Chapter 7

Porthos leaned against the hindquarters of his horse and crossed his arms over the gelding's rump. The bay shifted his feet to accommodate the weight, but kept his head down while standing next to the hitch. The early morning sun cast its light against the buildings, across the grounds and reflected off the tile roofings. Porthos looked at the short stack of letters he held, all written by Athos, and all were ready to be delivered.

D'Artagnan leaned against the support railing with his arms crossed and his right knee bent. He looked at the water trough and the dust that floated alongside the sprigs of hay. They could hear the footsteps of musketeers moving around their quarters, within the infirmary, and the armory. Men were still healing, a few had ventured outside for fresh air, and others were still confined to their beds.

Aramis, with a handful of straw, ran it over his horse's rump and then tossed it to the ground before he grabbed the saddle blanket and tossed it over the black's back. "Levi and Marc left early this morning," he said, and then reached for the saddle. "They decided to go together to notify the families of their companies." He pushed the cinch from the back of the saddle and allowed it to fall and swing at his horse's side. Aramis paused a moment, rested an elbow on the seat, and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked at Porthos and then at d'Artagnan. "It's not a bad idea… going together. Telling these families what happened… delivering pauldrons…" he exhaled and then rubbed his face. "It's going to be difficult."

D'Artagnan looked at Porthos, who nodded and said, "At least Athos made the request… it would 'ave been too much for one man to do alone."

Aramis bent forward, reached below the horse's girth, and grabbed the cinch. "The war is far from over." He looped the leather strap through the girth hoop and tightened it. His horse shifted. "He's supposed to meet with the king…" he looked over the saddle, "I assume to find more men."

"Already?" d'Artagnan shifted and looked toward his quarters. He ran his hand over his face and sighed. "Leaving the second time will be more difficult than it was the first."

Porthos chuckled and nodded. "You have a son to worry about now." He gently slapped his horse's hindquarters and then released the slipknot. He turned as Athos descended the staircase and Mathias stepped from the stables with Kelpie saddled and bridled.

"Oh hell," d'Artagnan said and pushed himself off the beam. He subtly pointed toward the archway as Nicolet walked beneath it. She grasped her heavy skirts with her right hand and clung to her shawl with her left. Gray hairs frayed from the coil at the base of her head, and her eyes searched the garrison for her grandson, Billy.

D'Artagnan took a step forward but was pulled back by Aramis, who had stepped around his horse and shook his head. "Don't," he said, and looked d'Artagnan in the eyes."It's not your place."

Athos turned when Mathias tilted his head toward the garrison's entry. Athos handed the stack of letters to Mathias, who took them and then stepped away with Kelpie.

Nicolet clutched at the fabrics of her skirts, looked at Athos, then at the horses being prepared by several musketeers, and even the wounded who had been standing on the balcony. The men looked at her and then quietly returned to their quarters. She collected her breath, smiled toward Athos, and then released her skirts.

"Where's Billy?" Nicolet said with excitement. "When I returned home this morning, I was informed the Musketeers had returned." Her smile grew in size. "It's so good to have you back — I've missed you all." She looked around the garrison once more and then looked at Athos, who stepped toward her. "Where's my grandson, Captain Athos?" She frowned, her smile faded, and she looked more closely at the man before her. Her heart suddenly hurt, and she looked at the grief written in Athos' eyes.

"Perhaps we can talk in my office —"

"Where is he?" Nicolet asked in a tone that anticipated the answer but pleaded for something different. She could feel her eyes water, her nose burn, and her chest suddenly ached. "He was supposed to just help with the horses… just the horses." This was not what she expected to discover. "Please, Athos," she said with a forced smile akin to hope, but her eyes knew what was coming. "Where is he?" She looked past Athos, at the faces of those who already knew the answer, and clutched at the fabric of her dress.

"He didn't make it—"

The slap to his face came out of nowhere, but Athos closed his eyes, clinched his jaw, and then looked at the woman who stood before him. Her face was stern, her nose flared, and she met his eyes with a look of determination and resentment. The look of a woman overly familiar with loss, with grief, and anguish. When he didn't respond, she slapped him again.

"Please," she said and placed her hand on her side below her breast. "You don't mean it." Athos looked away to allow the sting to mellow and when he looked at her again, he saw her tears fall, her lips part, and she clutched at her shawl with her hand that tightened and relaxed with the pulsing of her heart.

"He was all I had left," Nicolet said. She hitched her breath, and looked again around the garrison, hoping above all else that Billy was there. She wanted to see him come running from the stables. She wanted to feel his arms around her ample waist, and she wanted to hear him speak of his adventures. "He was all I had left." Nicolet looked again at Athos. "Every one else is gone… they're all gone… my family is gone." She parted her lips to catch her breath. "They're all gone." She looked at Athos as the tears ran down her face, as she sniffled and cried, and then titled her head to the left and said, "I'm sorry…" She clutched her fingers as she brought her hand slowly to his face. He stood strong, and she admired him for it. "I'm so sorry." She placed her hand on the cheek she had slapped and then suddenly pulled him close. "Tell me he didn't suffer."

Athos wrapped his left arm around her and placed his right on her arm. "He died bravely… thinking of you." He felt her choked sobs against him, the hitching of her breaths, and the whispers of apology. Athos looked toward the barracks and watched Constance, with her son in her arms, walk toward d'Artagnan and hand him his son.

Athos hitched his breath and winced when he felt his rib protest when Nicolet's knees went weak. He held her securely, but felt his healing body protest to the sudden weight.

"Nicolet," Constance said, and draped her arm over the back of the old woman's shoulders. "Come with me," she said softly and ran her hand along Nicolet's arm. "Please."

Nicolet slowly released her hold. She looked at Athos sympathetically and allowed Constance to take her to her quarters.

Athos pressed his hand to his side and braced his other against his knee as he took several breaths.

Aramis slipped between two horses, walked to Athos and gripped his arm and helped him stand. "Are you alright?" He asked and pressed his hand to where Athos held his own.

Athos nodded and then slowly exhaled. "I just twinged it."

Aramis shook his head, and with his hand still on Athos' arm, he said, "You don't twinge a broken rib, Athos. Move your hand."

Athos did as instructed and winced as Aramis poked and prodded. "Satisfied?" His breathing eased, and the pain subsided.

Aramis took a deep breath and stepped back. "Yes, but I'll be traveling with you." He turned and looked at d'Artagnan and Porthos, who both nodded. "It will be better if we travel in pairs… this kind of duty," he looked at Athos with a look of despair, "should not be done alone." He motioned toward Mathias to lead Kelpie toward them and then took the reins. "We'll do this together… it's too much for anyone to do alone. Even you."

Athos looked Aramis in the eyes and slowly consented. He looked over Aramis' shoulder and watched d'Artagnan take his son inside and Porthos, who saddled his horse. "Labarr went to notify Jacques' sister."

Aramis nodded. "Good," he said and watched Mathias lead Kelpie toward them. "That's good… he'll do a fine job, and he knows her… this kind of news should come from him."

Athos shifted and slipped his foot into the stirrup. He grunted, and felt Aramis shove him upward and he slipped into the saddle. Kelpie tossed his head, flapped his lips, and perked his ears forward and watched an apple cart be pushed down the street.

Aramis tossed the reins over his horse's neck, and then quickly mounted. He looked at Porthos and said, "We're going to need drinks tonight."

Porthos nodded and said, "Be careful."

Aramis followed Athos beneath the archway.