Chapter 6

Athos grabbed Billy's doublet and draped it over the boy's head. Crouched on one knee, Athos looked at his arm, the blood that had dried on the sleeve of his blouse, and the long cut that ran along the length of his forearm. He heard the cannon's roar and ran to the window to look outward. Smoke filled the air, and shots rang out from both sides.

The battle had begun.

Athos turned, jogged across the room, grabbed the weapons belt Billy had stolen, and wrapped it around his waist. He placed the unfamiliar blade back into its scabbard and then ran for the door through which Grimaud had escaped earlier.

The corridor was long, narrow, and lit with lanterns that hung from iron sconces along the stone walls. Cobwebs, dirt, and moisture seeped through the cracks, along the mortar, and near the edges of the long steps. Athos grabbed a lantern, pulled the sword, and tightened his hand around the grip. He could hear mumbling voices as he neared the entrance, and he paused for just a moment and tried to listen.

A door opened, the lantern light flickered and danced, and Athos placed it on the step as he pressed his back to the wall. He winced, feeling the cuts protest to the movement and pressure, and held the sword at the ready.

Someone laughed, and the scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the corridor. Athos closed his eyes as his stomach growled. He listened, and then slowly continued up the steps. The stairwell turned and his shadow grew longer with the flame of the lantern behind him. The voices grew louder. Kitchen staff chuckled and spoke irreverently about General Raboin and his eating habits. The bakery table creaked as the bread was kneaded. Steam billowed from the large black kettle that hung from a trammel hook over the fire. The steady rhythm of a knife striking the cutting board echoed as carrots, turnips, and parsnips were chopped for stew.

With a bloodied hand, Athos grasped the edge of the door and pushed it just enough to peek around. He paused suddenly when the woman kneading the bread saw him and stopped what she was doing.

Their eyes met.

Athos felt his heart slam against his chest. She only need scream and the entire staff would run for the kitchens, soldiers, and guards would soon follow. He gently pressed his finger to his lips, and the woman glanced over her shoulder to look at him and nodded.

"Ladies," the woman said. "It's time to let the dough rest." She covered the dough, dusted her hands on her apron, and turned toward the two younger women. "Matea, go find a nice bottle of wine," she smiled. "Something we shouldn't get into, and Ruth, find an unoccupied room. The general is going to need our full attention this afternoon, and I'm not quite strong enough for his antics." She wiped her brow with the back of her wrist and exhaled through parted lips.

Ruth chuckled. "A brilliant plan, Rose," she said and shifted the pot away from the fire, and then followed Matea with a giggle from the room.

Rose stepped from around her table, looked behind her at the door, and then focused on Athos. "You're that musketeer," she said in a soft voice. She motioned with her hand for Athos to enter the room, and then she quickly poured him a glass of water. "I've heard the general speak of you… Anyone who can make the general that angry is a friend of mine. He's an insolent bastard." She blushed, shrugged, and quickly said, "I've also seen you with the Fontaine family — Walnut seems to like you, and Walnut doesn't like anyone," she said with a genuine smile. "How are they? Well, I hope they're such a wonderful family."

Athos slipped the sword back into its scabbard, took the glass, and drank the water. He looked around the room and took a deep breath. "You work for them?"

"Yes," Rose said. "For nearly forty years." She wiped her hands on her apron, more out of habit than need, and then turned to cut into a fresh loaf of bread. She buttered it, and then slathered some honey atop, and handed it to Athos. "You look awful." Instinctively she reached up to check his forehead, but stopped herself with a subtle wince when he flinched backward, and she remembered her mothering days were over. "You're feverish — your face is flushed — and you're bleeding," she glanced at his arm, the blood on his britches, and on the front of his blouse, "a lot."

"The man who uses this door —"

"Oh…" Ruth shook her head, and then said with disdain, "him." She watched Athos fold the bread and take a large bite. "He's quite the mysterious fellow — sulks around the chateau, hides in corners." She leaned forward and whispered, "I caught him once, cloaked from head to foot, standing near a window just watching the fields burn." She shook her head with a disapproving scowl, and waved her hand in exasperation. "Seems to me anyone worth their weight would have helped… but he just watched." She took a deep breath and curled her mouth into a frown. "He watched as though he enjoyed it — men of character do not take pleasure in the pain of others." She clinched her jaw and squared her shoulder. "It's simply undignified."

Athos admired her strength, but asked, "Where does he hide?"

Ruth tapped her jaw with her finger, twisted her mouth, and bit her bottom lip. "There's a room behind the library. A small study… the general only uses it to get to the back bedroom when he's not in the library. Which he rarely leaves anymore. We've been serving him his meals there… he has an injury to his shoulder." She frowned and shook her head. "I believe it's gone putrid." She leaned her ample hip against the baker's table and pressed her right hand to the surface. "But he won't let anyone treat it."

Athos frowned as he finished the bread and then wiped the honey from his fingers onto his britches. "Have you seen it… the injury?"

"I'm sorry, but no. The past day, he has been extraordinarily angry. He even threw his plate of food at Ruth. You really need to sit, young man," Rose said when Athos pressed his hand to the baker's island to steady himself. "Whatever battle you're fighting… it's not nearly as bad as the battle going on inside you at the moment."

"How can I get to that room — without entering the library?" Athos rubbed his brow, took a deep breath, and winced as pain from his injuries flared.

Rose frowned, gripped the edges of her apron, and said, "Follow me. As long as you're with me, nobody will question it. The guards are outside the library doors, and most of the soldiers have found themselves in the stables and around the grounds. Raboin has demanded they protect the chateau from being breached." She motioned for Athos to follow. She paused a moment, grabbed a cloak that hung from a hook near the door, and handed it to Athos. "Put that over your shoulders — hide the blood you're covered in."

Athos followed her from the room, down a narrow corridor, and then they entered a hall that led to the back bedrooms. She paused for a moment and looked out the window as the fighting continued.

"I never believed I would be this close to war before." Rose grabbed her skirts, clutched at the fabric, and watched smoke settle across the field below as muskets sang and matched in harmony with the roaring cannons. She swallowed, glanced at Athos, who looked out the window while flexing his jaw. "I'm grateful that other general showed up when he did… your men," she said with a long sigh, "the other captains — couldn't have made it much longer as hard as you've been fighting." She pressed onward, nodded to a house servant, who looked at her in question, glanced at Athos, but quickly continued on his way.

Rose stopped before a door that led to the bedchambers. "This is as far as I can go. Straight through this room," she motioned with her hand, "is another door that will lead to the small study that leads to the library." She watched him pull his sword, tighten his fingers around the grip, and nod.

"Get back to the kitchens," Athos said, "and stay down. Eventually," he pointed to the window that overlooked the battlefield, "that will end up in here."

Rose frowned with a nod. "Be careful," she said as she gripped his arm above his elbow. She quickly grabbed her skirts to keep her feet from tripping over the hem and ran back toward the kitchen.

Athos closed his eyes, took a deep breath as his body protested, and then grabbed the door handle.