Thank you for reading and leaving comments yesterday.
Today, Athos continues to bring the Red Guard to order and Gaston is worried that his brother suspects him!
CHAPTER 106
I
"Thank you," Athos said quietly as he stood at Serge's shoulder.
"You're welcome," was the gruff reply.
"Am I forgiven for creating all this extra work for you?"
In answer, Serge summoned up what he thought was a menacing scowl, but he could not maintain it and, instead, he grinned.
"I can make the best of a bad lot. Luckily, two or three of the men offered to help lighten the load. Just don't be expectin' a feast tonight though; it'll be pottage with some mutton." He looked out at the Red Guard who had settled onto the ground to eat. "They seem 'appy enough which sort of makes it all worth it an' if it 'elps make your life a bit easier, then I'd say it's all to the good."
"I owe you," Athos responded.
"I'll take it as paid back if you get this down you, lad," and Serge handed over a chunk of bread and cold meat.
"I think I can manage that," and Athos walked off, waving the bread in farewell but he did not start eating immediately.
Instead, he walked among the men and was pleased when the majority greeted him first as he approached, many of them thanking him for securing the food. He spoke to all of them, either individually or as they sat in their small groups. Recognising some from his round on the previous evening, he acknowledged them and briefly spared time for the colleagues they introduced to him. He knew from the eyes watching him that he was the subject of several conversations and he hoped the comments were not damning.
In one group, there was a surly soldier sporting a black eye.
"That looks painful. How did it happen?" he asked, keeping his voice light but the man refused to make eye contact and remained silent.
"The Captain asked you a question. The food you're eatin' is on account of 'im. You'll show 'im some respect by givin' 'im an answer," Grenouille growled ominously. He had come to stand a few feet away, listening in to the exchange.
Still not looking up, the man muttered something, but Athos caught the words "spoke out of turn." He looked at the others sitting there with the man.
"Is there anyone in the regiment with medical knowledge?"
"No, Captain. Just what we've learned as we go along," one of the men answered. He was probably of similar age to Athos but his long, thin hair was already streaked with grey.
"Your name is?" Athos demanded.
"Rohmer, Sir."
"Well, Rohmer, spread the word that if there are any medical issues you cannot deal with yourselves, send word to me through Grenouille here. It does not matter how small the problem."
"So your Musketeer friend can come and play physician," the surly man grumbled.
"Shut it, Tirel," warned Grenouille.
"You wantin' your other eye blacked?" a third man in the group asked.
Athos hooked his thumbs into his belt. "It is fine, gentlemen; thank you." His eyes narrowed as he looked down on Tirel but his voice did not change. "You might be glad of his assistance before the day is out, Tirel; I only hope, for your sake, that it is unnecessary. Aramis may well have not had specific training, but he has had plenty of practice and reads widely on the subject. He is a good field medic. A physician has accompanied the King, but he has absolutely no experience of battle injuries. If I were to be injured later today, I know whom I would prefer to have tending me. The choice is entirely yours, unless you are unconscious of course, but if your feelings against him are so strong, I dare say one of your friends here will remember your wish and prevent Aramis from treating you."
As Athos expected, Tirel had nothing to say for himself but did have the decency to look ashamed, especially when his friends started sniggering.
The new Red Guard Captain continued on his way, answering the occasional questions that had occurred to the men since the briefing.
"So what was the reason for Tirel's black eye?" Athos wanted to know when he and Grenouille had completed a circuit of the men. He had his suspicions and he was not disappointed.
"He spoke disrespectfully about you, Captain," Grenouille explained.
"I trust you were not responsible for administering such a swift but unorthodox punishment."
Grenouille laughed. "If I'd 'eard 'im, it might've crossed my mind. No, that black eye's a present from one of the men on duty that you spoke to last night an' I'm thinkin' that with the way you've just dealt with 'im, you shouldn't 'ave any more trouble from anyone."
II
The Duc d'Orleans was waiting impatiently in the corridor outside the room where Allaire was being held prisoner. He had slept little, thinking about what the day might bring and his involvement in it.
Gaston was worried about L'Hernault's part in the proceedings and his fixation with the Musketeer who had infiltrated the meeting. The noble was a liability, having murdered the wrong man, and it was imperative for the Duc to distance himself. He was painfully aware that he had been excluded from the discussions between his brother, the First Minister and Captain Tréville and this concerned him, convinced as he was that they knew more about the plot than they were admitting.
Foolishly, he had declared L'Hernault a friend when speaking with the Cardinal the previous evening and it was an easy step to assume that the murderer was Gaston's man at the Troyes gathering. The Musketeer had successfully reached Paris and made his report; he would have heard from L'Hernault's own lips that Gaston was prepared to move men through France, the major point the Duc had omitted to tell his brother and which condemned him outright as a traitor unless …
When the solution came to mind, he was hard-pressed to subdue his excitement, but he needed Allaire as a matter of urgency to bring his decision to fruition.
The Musketeer on guard had refused to release the prisoner until he had the authorisation from Richelieu and Gaston had made such a nuisance of himself that the soldier had sent to the Cardinal for that permission. Richelieu had been at his most maddening, stalling for an hour before he sent an affirmative response.
Allaire looked unkempt and shaken by his night under lock and key, although his improvised cell had been far better than anything available in the notorious prisons of Paris and it had not taken him long to appreciate that fact. Deprived of sleep, he was grey and gaunt after only a few hours' incarceration.
At first, he was pleasantly surprised that the Duc was waiting for him but as he was hurried up the main stairs and into the Duc's rooms, he realised that there was an ulterior motive. Warily he sat and watched as Gaston poured him a watered wine.
"Nothing stronger for you have work to do," the Duc informed him, holding out the goblet.
Allaire took it and sipped the contents, conscious that his hands were shaking as a result of his experience.
"And what work might that be?" he asked tentatively.
"I need you to be ready to ride to my camps as soon as the meeting between Louis and Menier is concluded."
"To give the order to attack?" Allaire wanted to know.
Gaston shook his head, a sly grin spreading across his face. "In a way, but not as you would expect."
Allaire looked puzzled. "I don't understand."
"It is quite simple," the Duc declared. "We are going to change sides!"