Athos dismounted and handed Kelpie's reins to the young page outside the general's tent. "Don't tie him," he said. "I'll be out shortly."
"Yes, Captain," the young man smiled, rubbed Kelpie's muzzle and watched Athos enter the tent.
Athos nodded to the general's aide as he pulled open the flap to the tent and allowed him to enter. The space was dark except for one lantern that was lit on the desk across from the entry. General Raboin sat behind it, writing frantically and mumbling words as he continued. Furs covered the ground and hung from the frame of the tent to keep it warm. Raboin's bed rested to the right and was covered with additional furs, pillows, and blankets made from the finest wool. The space was warm and smelled of hides, sweat, and pine.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Athos said, and stood at attention while Raboin continued to write.
"You're late," Raboin said. He didn't look up. "I understand the roads were washed out?" He paused, kept his fingers clutched around the quill, and once again dipped the tip into the inkwell.
"Yes, sir."
"As you can see, the Spanish are already showing their acumen by proving to us they're able to overpower us with their cannons… An insurmountable number of cannons, if you ask me. — how they're getting supplies is questionable." Raboin paused and looked at Athos. "Did King Louis send with you any military equipment other than young fools and a few muskets?" He placed his quill in its holder and leaned back against his seat, exhausted. The lantern caught the gray hairs at his temple and his beard.
"We're a cavalry regiment of musketeers, General."
Raboin huffed and rubbed his forehead. "Horses?" He raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Horses will do me no good… unless, of course, the men grow hungry." He rested his elbow on the table and motioned with his hand flippantly. "250 men is all the king could afford to send… My men are already spread too thin trying to cover too much ground as the Spanish move eastward… Damn Spaniards…"
Athos clenched his jaw and remained silent. Raboin's army was short of men, a fault of no-one but the general himself and his inability to cooperate with the local nobility. Men, good men, would fight for their freedom. They were not willing to compromise their beliefs or their families for an unreliable general.
Raboin chuckled in frustration, stood, and walked to the narrow credenza across from his desk. He poured himself a glass of wine, leaned back against the buffet's edge, and looked at Athos. "You have a different opinion?"
"My opinions are my own, General."
Raboin huffed, but nodded. "I was warned about you, Captain. You seem to be a man of honor, duty driven, and known to make the tough decisions — even at the cost of a life or two." He quirked a half smile. "I like that… I can respect that. What I expect you to do is follow my orders, keep your men at the ready, and make yourself available should the need arise. I have no intention of losing this war, regardless of King Louis' failure to support my efforts at the eastern border."
Athos swallowed and furrowed his brow.
"You'll find under my command that I'm quite frank and expect my men to be so as well. Time is usually of the essence and I would rather men speak what they think versus consume time by dancing around whatever it is they need fear saying. Do I make myself clear, Captain?"
"Yes, sir."
Raboin paused and look hard at Athos while he remained standing in front of the door. "Your first assignment will be to remove the Fontaine Family from their chateau."
Athos clenched his jaw and frowned.
"I need a place to work if I'm going to win a war, Captain. This tent…" he waved his hand nonchalantly toward his belongings, "will not suffice. I require peace and quiet to finalize my plans and a place to meet with my captains and with generals Thorell and Vires when the time comes. The chateau is the preferable location, and, should the Spanish overtake the border, it will provide a temporary refuge for those behind its walls. The family should depart from the area before the battles begin. Soldiers dying under my command are one thing, but the deaths of locals — particularly children of nobility — are casualties of war and their loss is often a reflection on the military leaders who have been sworn to protect them. Hence my request to have them removed."
Athos licked his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, and inhaled deeply. "And if they do not have a place to go?"
"We're at war, Captain. I don't care where they go, or who cares for them as long as they are out of my sight and the sight of my men." Raboin rolled his eyes in frustration and took a long sip of wine. "My men are of my concern and all of them will do well to follow my orders or suffer the consequences. Do as you are ordered, Captain. I would hate to notify the king that his finest military regiment has already failed in its duty." He pushed himself away from the table and returned to his desk. "In case you haven't noticed, my men are spread thin throughout the northeast and replacements will not be forthcoming." He placed his glass on the desk and picked up his quill as he took a seat. "I want the family out by tomorrow morning. Lieutenant Grimaud will have my men move me to the chateau after they depart…" He looked up with his eyebrows raised. "I would hate to cause a scene where nobility are concerned. They already hate me and I would be remiss to further provoke their wrath." He chuckled. "Although, how quickly they are to forgive once their lands and estates are threatened." He waved his fingers toward the door. "You're dismissed, Captain."
Athos nodded and quickly left the tent, only to find the young page still standing beside Kelpie as he stood with his left hind leg cocked and his head lowered as the boy rubbed his jowl. "Thank you, son."
"Please, Captain, call me Gale — like the strong winds," the boy shrugged. "My father said it was my mother's idea since I was born on a windy night."
Athos quirked an amiable smile. "It's a strong name." He took Kelpie's reins, slipped them over his neck, and quickly mounted.
"I'll see you around, Captain." The boy stepped back and dusted his thighs.
Athos nodded, nudged his horse's sides, and rode to camp.