Thank you for responses to yesterday's chapter. I wonder, is Athos being realistic to think he can succeed where his father failed? He's still angling to go to Versailles.
Tomorrow will see the departure for Versailles.
Giving you advance warning - I'm away at a writing conference/course at the weekend so there'll be no updates on Saturday and Sunday.
CHAPTER 67
I
When the rains fell on the Monday and into Tuesday morning, Tréville cursed under his breath as he thought of the roads turning to mud and the prospect of carriages and carts becoming bogged down. The Captain had allowed a very generous two and a half hours for the journey, factoring in at least one stop to enable the laden carts to catch up as the line of carriages beginning with that of the royal couple would move more quickly. If the inclement weather persisted, then the route to Versailles would inevitably be slower.
Athos' exercise had been curtailed to walking round and round the infirmary, his general demeanour as ominous as the weather but as Tuesday wore on, the rain stopped, the clouds dissipated, the sun emerged to begin drying out the terrain and he ventured round the yard's perimeter to visit Serge in his kitchen. The cook, delighted to see him, sat him at a table, declaring that he was employing the young Musketeer as his official food taster. Claude, who had been in tow for the expedition, was satisfied that he had arrived somewhere safely, nodded knowingly towards Serge and discreetly exited.
"I think this is more than a morsel to be sampling," Athos said drily as he studied the steaming bowl of stew that had just been set before him.
He was still there nearly two hours later, peeling potatoes and contentedly listening to Serge regaling him with stories of past conflicts when the Captain walked in and was greeted by the two men.
"Room for another one?" Tréville asked casually and Athos slid along the bench a little.
"I am popular today," Serge declared, slapping another bowl on the table before the Captain. "Get that down you. I'm probably right in thinkin' you've not bothered to eat since first thing."
Tréville attacked the food, swallowing several spoonsful before speaking.
"All is now set. There is nothing that remains undone. Departure from here is at nine on Thursday morning. I would prefer to be leaving earlier but there is no guarantee that the King will stir himself to be ready for ten as it is. If the weather continues to improve, the party can make good time and be at Versailles by early afternoon." He looked at Athos, pre-empting the inevitable comment about joining the group.
"Carveau comes later this afternoon to see how you are faring."
"And he will find me much improved and able to travel," Athos declared.
Serge overheard and snorted, "You don't give up, boy, do you? I'll give you that much."
Athos' eyes met Tréville's.
"I know what you're doing," the Captain announced gruffly, pushing the empty bowl away from him and standing up. "You're trying to wear me down, but I refuse to say anything until I have heard from Carveau himself."
II
"He's more determined than I gave him credit for," Carveau said later as he met with the Captain.
"Tell me something I didn't know," Tréville sighed. "You were accurate in other ways though. It has been impossible to keep him in bed or in the infirmary."
Carveau chuckled. "He is making good progress; the wound is infection-free now and healing nicely, but the stitches should not come out for another few days. His stamina level is still low. He appeared very tired when I saw him just now, but I am probably correct in guessing that is because he is pushing himself."
"He is adamant about being at Versailles," Tréville said, unwilling to explain any further.
"I still do not see how effective he thinks he can be; the journey alone is going to take its toll. However, leaving him here could be detrimental to his recovery and his state of mind, especially when he is so set on going. The decision is yours, Captain, but I suspect that trying to stop him would be about as effective as trying to stop a runaway stallion!"
III
Wednesday's weather was even better and Tréville could finally believe that the journey was going to be straightforward after all. The garrison was busy as equipment that had been inventoried and checked was finally packed into the regiment's carts. Serge had taken final deliveries of foodstuffs and had selected what was to be left for those men remaining in Paris, even as he issued Artus with last-minute instructions for he was staying too. The boy clung to every word, excited that he was being given such responsibility and eager to do his best.
The Captain left his office, reading through the list of jobs in his hand and descending the stairs to ascertain what had been completed and what was left to do.
