Constance
She could not stop glancing behind her, past the musketeers who were their rear guard. Each time, she hoped to see her boys riding towards them. But only a muddy, empty road lay behind them. She fought back the tears that threatened to fill her eyes.
"They will join us at the estate," Etienne murmured reassuringly. He was riding next to her. The Queen lay in his arms, wrapped in several of the musketeers' blue cloaks. So far, Anne had yet to truly regain consciousness. Constance was not sure how much of the Queen's stupor was actually due to the drug. She suspected that the young woman's mind sought sleep in order to escape reality.
Anne's life had been difficult at times, but nothing had prepared her for this type of violence. To be honest, she had never been prepared for any kind of physical violence. After all, she had the royal guard to protect her...she had the Musketeers.
But how can you ever really be prepared for a rape?
Constance knew that the first priority when Anne regained consciousness would be to create a good plan. Unfortunately, rescuing the young queen from the bandits' hands did not guarantee her safety. The situation could easily become dire for her.
Men rape women in our society all too frequently, and most get away with it. But for a woman who has been sexually assaulted, there is no place for her other than in a convent-or on the street.
While a queen would not be thrown onto the street, banishment to a convent was more than likely...and Constance was sure that Anne would not survive long once separated from her son-and her beloved musketeer.
Furthermore, Constance knew that the stakes were much higher than the happiness-or even the life-of her royal friend.
Anne suddenly started to struggle, and Etienne attempted to calm her. "Hush."His voice was not stern, but it was unmistakably male. The Queen began to panic, thrashing in his arms.
"Stop!" Constance ordered. She dismounted in a flash, and went to the side of her Queen.
"Anne, I'm here with you," she said softly.
The Queen appeared not to hear her, and cried out, "Let me go!"
Constance looked up at Etienne, and nodded. He carefully loosened his grip, and allowed the Queen to slip straight into Constance's arms.
"Anne, you are safe," whispered the redhead.
The shivering Queen clung to her desperately.
The women stood for a long moment, their arms wrapped around each other.
Etienne glanced around them nervously."Constance, we need to go."
"Anne will ride with me," Constance said decisively. Her friend did not protest, and her silent acceptance made Constance uneasy. They rode together. Despite being wrapped in several cloaks, the Queen was trembling. She refused any food or water. Her pupils were still huge, but it was difficult to say if this was caused by the drug or the dim light… or possibly by fear. Constance could not help but notice that whenever they stopped, her friend kept her eyes trained on the musketeers.
After a time, Anne seemed to become more lucid. Constance wrapped her arms around the young monarch, murmuring a few reassuring words.
"You're safe, Anne," she said soothingly.
"No. I'm not," the Queen replied bitterly, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I'm finished."
"You are no such thing," Constance told her firmly. "There's no denying that we have failed you. But we haven't deserted you, and we'll stay by your side as long as you wish."
"We?" Anne seemed to be desperate to focus on facts and plans, not on her emotions.
The Queen looked around, clearly searching for Aramis and his brothers. Her lip trembled when she did not see them.
"Where are they?" Her voice was tremulous, but there was no mistaking the demanding note in her voice.
"They have been delayed," Constance murmured.
"Constance! I want the truth!" Anne hissed. Her eyes were full of fury and despair.
"I need to know…" she added, her voice now pleading.
The redhead looked at her for a moment.
Do you really need to know?
Then it struck her - what Anne needed was to regain control of her life-the control which had been taken away from her so brutally.
"Porthos was injured, and Aramis stayed with him. The others went back to look for them. That's all I know."
Anne nodded slowly, and Constance said, "We really need to go now."
Blue eyes full of despair met hers.
"Where?"
Constance felt her heart sink. The Queen sounded so lost!
"To the estate-the one you so generously gave us permission to use while the injured musketeers recover. The others will join us there, and we will come with a good plan."
Anne shook her head. "I don't know if I will ever be able to trust anyone again."
She was silent for a moment, then spoke, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Did you know he was my friend? Before I ever came to Paris? When I was just a young Spanish princess, he taught me about France-about what to expect at court. He prepared me for life in Paris….he…. "
Anne choked back a sob, then continued. "I treated him like my older brother. Philippe-my real older brother-never had any time for me. Then he just disappeared one day-only to come back and… take me."
Constance was shaken to her core by her friend's words "Are you referring to Rochefort?!"
Anne continued on, her voice dull. "The worst part of all is that my husband will believe anything Rochefort tells him. But was the Comte always so cruel and possessive? Or did the time he spent in a Spanish prison change him? I want to believe that he was warped by the time he spent behind bars, but if that is true… did Allancourt's men transform Aramis into a cruel beast? Is the Aramis I loved dead to me?" Her voice was now barely audible. " Athos has as much as told me so."
