Greetings from Laughlin, on this Veterans Day.

How you are all well. Many thanks for the reviews and readers. Great to hear from old friends again. Responding to each of you will be easier once home but I seriously appreciate the time you take to comment.

So, what happens next?

CHAPTER 30

I

It was gone three in the morning when Tréville stretched out on his bed and tried to sleep. He had only paused to remove his boots and doublet and lay there restlessly turning, his mind full of plans and the August night uncomfortably hot. There was time for a short nap if only his over-active mind would give him any respite. He had left instructions with Serge to be roused at six should he slip into a deeper sleep. There was no need for the men to be aware that he might have still been in his bed when they began to stir for the first meal of the day and the old cook was always up at five without any assistance himself; it had been his way for as long as Tréville had known him.

Discussions with Richelieu had gone on until after one o'clock as they planned what to do about Allaire and de Mayenne. The major decision was whether or not one or both men should be taken into custody that morning and questioned 'intensively' – Richelieu's word, not Treville's, who would rather not know the methods involved in the Cardinal's 'intensive' questioning.

Eventually, they decided against picking up either of the men because they still did not want to alert Gaston. There were other actions that could be taken instead.

The hope was that Allaire would meet with his contact again. As Porthos had been noted and was suspected of following, d'Artagnan would be assigned to the task and the contact would be the one who was apprehended. De Mayenne was correct in assuming that he was not on the Versailles guest list so he would be arrested as soon as the royal party had departed for the hunting lodge to prevent him from having any further association with other plotters. He would be delivered to Richelieu and the interrogation would commence.

Tréville communicated all of this and more to the three friends once they had returned to the garrison and then they also retired for what remained of the short night.

In the darkness, Tréville was reminded that it was just over a week since Athos had lain in the same spot in an easy slumber. How was the Musketeer faring? Had he even reached Troyes? Had he managed to gain entry to the meeting that was to be held within a few short hours? Would he be safely on his return journey before the day was out?

As he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep, Tréville continued to ponder the unknowns.

Then he recalled the unsavoury task that he and Richelieu were undertaking together later that morning. They were going to have to tell the King of his brother's new treachery.

II

"How dare he! Why is he still walking about in my palace? Why didn't you throw him in the chatelet the moment you found out about this, Richelieu? What a fool I must appear in his eyes! He is plotting this and there was I, welcoming him with open arms, having him seated at my side during a banquet I held in his honour and all the time he was laughing at me behind my back. How could you let him do this, Tréville?"

The screaming, near-hysterical tirade had been going on behind closed doors for more than ten minutes, despite the combined efforts of the Queen, Cardinal and Captain to placate His Majesty.

He was, at this point, beyond reason and Tréville could sympathise with him a little. The man had placed all his hope in the fact that Gaston had indeed reformed and the two could continue amicably in their lives, the way brothers should behave towards each other, yet here was Gaston, the master of deceit and jealousy, plotting with others against the King of France yet again. It had to be a major disappointment.

The concern, though, was that someone, namely Gaston, might hear this unprecedented outburst and would grow suspicious, or even ask questions as to what had occasioned it. This was lasting far longer than his usual temper tantrums.

Richelieu decided to wait out the emotional explosion; the King would tire eventually and then they would be able to discuss the situation properly.

At length, Louis ceased stomping around the room, curtailed his wild gesticulations and refrained from shouting out ever more colourful - and painful - methods of punishment he wished to be administered to his brother.

Eventually he started to listen.

Richelieu and Tréville outlined the plans they had spent the early part of the night deliberating and their reasons for pursuing those actions.

The King's eyes narrowed dangerously. Petulant and childlike he might be on occasions, but he was no imbecile.

"I love to hunt, Cardinal, but I dislike intensely the idea of being the bait," he announced in clipped tones, having quickly realised what Richelieu's intentions were.

"It is imperative, Sire, that we apprehend all malcontents involved in this, especially those in direct association with your brother," Richelieu explained patiently, and not for the first time. "That is the sole reason why we are not making obvious moves immediately. Gaston will have his information from the meeting and he will want to tell you part of it. Unbeknownst to him, however, we will have had our own man present who will attest to what is true, that which is false and, we trust, a whole lot more besides. Gaston must not know what we are about just yet."

Louis sank into a chair and thought over what had been said.

"So you wish for me to play a part, that of the loving, all-forgiving brother? I am to pretend that I trust Gaston implicitly, as if accepting all his lies for he must not know, at least not right now, that I want him locked up in the deepest cell in the chatelet and the key thrown into the river."

That was a new sanction and several steps removed from the extreme violence he had been contemplating only minutes earlier. He had been quite creative and, in a moment of distraction, Tréville hoped that the suggestions would not give Richelieu ideas! He suppressed the chuckle that was rising and wondered in horror if lack of restful sleep was making him hysterical in turn.

He and the Cardinal exchanged wary glances as Louis fell silent once more.

Suddenly he brightened and clapped his hands together – generally a bad sign.

"Of course I shall pretend to be that which I am not. If my valiant Musketeer can succeed in doing it, then so can I."

The irony was not lost on Tréville or Richelieu, though neither man was in a position to share it.

Athos was not playing a part. Yes, he had an assumed name but he was being every inch the aristocrat that he was born to be.