"Captain!"
Claude was weaving his way through the crowded yard and stopped at the bottom of the stairs, breathing hard.
"I've lost him," he moaned.
Tréville did not need to ask who. He did not need this, not now, not today, not when the garrison was the scene of such organised chaos.
"Have you checked with Serge? Looked in the places he wandered to yesterday?"
"I've been everywhere an' went to the stables last,"
"And?" Tréville's heart sank as he knew what he was about to be told.
"His 'orse has gone; him with it. Bribed the boy to saddle it for 'im an' to bring a mountin' block."
Of course Athos would need help to get into the saddle.
"Did he say where he was going?"
Claude shook his head. "Want me to go out lookin' for 'im?"
Tréville contemplated the offer, his mind reeling. Part of him wanted Claude to go in pursuit, to bring back the idiot so that he could rail at him for being so selfish and causing such alarm. Just as swiftly, the anger turned to fear. Supposing Athos had over-reached himself this time and got into trouble somewhere distant from the garrison? He could have passed out anywhere and fallen from the animal. Tréville's attention abruptly turned to the archway, as if he expected a rider-less horse to appear. Athos could have left a message, written or verbal. Would it have hurt him to have told the stable boy something, anything?
Then the Captain knew. Any delay added to the risk of Athos being discovered, his intentions halted. Being on a horse was the final hurdle and Athos had to know if he could endure the long ride to Versailles. Yes, he could say to Tréville that he had proved his point, but he needed to prove it to himself first.
Tréville shook his head. "No. He has to do this. We will reconsider our options in two hours if he hasn't returned by then."
"You're thinkin' of lettin' 'im go to Versailles after all, aren't you?" Claude gasped.
IV
They did not have to wait two hours. It was thirty minutes later that Athos rode into the yard, carefully manoeuvring the animal around the working men and heading to the stables. Tréville, who was still in the yard and monitoring progress, strode over and stared up at him.
"Enjoy your ride?" he asked, trying to keep his voice devoid of censure or concern.
"Generally speaking, yes." Athos sat with a discernible lean to the right, keeping the wounded side awkwardly straight.
"Are you intending to remain up there all day?"
Athos' face was expressionless. "I had thought to dismount without an audience," he admitted.
Tréville leaned against a post and folded his arms. "Then I am sorry to disappoint you. I would see your dismount after your ride."
The stable boy hovered in the shadows and holding the mounting block but Tréville indicated to him to stay where he was.
Athos frowned, kicked his foot free from the right stirrup and tried to push up to bring his right leg over the saddle behind him. He could not help but cry out as the pain tore through him and he immediately abandoned the attempt. He sat in the saddle, head bowed, eyes shut and breathing through the agony.
It was hard but Tréville did not move as Athos clenched his teeth and tried again, this time adopting the method occasionally favoured by Porthos, that of bringing his right leg up and over the horse's head but again, his body complained violently and he groaned aloud.
Tréville straightened and bellowed out into the yard for Claude before moving to Athos' side and resting a reassuring hand on his arm.
"The pain draught has worn off," Athos moaned.
"Then we will do this another way with Claude's help." He dismissed the stable boy, aware that Athos would not want any more witnesses than necessary.
Claude arrived, taking in the situation in a heartbeat.
"To right or left?" Tréville asked. "Whichever way, it will hurt, but we will have it over and done with as quickly as possible."
"Left," Athos muttered.
Tréville looked at Claude and nodded before they both reached upwards.
"Lean towards us. Don't do anything else; we've got you and will pull you down," the Captain ordered.
It seemed to take longer than it did, but Athos was eventually standing on the ground, his knuckles white as he clung to the saddle, his forehead resting against the warm leather and agonised tears filling his eyes.
Tréville stood close, his strong arm around Athos' back keeping the young man on his feet, and his decision made.
"Perhaps," Tréville said quietly so that only Athos could hear, "you will give in now and be content to ride in the cart with Serge."