"Aramis would never hurt you, Anne," Constance replied gently. Her words were soothing and calm, but her friend's doubts broke her heart.
"I am not sure if I can believe that anymore," the Queen said sadly. She dried her eyes, then looked up at Constance. "I suppose we should go, shouldn't we?"
Constance looked at her awkwardly. There was one very important question that she had to ask. She really had no desire to have this conversation now, but time was against them.
"Anne… Forgive me, but I must ask you something. I know this is terribly personal, but do you think you may have been pregnant… before?"
"No." The Queen appeared puzzled for an instant. Then wild panic appeared in her eyes. "My God! That possibility never even occurred to me!"
"It did to me," the redhead whispered. "But don't despair. I have some herbs. I was warned they may have some nasty side effects… but they should… help."
"Give them to me-now!" Anne ordered tearfully, "I cannot..."
As her voice trailed off, her wide eyes met Constance's. Disgust and trepidation were clear on her pale, bruised face.
The redhead nodded. She reached into her pocket and took out a small bottle securely wrapped in cloth. She unwrapped it, then uncorked it with her teeth.
She handed it to Anne. "No more than five sips."
The Queen brought the bottle to her lips, following the instructions to the letter.
"Keep the rest. If you think it necessary, take a second dose-but make sure someone is with you. I hope I will be allowed to stay with you."
Anne nodded absentmindedly.
Etienne approached, and bowed to the two women.
"Your Majesty, we should go.'
They were soon on their way. Anne rode with Constance. The redhead found her thoughts wandering.
I wish I knew how to help you. First, we must get rid of Rochefort.
Am I already planning a murder? It seems so. But he has to be stopped.
I hope Treville will have a good plan...I hope he has recovered.
Where are my musketeers?! I need them!
Constance's anxiety grew with each hour that Athos and the others failed to return. Their delay was surely a bad sign. Perhaps they had been captured, or badly wounded during their rescue mission. They might have failed on an initial attempt, and be waiting for an opportunity to strike again. Constance desperately tried not to think about the worst possibility, but a sudden spike of fear pierced her heart,
What if they were dead? What if she had to face the world alone from now on?
No! I cannot think like that! I have to take care of the Queen. Especially now that the situation may be too challenging for Aramis.
If he ever returns…
Constance remembered all too vividly the horrible hours in Fontainebleau when Aramis had pleaded for death to take him. His only desire had been to rejoin the brother he was convinced he had killed. If Porthos had indeed died, Aramis would have surely followed him. His forbidden love for Anne would not have been enough to keep him alive.
Finally, they entered the gardens surrounding the estate. The property looked abandoned. Not a ray of light could be seen through the thick curtains.
"It's empty," Anne whispered, bitterly disappointment.
"No, it's not," the redhead replied. She forced herself to try to stay calm, even as her heart started to beat wildly.
It shouldn't be.
The distance to the building seemed endless. They rode for an eternity before Etienne shouted out a plea for any occupants to hold their fire.
"Identify yourself!" came the reply.
The musketeers' lieutenant answered tersely, "Etienne!"
Constance saw that most of the men had their hands on their weapons.
"Christian here. Come in!"
The men relaxed when they heard the reply.
Constance helped Anne dismount. She left the care of her horse to the musketeers, and led the Queen into the estate. She decided to take Anne to the room she had shared with d'Artagnan. There was a large bathtub there, as well as some spare clothes.
Christian greeted them on the stairs, musket in hand. Constance put a hand on his arm. "I need some hot water, and a medical kit."
When he realized that the swaying figure supported by Constance was his Queen, the musketeer bowed, his eyes full of concern.
"I will arrange for it straightaway, Madame. The Captain has asked a report from Athos and his men, and he would like a report from you as well."
"Tell him I will be… delayed. I will report to him just as soon as Her Majesty is settled comfortably. She is unwell, and needs my help right now."
"Shall I send for Vimaire to attend her?"
"Thank you, but that's not necessary."
She did not want any man to touch Anne. Her trauma was still too raw-too fresh.
She took Anne to the small room adjoining d'Artagnan's, which had been assigned to Constance. The bed was untouched, as she had spent the nights in her lover's bed.
If you get yourself killed, I'll beat you to death all over again...
Constance pushed her fears to the side, and briskly started to prepare a bath for Anne. One of the men had already brought her everything that she needed.
Anne sat motionless on the bed.
