Aramis watched Carlos during the short ride. The man was not happy. He may have enjoyed the praise he received for making the first contact with Aramis. But he did not like the Dupre's attention being diverted now.

Madame Dupre was sitting close to Aramis; their arms were touching. Carlos was sitting opposite, scowling. Aramis knew he needed to take advantage of Dupre's interest in him. She was the leader of the gang. For a woman to be in that position of power she had to be

ruthless. Aramis did not want to be on her wrong side. He knew he was already on the wrong side of Carlos, through no fault of his own.

The carriage lurched to a halt. Carlo sneered at Aramis for a second before pushing the door open and stepping out. The tilt of the carriage caused by Carlos' exit meant Aramis and Madame Dupre were thrown together. Aramis steadied his new boss who smiled at him. The look made Aramis feel self-conscious. He did not mind being objectified by women, generally, he enjoyed it. But there was something objectionable about Madame Dupre. A glint of evil in her eyes. He gathered his wits, he could not allow his dislike for the woman to affect the mission.

'Allow me,' he said, taking her hand and helping her to step down from the carriage.

The move earned him another scowl from Carlos.

They were outside one of the larger houses in an area of the city that had fallen out of favour with the wealthy. The house was starting to look in need of repair. One of the shutters on the first floor was hanging at an angle. The window it should have covered had a crack in it.

Carlos led the way up four steps to the large off-white dirty door. They stepped into a large hallway. Dust motes were caught in the lamplight, agitated by their arrival.

Madame Dupre swung off her cloak revealing a lithe body. She was wearing breeches and a frilled shirt with a pale red jerkin over the top. Her red hair appeared to be made of flames as the light of the lamps flickered.

She tossed the cloak towards one of the other men who gathered it and walked towards the back of the hall.

'Carlos,' said Madame Dupre, 'see that the main room is lit and ask that boy to make up a room for our Musketeer. He may need to stay here at some point.'

Carlos stopped a sneer spreading across his face as he nodded. He glanced at Aramis with narrowed eyes before walking away.

'I don't think Carlos likes me,' said Aramis.

'He is jealous. He loves me, but he knows I can never love him. The creature is deformed.'

Aramis had suspected the woman was shallow; now he knew she was.

'I'm scarred,' he said, pointing to the faint mark on his forehead.

She smiled and stepped closer, resting her hand on his chest.

'But that does not detract from your looks, monsieur. It enhances them.'

Aramis did not react as she lightly brushed his hair out of the way and touched his face. They looked at each other for a few seconds. Madame Dupre bit her lip and smiled with a gentle sigh.

'The room's lit,' said Carlos, from behind them, his tone curt.

The moment between them over Madame Dupre stepped away.

'To work,' she said decisively.

MMMM

The room Aramis was led to would have been a dining room when the house had been occupied for its proper purpose. But the gang had turned it into their base of operations. Plans of the Palace stretched across the dining table. Candlesticks were being used to hold the scrolls open. One wall was devoted to weaponry; the gang had amassed a small arsenal. Guns and blades nestled next to several small barrels of gunpowder. The guns were clean, at least to the standard of a good cadet.

'You are impressed?' asked Madame Dupre as she brushed passed him.

'What are you planning to do?' asked Aramis with a conspiratorial grin. 'Will you be laying siege to the Palace?'

Carlos scoffed, 'you don't need to know,' he said.

Aramis turned to him, 'but if you're not going to tell me your plan, how can I help you?' he asked with mock innocence.

Carlos took a step forward, puffing out his chest and leaning his head back to look at Aramis down his nose. Aramis was about to lay his hand on his gun before remembering that he had been disarmed.

'Boys, please,' said Madame Dupre stepping between them.

She gave Carlos a look that made him back off a couple of paces and mutter something under his breath.

'You, my Musketeer, are to tell us all you know about the guarding of the Palace. Our financier may be wealthy, and have the ear of the King - or at least he says he does - but he does not know about the security at the Palace. With some inside information from one of the Kings loyal Musketeers, we will be able to cause havoc and chaos.'

Dupre had a faraway look in her eyes as she spoke, a murderous spark. She was relishing the thought of what they were going to do.

'You're not trying to abduct the King then?' asked Aramis. 'Or attack the Palace?'

'No,' said Dupre with a shake of her head, her red hair bouncing with the move. 'The man with the money wants us to prove that the current security for the Royal family is inadequate. That is our job. Now, you and I know that the security is more than adequate. But with your help, my Musketeer, we will find the chinks in the armour and pick at them until they crack open.'

Aramis looked at Madame Dupre for a few seconds, pretending to consider the offer. He let a smile spread across his face. He nodded.

'I think I can help you with that, for the right price. If you're going to make the Musketeers and Red Guard a redundant force, I will have nothing to return to... even if I wanted to.'

