Disclaimer: I don't own anything belonging to either Alexandre Dumas or his descendents.
Chapter Fourteen: Family Traditions
"Where in he blazes of hellfire have you been?" the shout was directed at the four Musketeers.
"A pleasure to see you again too Monsieur."
Trèville, Captain of the Musketeers, was a powerful man, and one used to getting his own way in all situations. He didn't like to be discomfited, but at Elizabeth's words he slumped into the chair he had previously rocketed out of.
"Lizabetae? My God is it really you? Where did you come from?"
"My mother always told me heaven." She smiled and he came around the table to wrap her in a hug that lasted for a long time.
"Lizabetae?" d'Artagnan mouthed to Porthos, who shrugged, just as confused.
"How have you been? I haven't seen you in, what? Seven- eight years?"
"Eight." Trèville gruffly replied.
She smiled sadly, "Too long. You heard I suppose?"
"About you father? Yes I'm sorry to say. Did you find out who did it?" When she nodded he perked up, "Is he dead?"
Elizabeth shook her head, "No, but I'm working on it."
Trèville smiled. "You are your father's daughter."
"I wouldn't be anyone else." She sighed. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. "But as my new friends here seem confused, I go by Elizabeth now." At Trèville's questioning look she clarified, "No one in this country could ever pronounce my name."
"Alright- Elizabeth." He gestured at his Musketeers, "Come in, and I want answers."
Athos sighed.
"And I thought we'd get away scot-free." Aramis murmured.
"You thought wrong." Trèville announced. "Now, I want to know where you've been, what you've been doing, and who you've been doing it with."
"Auvergne."
"Getting captured."
"The Count de Fère."
"Stop!" Trèville roared. When silence fell again he pointed as d'Artagnan. "Where have you been?"
D'Artagnan attempted his best 'why me?' look but replied. "We went to Auvergne to capture the imposter Count de Fère."
"But I thought that you were-" Trèville cut himself off when he realized they were in mixed company.
"Dear Lord, you people have kept my secrets for years, and now everyone decides to slip in the same day." Athos grumbled.
"It seems to be a day for secrets." Trèville announced in that annoying way people who have too much information at their disposal do.
Elizabeth remained dignified and ladylike- as dignified and ladylike as one can be when one's tongue is protruding from one's mouth that is.
"I have an instinct that we have missed a rather important exchange somewhere in here." Aramis commented.
"I'd guess so as well." D'Artagnan coughed under his breath as Elizabeth was glaring bloody murder at Aramis.
"D'Artagnan!" Trèville snapped. Once he had his attention, "And where is the imposter Count?"
This question was met with a variety of noncommittal noises from the Musketeers and Elizabeth.
"You didn't capture him?"
"Well," Athos defended them, "to say we didn't capture him is a bit… misleading. We simply had trouble keeping him."
Before Trèville could begin the tirade that was sure to follow such a statement, another Musketeer entered the tent. "Monsieur, there is a man here-"
"Tell him to wait." He ordered.
"Monsieur, he is looking for her." The Musketeer pointed at Elizabeth. At Trèville's raised eyebrow Elizabeth shrugged. "Shall I allow him entrance?"
"By all means." Trèville glanced at Elizabeth. "Any idea whom this might be?"
"A few." She replied, "But I'll wait to make a judgment."
When the blonde man entered the tent, Elizabeth shot to her feet. "Louis?"
"Louis?" Porthos spluttered.
"It seems I'm famous." The man, presumably named Louis, said. "Well?"
Elizabeth looked away from his penetrating gaze. "I haven't found you vengeance, but I have found the murderer, and I don't think you will guess who it is."
"Philippe."
"Philippe- whoa, wait a minute, how the hell do you know that!"
Louis sighed and sank heavily into a chair, seemingly oblivious to the presence of other people in the tent. "Liza, we were not all as enamored of the man as you were." When Elizabeth blushed, Louis continued, "I've always had a bad feeling about him, and after what he did to your father…"
"You mean this Philippe killed Giuliano?" Trèville demanded.
Louis raised an eyebrow but nodded.
When Trèville began to growl, Athos felt compelled to add, "And he has also been passing himself off as the Count de Fère."
"The man you captured, but not kept, in Auvergne?" Trèville seemed confused.
"Small world." Athos shrugged.
"Let me see if I have this straight. This Philippe murdered Giuliano, rounded up the factions of the Sons of the Sign, killed someone this man here knows-"
"My father." Louis supplied.
"My uncle." Elizabeth offered.
Trèville glanced at them but continued, "Escaped from my four best men, and is currently camped about sixteen leagues from here?"
"That about covers it-"
Porthos interrupted Aramis' comment when he suddenly exclaimed, "The North Road!"
The tent fell silent.
