught. I fear that he will resign his commission."

"Where would he go?" Aramis wondered.

"I believe he has a daughter who lives somewhere in the city. Going to live with her could be an option." Athos finally picked up his spoon and began to eat.

"There isn't a man in the regiment who won't offer him support," Porthos said.

"Apart from LeGrange," Aramis reminded him.

"Far as I'm concerned he isn't a musketeer." Porthos refilled his cup then drained it in one long swallow. "I'm goin' to get some sleep."

Aramis lingered at the table after Porthos and d'Artagnan left.

"He was making threats," Athos said. "Incoherent ones mainly. Although his words were jumbled and his thoughts muddled by drink his intent was clear."

"LeGrange?"

"Yes. We can only hope he wakes with a clearer mind and the sense to realise that retaliation against the captain would be suicidal."

"I doubt if anyone would blame him." Aramis began to gather up the empty bowls.

"The law would blame him."

They dumped the dirty dishes in a large bowl of soapy water. They had just reached the yard when LeGrange rode in. He ignored them and appeared oblivious to the unfriendly stares of the few men going about their business at this early hour.

"He's early today," Aramis said.

"No doubt he's anxious to find new ways to embarrass the regiment while rising above the chaos that will ensue. Rochefort chose his man well. LeGrange is utterly without conscience."

"What happened between the two of you?" Aramis was curious. Athos had said little about their meeting.

"I pointed out some facts that he didn't like. I'll see you later."

Aramis watched his friend walk away with a very thoughtful expression on his face.

Tbc