Greetings and thank you SO much for the lovely comments.

So, dear Athos is awake at last but will he be able to tell Treville what he needs to know?

(Slightly longer chapter today as I did not want to interrupt their conversation and I really wanted to get to a specific point - of course! Can't wait to hear what you think!)

CHAPTER 50

Tréville smiled reassuringly and moved his chair closer to the bedside.

"Well now," he said. "It's good to have you back with us and, may I say, not before time." He kept his voice low, not wanting to startle Athos or to disturb the nearby sleepers.

Athos' head moved as if in a dip and he closed his eyes momentarily by way of response. He pursed his lips and ran a dry tongue over them.

"Some water?" Tréville asked.

There was the nod again.

Tréville stood. "We need to ease you over; it'll make drinking a little easier." Reaching for Athos' shoulders, he gently rolled him over to lie on his back, but it was enough to draw a pained gasp from the injured man.

"Sorry," the Captain muttered, picking up a jug that had been standing ready for the purpose and pouring water into a pewter cup. "Let's raise you a little," he suggested, slipping a hand between the pillow and Athos' head. "Not too much movement, don't want to pull on the muscles in your side now, do we?"

Athos' face suddenly clouded with confusion and Tréville wondered if he had any recollection of what had happened to him. If so, how much of the meeting near Troyes would still be in his mind?

"Just slow sips now," he instructed, holding the cup to Athos' lips and trying to mask his joy at the sight of the younger man taking some fluid, no matter how little.

Athos had only swallowed a few sips when he signalled that he had had enough by closing his eyes and giving a low grunt.

"That's a good start. More later, eh?" Tréville encouraged him, lowering his head back against the pillow and watching with satisfaction as Athos moistened his lips with his tongue.

Tréville set down the cup and leaned in close. "I'm sorry to do this to you now, but I need to ask you some questions. Can you hear me?"

As if in answer, Athos opened his eyes again and fixed his gaze upon the officer.

"We found a list concealed in your saddle. Is it naming the nobles you saw at the meeting?"

Athos blinked slowly.

"Is it a complete list?"

Another deliberately slow blink.

"Well done," Tréville praised him and lightly patted his shoulder. He was relieved that Athos was more lucid than he had at first thought but was yet to utter a coherent word.

"You made different marks against some of the names. Are they some sort of code? They meant nothing to me but are they of some significance to you?"

This time, Athos managed a definite nod. He took a deep breath, summoning up his strength to speak.

"Reminder." The word was little more than a rasping croak from the unused voice.

"A reminder to you of things when you got back here?" Tréville prompted, his heart leaping at the sound. Then he frowned, for there was no way to phrase his next question so that Athos could nod or shake his head in reply. "What kind of things?"

Athos' eyes slid shut again.

"Athos," Tréville said, a little more sharply than he wanted. "Stay with me, please. I need to know."

He hated himself for what he was doing for Athos was so weak and desperately in need of rest, but he held vital information and Tréville had to discover what that was.

Eyes fluttered open again and Tréville saw the struggle to focus.

"Men," Athos whispered. "Who's … 'portant … c'mitted." His breathing grew more pronounced as he struggled to form each word.

Tréville, more than ever, appreciated the young man's determination to deliver his report but knew that he would have to interpret the disjointed communication to make any sense of it.

"You've marked off those who are more important and involved in the plot?"

Athos nodded his confirmation and then his brow furrowed.

"Are you in any pain?" Tréville asked worriedly. "I have something here that Aramis prepared for you."

"No," Athos sighed, but then his eyes ranged over the part of the room that lay within his limited vision. "Others?"

The Captain knew that the 'others' to whom he referred were his brothers.

"They're here; you could not expect them to be anywhere else. They're sleeping. I ordered them to get some rest. It has been a long night after many long days. You gave us quite a scare."

"S'rry."

"No apologies needed. It is enough that they found you and brought you safely home to us."

There was a long pause.

"Gaston." Athos suddenly broke the silence.

Tréville straightened in his chair. "What about him?"

"Had …. a man…. there."

"We know. Gaston is at the palace and has been telling Louis his version of events," and Tréville quickly gave Athos a truncated version of what had been learned from the King's brother and the expectation that some or most of it conflicted with what Athos knew. He also explained about the discovery of the map that revealed the position of the Duc's force waiting near Versailles.

"Marks," Athos began again. "On list … men … promised …. to Gaston ….diff'rent …. numbers."

"It shows who is providing men and how many?" Tréville sought clarification. "But what are those numbers?" It was as if an icy hand gripped him. If those figures exceeded the combined force of the Musketeers and the Red Guard, the outcome could be a catastrophe for France.

"Have….to see ….list."

The original was back in the office and Richelieu held a copy that the Captain had drawn up for him.

"I will bring it with me next time," he assured Athos.

"Not all," Athos gasped out, becoming agitated in frustration. Tréville lay a hand upon his arm to calm him. "Not all …want a fight. Some …. per … pet…per." He gave up on the difficult word, a word in his extensive vocabulary that usually presented no problem. "Talk … V'sailles … King."

"Not all the nobles are keen upon fighting their King but want to petition him and talk with him. That's why they are coming to Versailles. Is that right?" The Captain was finding it easier to fill in the gaps of Athos' broken utterances.

"Gaston ….pushing."

Tréville huffed. "Why does that not surprise me?"

A thought struck the Captain. He looked swiftly around to ensure that the others were not waking and would hear him. His fingers tightened slightly around Athos' forearm.

"Were you recognised? Is that why this happened to you?"

Athos' eyes slid shut again briefly in acknowledgement. "Gaston's … man … L'Hernault."

"He did this to you?"

"No … three … men."

The effort to talk was exhausting Athos and it was becoming increasingly difficult to comprehend his breathy whispers.

"How do you know they were his men?"

"They … ad…ad." Athos gave up again and opted for something simpler. "Said."

"But why? Because you had adopted an identity? Did he think your subterfuge concealed something more serious? Sinister even?"

The sudden torrent of questions would be too much for Athos to respond to but Tréville was trying to find the reason for the violent attack that should have left the Musketeer dead. If they believed him to be a spy – which he was – why had L'Hernault not captured and interrogated him first to ascertain what he knew and gauge the threat that he presented?

"Revenge." The word was little more than a murmur but broke into the Captain's thoughts.

"Revenge?" Tréville repeated in disbelief. Of all the possible replies, this one was not what he had expected to hear and was a complication that they did not need. What was Athos embroiled in now?

"Hist'ry," Athos added.

"For something you did to him, or that he claims you did?"

"No." The denial was suddenly a clear, agonised groan, as if torn from Athos. This time, when he looked at Tréville, his eyes were filled with an indescribable misery. "My father."