He reached up to his pauldron and started to undo the strap, only to find Dupre's delicate pale hand over his. He looked at her with confusion.

'I cannot continue to walk around in uniform if I am no longer a Musketeer,' he said.

Madam Dupre tilted her head and smiled, 'but you will still be a Musketeer, dear Aramis. You will be our go-between. You will be able to get us the exact information that we need. The information that our wealthy paymaster cannot supply.'

'But I can tell you where the weak spots are,' said Aramis, a little worried at the direction the conversation was going.

He had expected to be fully accepted into the gang and effectively become a member. He would be the man who could tell them where to go around the Palace. He would be the one who could get them in via little-used entrances. But the gang appeared to want him to remain a full-time Musketeer and to report to them the information when they needed it.

'In time, you will be valuable to us here,' said Madame Dupre, 'but for now we need your ear to the ground. We need you to watch people at the Palace and tell us if anything changes. We will not be ready to strike for a couple of weeks if you were to join us now, we might not know all the detail that we need.'

Aramis would not be able to gather intelligence on the gang if he was not with them. He guessed they would want him to talk them through the Palace security and meet up over the next couple of weeks. But if he was not allowed to be a member of the gang, it would make finding out who the paymaster was a lot harder. Their plan had hit a wall, and Aramis could not see a way around or over it.

'What did you expect would happen?' asked Carlos, who was watching him with amusement. 'Did you think we would accept you with open arms? We may have been watching you for a few weeks but that don't mean we trust you. You're in our employ, Musketeer... And don't you forget it.'

Aramis watched the jealous man wander over to a table covered with pistols and straighten a few of them up. The move was meant to show power. Carlos had a room of weapons at his disposal, Aramis was unarmed.

'I'll do everything I can to help you,' said Aramis, turning his attention to Madame Dupre.

Much as he despised the idea, he knew he would have to get close to the woman. If he was going to gather intelligence and would not have free rein in the gang, he would have to find other ways to search.

Madame Dupre looked up at him again, 'so you will be our spy?'

Aramis nodded, 'I would be anything for you,' he said quietly, although not so quietly that Carlos could not hear him.

'Good,' said Madame Dupre, 'it is late. I suggest you make use of the room we have for you here before you return to your garrison in the morning. I would enjoy a fresh face around here.'

She leaned in closer as she spoke, Aramis could feel her hair brushing against him. He glanced at Carlos, who, although he had his back to them looked tense. Madame Dupre knew what she was doing. She wanted him to be interested in her; she wanted him to be easy to manipulate. Carlos knew that was what she was doing, but it did not stop the hatred the man had already mustered towards Aramis from growing.

She turned away and walked off, an exaggerated sway to her hips with each step. Aramis watched her go, wondering if he would have to sleep with her at some point. He did not like the idea of sleeping with a woman he did not find attractive.

A floorboard creaked behind him. As he turned to Carlos, he was surprised to find the man had managed to walk right up to him, probably when Dupre had been talking to him. The angry man was already mid-swing. The punch was hard, Aramis was unprepared for it. He stumbled backwards, ending up leaning over the table. Several of the plans were pushed aside by his fall. A couple of the candlesticks tipped over crashing loudly onto the table, with one rolling off to the floor.

Before he could push himself back up to stand Carlos was on him again. The man pulled him up and bunched up the leather of his doublet in his fists, pulling him close.

'You are paid by us,' spat Carlos. 'We own you. You don't get a say in anything.'

Aramis pulled at Carlos' wrists trying to get the man off him. He resorted to kicking Carlos in the shin. The move only riled the man further. A second punch, as forceful as the first, left Aramis reeling. He stumbled back and knocked into a chair before crashing to the floor. Carlos stepped forward, Aramis grabbed the fallen candlestick and scrambled up. He held the silverware in both hands ready to swing at the scarred man.

'ENOUGH!'

They both looked towards the doorway. Madame Dupre was standing with her hands on her hips and an angry scowl on her face.

'Do I need to send you both to bed as though you were petulant children?'

She stepped further into the room; her authority oozing from her.

'Carlos is correct, Monsieur Aramis, you are in our employ. And until you prove yourself worthy in one way or another, you will show him some respect.'

Aramis saw Carlos smirk with satisfaction. Aramis guessed Dupre had not seen who started the brief scuffle between the pair. Carlos had won a small victory, and he was going to make the most of it.

Madame Dupre walked up to Aramis, she looked at his face, reaching up and brushing her fingers over his cheek. Aramis winced.

'Will this prevent you from working at the Palace?' she asked with annoyance.

'Quite likely, madame,' he replied with a glance at Carlos. 'I'll probably be put on foot patrol around the city until any bruises have faded.'