"Who is the Captain now?" she asked, her voice tense.
"Treville, as always," Constance replied reassuringly. She could not imagine anyone else as the leader of the musketeers. "He was seriously wounded, but he managed to make it here to the estate. That's how we knew you had been taken."
The Queen met her eyes. "Constance, I want to be a part of this. I will not be regarded as a damaged thing that has nothing to say." The order was cold, but an undercurrent of desperation ran through her words.
The redhead returned her gaze with compassion. She understood that Anne needed to feel like a person-not an object which has been in turns protected, kidnapped, and used.
In fact, Constance thought, Anne has been treated like a commodity her entire life.
First the young Spanish princess had been betrothed to achieve peace between two warring countries. Her mission as Queen of France was to give the King an heir. Now she had been abused by a madman-a man who had befriended her as a girl, then treated her like his possession when he had no right to her.
Constance helped Anne wash. Then she put some of Aramis' salve on the bruises that covered parts of her body. In a modest, simple dress, Anne looked like a lost little girl.
Minutes later, Constance and Anne went to see the Captain. The redhead knocked softly on the door.
"Enter!" Treville ordered.
They came into the room. The Captain was lying on the bed, propped up by several pillows. Etienne stood next to the bed. He had probably been giving his report.
"Your Majesty!" Treville tried to lift himself up.
"Lie down!" she ordered, her voice trembling a bit. "You must not injure yourself, Captain."
Etienne shifted uncomfortably. "I can come back later to finish my report."
Anne lifted her chin. "No. You will finish your report now."
The musketeer obeyed. Once he had finished, he bowed, then took his leave.
The Queen approached the bed, her eyes softening.
"Captain. It's good to see you alive, and on the road to recovery."
"Your Majesty, I am relieved to see you safe."
"I am not safe." Anne's voice broke, and she struggled to regain her composure. "Rochefort was behind my kidnapping.-and I believe he escaped when your men rescued me." She shivered, and Constance took her hand. The Queen took in a breath, then continued.
"I am afraid he is on his way to Paris. He wants to get to to the King first in order to compromise me. He is going to accuse me of attempting to leave France and seek shelter in Spain. According to him, I was ready to sell French secrets to my brother in exchange for being given a peaceful estate to live out the rest of my life in comfort. He also intends to question my fidelity to my husband." She paused, clearly unable to speak any further.
"Has he any cause to make such accusations?" Treville asked gravely.
Anne looked at him in shock.
Treville's steely blue eyes met the Queen's. When he spoke, his voice was firm.
"Your Majesty, please forgive me, but I need to know the truth before I endanger the lives of my men."
Anne gasped. Her fingers squeezed Constance's hand, and she took in a deep breath.
"I would never seek shelter in Spain," she said steadfastly. "Nor would I compromise the safety of France in order to gain security for myself."
An instant later, the fierce light in her eyes dimmed, and she swallowed.
"Rochefort…he is a monster. He drugged me against my will, then forced me to lay with him. He is the traitor, not me!" Her wide eyes begged the Captain to believe her.
Treville went deathly pale, and appeared shaken.
"Please tell me I have heard you incorrectly."
"You have not. I must be open with you, Captain. You are considering betraying your King in order to help me, so you deserve to know everything. Louis' trust in Rochefort is unshakable, and no words will change his mind. As far as my fidelity-" she hesitated, and lowered her eyes. "I have betrayed my husband only once."
Treville looked surprised for an instant, then understanding flickered in his eyes.
"Do I need to know with whom?" he asked.
Constance wondered if he had already guessed the truth. Perhaps he wanted to know just how much the identity of the Queen's lover might complicate the situation.
"I am afraid you do...but you must know that I seduced him. I did it because I loved him-and because if I remained childless, I was sure to die… sooner or later. I needed a child to survive."
"So Aramis is Dauphin's father?" the Captain whispered.
Anne nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "Please do not punish him!"
She dropped to her knees. "If you wish for me to disappear, I will do so. I only ask for an escort to guide me to the nearest border."
Constance knelt next to her, and put her arms around her friend. Both women held their breath as they awaited Treville's reply.
If the Inseparables are alive, they will follow you if you leave. Then you will be finally with Aramis, and I can be with d'Artagnan. We will start a new life somewhere else. It all depends on Treville's decision.
Despite her thoughts, Constance knew that life in exile would be very difficult-but she doubted that the Captain would force Anne to face a trial.
Treville sighed heavily, then reached for the Queen's hand, raising her up.
When he spoke, his voice was solemn.
"As long as you remain loyal to France, I will stay by your side, your Majesty."