Greetings. Thank you for reading and commenting; I love hearing from you as I'm home alone! Wild expedition to the supermarket scheduled for tomorrow - 2nd time out in 2-5 weeks! So I'm enjoying the escapism that this site affords me and all your company! I dare say there are many of us in the same boat but my thoughts are with those of you who are in the medical profession, caring for others in some way or have loved ones involved. 'Thank you' is not enough for what you are doing. Stay safe!

I would say 'now onto lighter things' but there's little that is 'light' as this story continues to unfold. Enjoy! Until tomorrow ...

CHAPTER 78

I

Athos was surprised at how quickly the morning passed. He wrote a message for the Musketeer camp for someone to wait upon him to receive the orders designated to the men who were still around the lodge.

He was even more pleasantly surprised when, minutes later, Claude knocked at the door and walked in.

"My missive could not have reached the camp in that short time," Athos observed.

Claude grinned back. "No, I was waitin' down the corridor. Captain had me on duty there in case you needed someone to run messages for you."

Athos' eyes narrowed with scepticism. "It is a wonder that he did not share your proposed usefulness with me."

Claude shrugged. "I suppose 'e forgot."

The younger man was not about to get into a lengthy discussion on the matter, but he knew the real reason. Because he had refused to have one of his brothers stay with him, Claude had been tasked with his protection and had been outside all the time. Athos did not know whether to be touched or angered by the concern for his well-being. Today was the best he had felt since the attack; he was rested, definitely stronger and the pain, as long as he did not move suddenly, had subsided to a dull ache. He had not required medication although Aramis had insisted that he keep a small bottle of pain draught about his person and he had willingly complied to maintain the peace.

"Anyway, I have additional instructions about duties for the men here," and he handed over another sheet of paper that he had carefully prepared.

"I always enjoy gettin' written instructions from you," Claude quipped.

Athos raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Because they're a darn sight easier to read than the Captain's scrawl," Claude added. "I'll get this over to the camp and come straight back."

"Stay there and eat," Athos said. He wondered what the Cardinal was expecting him to do about food, especially as he had to admit to feeling hungry – again. What was happening to him these days that he was thinking more regularly about meals and eating? Aramis would probably have some answer about recovery, using more energy, building up his physical strength and such like.

When Claude shifted uncomfortably, he knew that he had guessed correctly as to the reason for being posted so close. He had to reassure the older man somehow.

"I have much to keep me occupied here so I won't have the opportunity to leave this room. Perhaps, when you return, you could bring me some bread and cheese from Serge."

Claude's smile broadened. "I'll be off then. Sooner I go, the sooner I can get back."

Silence filled the room after he had gone, only to be broken some minutes later by the Cardinal.

"Is that man always so infernally cheerful?"

Athos huffed, amused by the question. "For as long as I have known him, he reserves his wrath for the enemy; his good nature and words of wisdom are kept for his Captain and his comrades."

Richelieu looked up.

"He has them? Words of wisdom, I mean? And for Tréville? "

Athos hesitated, wondering if the Cardinal was manoeuvring the conversation to be critical or sarcastic, but when Athos met the man's steady gaze, he could see that he was intrigued.

"The Captain, Claude and Serge, our old cook, go back a long way and have seen many campaigns together. I think that between them, Serge and Claude looked out for the Captain well before he started climbing the ranks. They still do. I occasionally see one of other of them having quiet words with him and Serge is on a personal mission to make sure that the Captain takes regular meals. Otherwise I think he would forget sometimes."

He frowned as it occurred to him how alike he and Tréville were in that respect. Porthos loved his food but he had spent his early years struggling to provide for himself and survive in the Court of Miracles when there was little sustenance to be had. Aramis regarded food as a language of love and both he and d'Artagnan used mealtimes to laugh, regale the four with stories and to enjoy the time they shared, whilst he … How did he view food?

As a young vicomte and then comte, there had never been a shortage of food. The table was always full and so he never knew deprivation in those days. Food also had connotations in his mind. Perhaps that was why he now regarded it as an annoyance, an unwanted necessity, for the memories – good and bad - often flooded back depending upon the meal. Fortunately, the fare he ate now was far simpler than that served at Pinon but there were still some dishes that provoked a recollection of happy, family times; of intimate meals when he was so completely and hopelessly in love. Since then he had known hunger many times as a soldier, not least when besieged on the island of Ré, but there had also been those times when he had preferred to swallow alcohol in lieu of a nourishing meal.

The Cardinal cleared his throat, bringing him back to the present.

"Your Captain is indeed a fortunate man to have so many loyal to him. I wonder," and Richelieu abruptly changed the subject, as if realising that he had said too much, "if you have finished any pressing business, whether you would mind copying these letters I have prepared? There is also a list of those to be in receipt of them." It was couched in the manner of a polite request rather than a command, serving to confuse Athos even more.

"Nothing remains that cannot wait," and Athos crossed the room to take the letters held in the Cardinal's outstretched hand.

Resuming his seat, he began copying the first letter, but he lacked concentration, his mind repeatedly flitting to the First Minister's comment.

Did the Cardinal really envy the loyalty and respect that the Musketeers unquestioningly had for their Captain? Athos found it hard to believe that the Red Guard held the Cardinal in similar esteem; his leadership style was cold, removed and even threatening. He commanded through fear. But, somehow, Athos felt some sympathy for the man who was so isolated in his position and who was so unbending in his service to France that no-one could get close to him. Louis might have a strange fondness for Richelieu because he had such a dependency upon his adviser, but it was hardly borne of friendship.

The Cardinal certainly had his mistresses; not for him was there a vow of chastity, but the women merely satisfied his fleshly desires. He could hardly parade them openly in public. Even Adele, who divided her time and her bed between the Cardinal and Aramis, had finally disappeared to Richelieu's country estate to be secreted there for those rare occasions when the powerful man decided to pay her some attention.

A sudden chill ran down Athos' back and he looked up sharply at the Cardinal's bowed, grey head, engrossed as he was in reading a document. Had Richelieu discovered that Adele had another lover, a Musketeer? Was that why she had been removed to the country out of temptation's way? Athos did not think the Cardinal would willingly share her with another man, especially if Aramis' tales were to be believed: that Adele loved him more than the First Minister, tolerating the latter only for the lifestyle the relationship afforded her.

But was Adele really in the country? Athos had to trust that she was for the alternative was unthinkable. For a man of the church, Richelieu was capable of intense cruelty. It was bad enough that he directed his propensity for ruthlessness towards men, but the prospect of women being in receipt of his callousness beggared belief.

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter!" Richelieu barked.

A servant nervously entered. "There are some men just arrived, Your Eminence."

"Well? Who are they? Have they said what they want?" The Cardinal's irritation at the interruption was clear.

"One of them, the Vicomte Menier, says he's seeking an audience with His Majesty."

"Tell him to wait. I shall receive him shortly."

Richelieu and Athos exchanged glances.

Menier, the leader of the rebel faction, had arrived in person.

And so it began!