Dupre glowered at her right-hand man, 'let us hope this does not cause any delay. Our paymaster will not be happy.'

It was Aramis' turn to smirk; he made sure Dupre did not see. Carlos looked suitably contrite.

'I will show you your room,' said the woman with a last glare at Carlos.

She led Aramis from the room.

Aramis was not sure if the short fight had made his situation worse or not. It highlighted to him that he had to remember his place in the gangs pecking order. But it also showed him that Carlos was thought of as a useful member of the gang. Dupre may not have been attracted to him, but she saw him as almost an equal. Carlos was not a man Aramis needed as an enemy, although he was sure it was already too late.

He wondered if Madame Dupre would want to stay with him for the night as she led him up the grand staircase. He hoped not he was sure he would end up having to sleep with her at some point. He needed to learn about the gang and doubted he would get the opportunity if his time was spent entertaining his new boss.

She led him along a wide corridor. A couple of the doors were open. He saw other men either asleep or resting in the rooms. Each room had three or four occupants. He wondered if he would have to share with other men.

'How many people have you got working for you?' he asked, trying to keep the question as innocent as possible.

'Fifteen,' she said. 'Sixteen, if I count you. There are a group of young men that Carlos found, a little gang from one of the impoverished areas. They work well together and will make useful cannon fodder if we do have to attack the Palace. Equally, they are stealthy. I have seen them at work. They are rough around the edges but malleable to our purpose. I understand you are good with a gun?'

'Yes,' replied Aramis. 'So I am told.'

'False modesty,' chuckled the lithe woman. 'You may have other uses. Some of the youngsters are not good shots. You can train them.'

Aramis wondered if he would be able to get any information out of the lowly gang members. They might have heard things during their time with Dupre and Carlos.

'There is also a boy. Carlos caught him picking his pocket. I stopped him from slitting the imps' throat. We keep him here to clean and tidy. He's actually very good. Terrified of Carlos, obviously.'

She chuckled. Aramis found her attitude distasteful.

'This will be your room when you stay here. You will be on your own...'

She pushed open the door and stepped inside. Dust and cobwebs were covering most of the surfaces, but in its prime, the room would have been elegant. The bed had been made. Aramis' weapons were laying on a side table.

'You are not our prisoner, Aramis,' said Madame Dupre. 'But you are not free to wander where you please. You may leave of your own free will in the morning. I would not like you to be late to muster. We do not want you to annoy your Captain any more than you already have.'

Aramis nodded, 'I will keep up the pretence of the loyal Musketeer for as long as you need me to, Madame, but know that I am actually loyal to you.'

He paused and smiled.

'You are paying me more, after all.'

Madame Dupre chuckled, 'I am indeed.'

She stepped closer to him and leaned into him, she slid her hand around his neck and pulled him towards her. The kiss was brief and without passion on Aramis' part. He knew he would have to do better. He hoped she had not noticed his lack of interest in her. As they stepped apart, she was smiling. She looked him up and down for a few seconds before nodding to herself.

'Sleep well, my loyal Musketeer.'

He watched her go, closing the door behind her.

He sighed. He felt drained.

After picking up his weapons, he looked around the room. The windows were locked, he would not be able to sneak out, or in, via them. He had no choice but to use the door. She had told him he was not free to wander around the house. But he did not know his way around the house, he could, at least to start with, use that as an excuse to have a look around. Although, he doubted he would find out much. The room with the maps was going to be the most useful. He decided to wait a while in the hope that the rest of the gang would retire for the night. He doubted they left anyone on guard. The house may have been abandoned, but it was still secure.

The plan was not, however, secure. The plan had not gone the way they wanted it to. He hoped the Captain would not be disappointed when he reported to the garrison the following morning. Aramis huffed out a laugh as he realised, he had managed to get into a situation where his actual bosses plan, and the woman who thought she was his boss would both be annoyed. The bruises he would have for a few days meant he could not collect information from the Palace for the gang. And the fact that the gang wanted him to remain working as a Musketeer meant he could not collect information for Treville.

But adapting the plan was always going to be a possibility. They had to work with what they had.

Aramis only hoped that he could stay out of Carlos' way long enough to win Madame Dupre properly over. He knew she was toying with him for her own amusement and, perhaps, to annoy Carlos a little. The woman was dangerous. She was powerful and wily.

As Aramis mused on his situation, he listened out for any sounds of movement. There were the usual creaks as the wood within the building moved, and the footfall of the gang making their way around. Aramis was convinced, at one point, that he heard a creak in the wall that did not fit, and sounded out of place, but decided he was imagining things. The pressure of the mission was already getting to him, and it had barely begun.

After a while, when he had not heard anything, he slipped from the room to search the rest of the house.

MMMM