Thank you to all who have read and commented upon the last chapter. Words are creeping up again - this is 1077 and has gone through two major rewrites!
So, are the boys any closer to finding Athos?
Chapter 38
Colour drained from Aramis' face as the innkeeper's words registered.
"Was he sick or injured? What did they say?" he demanded.
"Nothing," Dupuis answered nervously for he could not miss the change that had come over all three men who now surrounded him. There was no joviality nor even intense anger, but he could see in them an urgency and near panic.
"They must have said something," d'Artagnan insisted, speaking to the innkeeper for the first time.
Dupuis shook his head. "No, I swear it, not in so many words, but I think he must have been injured."
"Go on," Aramis prompted.
"Well, the lay brothers were giving out his clothes or some of them. Old Guillaume got his boots. Nice soft leather, he said, although they were a bit big for him. There was a nice pair of breeches, but they were too good and fancy for round here, although there was a good woollen cloak that'd do someone some good."
"That doesn't explain why you should think he was injured." A note of irritation was creeping into d'Artagnan's voice.
"Stands to reason, doesn't it? He must've been wearing some sort of shirt an' doublet. Why not give them away too? They must've been damaged in some way an' maybe bloodstained."
"You 'ave an over-active imagination," Porthos said.
"And you're sure the lay brothers said nothing about the nature of his injuries?" Aramis pressed, desperate to find out all that he could.
Dupuis merely looked at him in confusion. "I've told you all I know, I swear it."
"And it's not much," Porthos grumbled.
"It's enough," Aramis remonstrated. "Put it all together, along with the blood on the horse. Athos is at the monastery, injured, and we need to get to him quickly."
He tried to dispel the fears that clouded his mind. If Athos were that badly hurt the previous morning that his survival was in doubt, they might already be too late.
"Well, we won't know standin' round here," Porthos declared. He looked at Dupuis. "You say the building is to the south?"
"Yes, stay on this road and you can't miss it. It's set in a clearing to the right.
Aramis slapped the wall with the flat of his hand causing Dupuis to flinch.
"d'Artagnan, re-saddle the horses, including Athos' one; we're restoring him to his rightful owner. Porthos, collect our things from the inn. Do the lay brothers own a horse and cart?" This last he directed at Dupuis who shook his head vehemently.
Aramis took out his money purse, fumbled for some coins and pressed them into Dupuis' hand. "There's for your trouble with the food and information, Georges. Now I need you to get a horse and cart?"
"Where from?" Dupuis asked.
"I don't know!" Aramis exclaimed. "Just find one. Someone in this village must have one to move things around. You do that for us and there'll be more for you and for the person who supplies the cart. You must also get Athos' boots back."
"Athos?" Dupuis seemed overwhelmed by the tasks assigned to him.
"Our friend," Porthos growled.
"Gentlemen," Aramis said decisively to his companions, "let's go and get our brother."
With renewed purpose, they were on the road within fifteen minutes. The night was unseasonably cold after the storm but at least it had not started raining again for no man wanted to wear a sodden cloak. The wind had dropped and the clouds had dissipated, revealing a half moon and a scattering of stars but not enough to light their way so Porthos and d'Artagnan carried a flaming torch each whilst Aramis led Athos' horse. The animal might have been awkward and wary of strangers, but he knew these men and followed them quietly and willingly.
It was almost a mile to the monastery. That was close enough to trade and share in supplies and to render help to the villagers when necessary but also gave a suggestion of isolation so desired by those who believed their calling was for the religious life. Stout, wooden, double doors set into the surrounding high wall were firmly shut to the world at this hour.
Aramis dismounted and hammered on them repeatedly.
Suddenly, a small square in the centre of one of the nail-studded doors opened to reveal part of a ghostly face, illuminated by a small lantern.
"Yes?" The voice was that of an old man and a nervous one.
"I am Aramis of the King's Musketeers. My companions and I have heard that you took in a rider two nights ago and we wish to see him for we believe him to be another Musketeer, our friend."
"We had a rider, yes, but he was not a Musketeer. He did not wear the insignia," the man said.
"I know. He was not in uniform, but he was about the King's business. Please, let us in."
The man turned away and Aramis craned his neck to peer through the aperture but although he could still see light from the lantern, the lay brother had gone from his range of vision. There was an exchange in muted tones; someone else had arrived.
Suddenly, there came the sound of bars being slid back and the two big doors opened, a curious face peering around each one A third man stood in the middle of the opening preventing Aramis and the others from entering.
"You say you seek a friend. Describe him."
Aramis frowned, expecting the first words to be an invitation within the walls and some hospitality but then he reminded himself that these men had not taken final vows and probably never had that intention. They were understandably suspicious. He sighed.
"About my height and age, slim, dark hair, green eyes and …"
"He is not here," interrupted the third man.
Aramis saw the startled expression flicker across the old man's face. So he had not been anticipating such a bare-faced lie then.
The Musketeer thought for a moment. "So be it but please, we prevail upon you for shelter for the night. We have been in the saddle since dawn searching for our friend and soaked by the rain. We are cold and hungry. Just a few hours' respite is all we need and then we will be on our way again."
The man considered the request and eventually, warily, he stood to one side and, with a nod of the head, bade them enter.