Athos coughed softly.
D'Artagnan rolled his eyes, "I've got this one." He turned to Porthos, "What about the North Road?"
"That's where I know him from." Porthos glared at Elizabeth who had the decency to blush. "Louis, did you know that your cousin introduces herself as you when she is disguising herself as a man?"
For once, Porthos had actually managed to reach a correct conclusion before the remainder of his friends. It didn't take them long to catch up.
"That first night, you introduced yourself as Louis." Athos stated rather blandly.
"When Porthos asked me for a name, it was the first to come to mind." She shrugged.
"Alright, are we all acquainted?" Trèville asked. "I assume this Louis is your cousin?" Elizabeth nodded. "Welcome to our camp, we're going to kill this Philippe."
"Good to hear."
"We aren't even going to attempt to capture him?" Aramis felt compelled to ask.
Trèville turned on him with a look that was mirrored by both Louis and Elizabeth. "This man murdered the best friend I ever had."
Aramis swallowed hard. "Just a question."
"When?" Porthos asked.
Trèville looked at the men gathered around him, "It will take us the better part of five hours to get to their camp, I don't plan on fighting a protracted battle, so the supply wagons stay here, we'll make better time. After that-"
"Monsieur Trèville." Elizabeth interrupted, "Perhaps it would be better if we made two attacks at once? The main one by your forces, and a surprise one to kill Philippe."
"After that," Trèville continued patronizingly, "you four Musketeers will infiltrate the camp and attempt to cut of the snake's head, if you will." He kind of rushed the beginning of that.
When the men gave her a communitive look, Elizabeth uttered a low, "Me dispiace."
The men waited for what they knew would soon come.
"Why are you all looking at me like that?"
The Musketeers exchanged a glance, but Louis beat them to the punch. "Hell, Liza, I heard it."
"Heard what?"
"The Musketeers will be killing Philippe, and I must say I'm none to happy about it."
Elizabeth turned on her friends. "You're not taking me?"
If she had sounded angry, the men might have been able to deny her the adventure. However, Elizabeth wasn't raised with four male cousins for nothing. Her eyes instantly welled up with tears. They immediately began to deny what had in fact been their exact intention.
"No, of course not," Trèville dissembled, "we simply didn't want to say anything since your cousin was here and we thought he might object to you being… put in harms way."
"So we will both be coming, Louis and I?"
"Certainly."
Neither Elizabeth nor Louis bought a word of it, but neither said anything about it.
"When will we stage this attack?" Aramis asked
"Philippe only returned to his camp today." Athos mused. "It will take at least a day to garner his forces and organize a move."
Trèville raised an eyebrow. "Tomorrow sound good?"
The Musketeers grinned wolfishly.
"I like the sound of it." D'Artagnan offered.
"We will leave here at sunset and stage a night attack. Jean!" Trèville called. A Musketeer entered the tent, "Warn the men to get as much sleep as possible tonight and well into tomorrow, we'll be leaving here at sunset." Jean bowed his way out.
"Anything else anyone can think of? No? Alright, get some sleep, I'll see you all back here two hours before sunset. Ask Jean to have some tents set up for you."
Elizabeth looked at her cousin but he shook his head, "I wish to stay and talk with Monsieur Trèville." At Trèville's nod, she left. Porthos and d'Artagnan were already speaking with Jean. She looked around, but no one seemed to want her attention for a bit so she stretched. A good long one that pulled a moan of satisfaction from her lips. She'd needed that for over a month. From the haggard looks on her friends' faces, they all did.
"Elizabeth." She turned to see Gustav trying to get her attention. She smiled at him. "I gathered these before we left Auvergne. I'd forgotten about them, but when that man, Planchet, searched the wagon, he found them and thought they were mine." Gustav held out Elizabeth's knives to her.
Her smile could have lit a room. "Thank you Gustav, that was thoughtful of you."
"Is it true that we will attack the Count- I mean Philippe's camp tomorrow?"
She nodded, "Tomorrow night."
"May I come?"
"Of course you may."
Gustav smiled and walked away into the camp.
"Do you think that was wise?"
Elizabeth stiffened at the sound of Athos' voice. "He has proven himself, don't you think?"
"He was one of Philippe trusted guards." Athos pointed out.
"He deserves a second chance."
"Do I?"
Elizabeth realized he had been fishing for that answer the entire time. She sighed softly and finally turned around to face him, slipping her knives into her belt. "Philippe can be quite… convincing when he sets out to be. I know that, I've fallen for his charm as well. But you…" she stopped. "You hurt me Athos. More than I ever care to admit"
"A chance to explain then?" Athos asked. "Give me a second chance. Tonight, before everything goes to hell tomorrow."
Elizabeth took a deep breath.
Athos held out a hand.
She took it.