Epilogue

King Louis stood by the window and looked toward the gardens. With his hands clasped behind his back, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and allowed the rays of the sun to warm his face. Winter had been long, harsh, and dreadfully dreary. The sun's warmth was welcomed, and he admired its influence on his gardens as workers tended the hedges, the pond, and the flowers that were weeks away from blooming. The room was quiet. Even the flames of the fire were subdued as they quietly danced around the log. It was a cozy space, with a small table and chairs for four, a desk for his writings, musings, and, occasionally, his compositions. He didn't look toward the doors when they opened, instead he kept his gaze on what was to come in the months ahead, and listened to the cadence of Minister Treville's steps.

"I've often wondered what it might be like to be a soldier," Louis said. His voice sounded distant, reflective of a life he would never experience. "To live beneath the stars, to face the winds and rain when the weather turned sour… to trust the men at your side and your back… knowing they would save your life if needed."

Treville frowned, clutched at the letter in his right hand, and stood with his arms at his side. "Your Majesty?"

"I admire them," Louis said, still looking out the window. He took a deep breath, tapped his fingers together while still behind his back, and then cleared his throat. "The Musketeers… the inseparables." He looked at Treville. "I admire the trust they have for one another."

Treville twitched the corner of his mouth and nodded.

"I trust you, Minister," Louis said, "I trust them…"

"They are devoted to you, Sire… to France."

Louis swallowed, turned, and grasped the glass of wine that had been placed on the small round table next to his chair. "I wish I could experience a friendship — a brotherhood, like that," he said. "I can't even trust my own family." He took a sip of his wine, swirled his glass, and watched the burgundy liquid crawl up the sides. "I understand you have news for me?" He said and looked at Treville.

Treville nodded, clenched his jaw, and then cleared his throat. "General Vires' convoy was attacked just north of Verdun after a meeting with General Thorell… Vires was killed in the ambush."

Louis worried his brow with his right hand and then took a seat. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and cupped the glass in his palm between his fingers. "Any word on the culprits?"

Treville sighed. "I believe, Sire, that it was a band of renegade soldiers that escaped the chateau at Verdun."

"Spanish or French?"

"Unknown at this time."

"Vires was good friends with Raboin," Louis raised his eyebrows as he looked Treville in the eyes. "Do you believe there is a connection?"

"It is difficult to say at this time, Majesty, but I would not discount it."

Louis nodded, placed his glass on the table and listened to it tap the wood. He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and, bringing both hands to a point, he pressed his thumbs to his chin with his fingers over his nose. His black hair curled around his shoulders and fell along the sides of his face. "I cannot bear another treasonous general, Treville." He lowered his hands and rubbed his thumbnails. "I do not have the patience nor the fortitude for it."

Louis stood suddenly. "Who will replace him?" He muttered as he walked to his desk. "I already need to find a replacement for Raboin. Thorell cannot manage the northeastern and eastern armies without proper support… and now that Vires is gone…" he let his words hang as he looked at a portrait of his father that hung to the left of the desk. He then looked at Treville. "If the Musketeers were — more experienced, I would appoint them." He hastily crossed his arms over his chest as he tapped the floor with the ball of his shoe. "I need you here," Louis said and then rubbed his fingers along his temple.

"There is much to consider, Your Majesty, but it is manageable," Treville said. "I will work with members of your council and we will have a list of names for you to select from by the end of the week."

"I want you to assign the Musketeers to a special duty for me," Louis said as he pulled back the sides of his doublet and took a seat. He grabbed a piece of parchment, pulled his feathered quill from its holder, and uncapped the inkwell. "I want them," he dipped the quill and wrote, "to find the men who killed Vires. I want the men arrested and brought to justice. Dispatch as many groups as necessary to do it — I want Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and d'Artagnan to lead this."

Treville tightened his jaw, watched the king fold the letter and seal it, before he said, "The men are still healing, Sire. Many — including Captain Athos — will need a few more weeks of recovery."

"Two," Louis said as he stood. He walked toward Treville and handed him the letter. "Give that to Captain Athos. I want these men caught… I want them punished. We are in the middle of war and I cannot have my best military generals being murdered. We must appear strong, Minister. I will not allow France to lose her position of power in Europe. If we fail here…" he sighed and took a deep breath. "We may never recover."

"The men will need provisions, and," Treville sighed, looked at the letter and then at the king, "flexibility to do what is needed to accomplish your request."

"Whatever they need… they are the best France has to offer," Louis said as he walked to the door. "I expect my best soldiers to protect me," he turned to look at Treville, "and right now, Minister, I don't believe anyone else can do it."

The End…

Thank you everyone for joining me on this journey of 307,213 thousand words and 13 stories. We started this together back on July 26, 2022 and today, October 27, 2022 is the end of our journey. This was a lot of work, a lot of time, even more research, but a wonderful experience. (I haven't watched any TV for over a year and now I don't miss it). I appreciate all of your feedback, how much you enjoyed the stories, and your hints to what you thought was coming. Some of you guessed very well! Others, I think I surprised, but what fun it was.

Again, special thanks to MountainCat who took a lot of time editing, providing suggestions, and keeping me on track! I couldn't ask for a better editor (beta). And this wouldn't have been completed without her!

Most of my stories start with a simple scene that I want to see played out and it builds from there: The enemy recognizing Athos' eyes in Souvenirs Des Morts, his bent sword within the rocks of a river in Bent Not Broken, or Aramis hiding a hickey from Treville in Bless the Beasts and the Children. As simple as it seems, these are just a few images I have for how my stories begin.

I'm not sure when I'll be posting next. I'm always writing, but sometimes those stories shouldn't see the light of day.

Until next time...