Author's Note: Sorry... I get no reviews on this site, so I assume no one is read this... will update more often as I get e-mails/reviews. Meg

Siroc, Ramon and Captain Duvall stood in front of King Louis and Cardinal Mazarin. "They are not well your majesty. Laponte suffers from exhaustion, and D'artagnan is tiring out. I have sent them to D'artagnan's estate for some leave," Duvall spoke without blinking.

"This is most disturbing. Perhaps I should send my doctor to look at them?" King Louis asked Mazarin, looking quite stricken.

Duvall spoke up first, "I thank you, your majesty, but that is unnecessary. They need rest that is all." Siroc eyed Mazarin, knowing he was not buying the story.

"I shall pray for the well being on our musketeers. We need them," Mazarin said coldly.

King Louis broke into a smile. "Yes, Mazarin you will pray. That is good, I so order it done."

Duvall bowed and Siroc and Ramon waited. "I am planning a royal picnic and need the help of my musketeers…," the king stated. Mazarin bowed and walked out.

"Your grace, what is your request?" Mazarin stood looking at the man. His face and body were covered in a black cloak.

"Go to the D'artagnan estate. Check and see if D'artagnan and Laponte are there. If not, find them and follow them wherever they go. Also, send a report," Mazarin instructed carefully. "They are not to be harmed," he added.

"Your grace, consider it done. I will not fail you." The cloaked man bowed and left.

Mazarin sat down in his chair and thought. No, they were not ill. Duvall was up to something. As usual, the joke of a king was ignorant. He would discover what it was and if need be, he would stop it at all cost.

"Mi amigo, that was sloppy," Ramon complained.

Siroc was obviously not paying attention. "Sorry Ramon. I'm just worried. I don't think Mazarin bought the story."

Ramon sat his rapier down and looked at Siroc. "You are serious, no?"

Siroc nodded, "Yes, I am."

Ramon shook his head. "Mazarin will check on it, maybe send someone to D'artagnan's estate, no?"

Siroc sighed. "No doubt he will. I just hope they have gone before Mazarin's men show up."

Ramon nodded and picked his rapier back up. "King Louis wants to be entertained at his picnic; we must practice and put on a good show."

Siroc lifted his rapier. "Yes, it must look real." Ramon dodged Siroc's advance and their blades crossed in the sunlight.

A cloaked figure stood in the doorway to D'artagnan's cottage, surveying the remnants of dinner, and evidence of recent occupants. At the stables, he felt the dirt through the muddy ground. The horse tracks were only a few hours old. He could still follow them. He got on his horse and calmly, but steadily followed the tracks until they stopped at a tavern. It was late morning. He walked inside and spoke with the owner briefly and then walked back out and got back on his horse, going in the direction of Le Havre and the ship dockyard, a smile on his face…