XXIX. Stand Down

Paris, two weeks later

"I have been shot at. Stabbed. Punched in the face; got my ribs broken. I've spent weeks starving, thirsty and in chains." Porthos' lips were barely moving, but his friends understood him perfectly. "I've lived in constant fear and on pure adrenaline in order to protect the King and what's his. For honor. For duty. And what is my reward?" Porthos made an overly dramatic pause. "Another bloody parade."

"At least it's not summer," Athos countered dryly.

Aramis answered with a confirming huff. "To be honest, after Ré Island, this parade is a vacation." His tone was numb at the mere mention of the place. "We can still barely stand on our own – don't give me that look, Athos, you know I am right – but the King wants us, specifically, to attend the welcoming of the Spanish ambassador."

A shadow passed Porthos' face. "Well, there aren't that many musketeers left to take our place."

Aramis sighed. "Agreed. Still, why us? I don't think it's because we're high up in his favor or anything."

"Because the King wants to talk to us once this is done," Athos mumbled between them and interrupted the beginning of one of Aramis' and Porthos' stealthy conversations in the middle of the goddamn parade.

"How do you know that?" Porthos asked, nearly breaking formation to give Athos a surprised look. Athos could see Treville glaring at them.

He barely managed to hide an involuntary eye-roll. "I asked the Captain."

He heard Aramis chuckle next to him. "That's why I like you, Athos. So practical."

Athos chose not to reply to that, and the look Treville sent them was more than clear. Even Aramis didn't make another sound. They endured the following thirty minutes of the King and the Queen giving the Spanish ambassador a warm and only superficially enthusiastic welcome. The man was not very popular at court, a Spanish noble who often dared to disrespect the King and even the Queen, despite her Spanish heritage. He was wary of the Cardinal and Treville, however, which was probably the only reason the parade concluded without any subtle insults being directed toward the King. Treville was quite a presence at the King's side.

After everything was finally said and done, the palace guards escorted the ambassador towards the council room where he was to confer with the King later, and the Queen left accompanied by her two guards and her ladies.

Meanwhile, the young King elegantly rose from his throne and walked down the steps. He dismissed the few guards that were still waiting on both sides, and eventually, he came to a stop in front of the musketeers. Treville came to a halt a few lengths behind the King, keeping a respectful distance.

Athos, Aramis and Porthos were positioned at the front of the musketeer formation, and behind them were Guillaume, Theo and a few of the cadets who had also been put on parade duty today.

"My musketeers," the King started with a loud voice, "It is my privilege and my honor to inform you that after weeks of siege and fighting, the Duke of Buckingham has abandoned the siege of Ré Island and has withdrawn back to England. It is expected he will return in order to support the city of La Rochelle, but for now, Ré Island has been successfully defended."

He took another step towards the musketeers. Athos could see Treville behind him looking at the young king with a tense expression on his face, as if he was not sure what would follow.

"I know that the past weeks have not been easy for any of you, but I am thankful for your loyalty and the service you have given both to me and to France." The King hesitated once again and before he continued his little speech, he eyed Porthos, Athos and Aramis intensely. With a flick of his wrist, he commanded them to take a step forward. They shared a brief, skeptical look, but obediently stepped forward, their heads bowed.

The King folded his hands in front of his chest and lowered his voice. "Captain Treville has given me reports, reports that he received from other musketeers in your regiment. They are testimony to your resolution to protect both the soil and the citizens of France. Being faced with a lack of leadership motivated you three to take responsibility for your regiment, and the people you saved." Athos could see one of the King's rare, honest smiles. "I am fully aware that it is only due to your efforts that Commander Décart has been able to hold out in the citadel for so long. Many of your comrades agree that if it hadn't been for you three, the musketeers and the citizens would not have made it off of Ré Island alive."

With another hand movement, he ordered them to look up again, and so they did. All three of them looked straight ahead, like soldiers. King Louis tilted his head. "I am thankful for your loyalty, and for your endurance."

He took a step back, and with a broad grin on his face, he clapped his hands.

"And I am proud to have such honorable and brave men among my musketeers."

There was a short silence, and it was only due to a discreet signal from Treville that Athos knew what to do. He bowed his head once again, and he felt Aramis and Porthos as well as the other assembled musketeers behind him do the same.

"Thank you, your majesty" he said.

The king nodded, turned on his heel and proceeded towards the council room with the palace guards by his side. The musketeers turned towards Treville to await their orders, but their Captain, with an unusually content expression on his face, dismissed them from their duty for the day with a signal of his hand.

Athos and the others waited until the King was no longer in sight before they broke their formation. He heard Aramis exhale slowly to his right and Porthos chuckling to his left.

"Noble war heroes get a parade, and we get a thank you." He grinned. "Not that I'm complaining. I'm really not. Praise and glory are some of my favorite things, as you know."

Even Athos had a smile on his face as they turned to leave the palace side by side. "You see, this is the highest reward any of us will ever receive from his majesty."

"Is it?" Aramis sounded curious. "How so?"

Athos looked slightly amused. "Because contrary to the parades, this time, he meant what he said. And that is rare at court."

Neither Aramis nor Porthos could disagree with that, and until they left the palace grounds, they walked next to each other in silence. Aramis was still limping, and Athos was still walking stiffly, but they were all on the road to recovery. Porthos was beginning to show the scar across his eye, and Aramis had already invented a number of fake stories with which Porthos could impress the ladies.

"On a side note," Aramis interrupted the silence once they had arrived at their horses. "Did we find out yet why our reports were so late in reaching Treville? Who was responsible for making sure they did not reach Paris?"

Athos shook his head as he steadied his horse. "Nobody knows yet, but Treville has his ideas and he's going to investigate."

"Such as?" Porthos wanted to know.

"Poitiers," the swordsman answered slowly. "That's the village closest to Comte Suard's lands. It is on the route from La Rochelle to Paris. Treville thinks it might be one of the Comte's men who stole the reports and prevented them from reaching the Captain. And if that is the case…"

"…then Comte Suard is a proven English spy," Porthos finished sourly and grasped his reins a little tighter to control his nervous horse.

"Yes, except for the proof part, because at the moment, we don't have any," Aramis commented dryly as he had finally made it safely atop his horse and leant over the animal's neck. "So? What are the plans now?"

"I could use a drink," Porthos murmured with a hopeful grin on his face.

Aramis' face lit up. "That's probably the best proposition you have made today, my friend."

Athos just shrugged,"I'm sure we have earned it." And digging his heels into his horse's flanks, he led the two of them back into the city, the other musketeers following a little behind.

In the evening

"It seems strange, doesn't it?" Porthos keenly observed the dancing women and the arguing men in the center of the small building. Athos, Aramis and Porthos had withdrawn to a table at the back of the tavern, with a bottle of wine and three cups. A few other musketeers and a few other soldiers that had fought on Ré Island were here too. Some of them were dancing with the women, others were celebrating the liberation of the island. And again others were quietly in the corner, drinking one cup after another.

"You are just not used to it anymore," Aramis replied. He was seated opposite Porthos and next to Athos, who sat staring into his wine cup.

"Perhaps," Porthos replied. "It's been two weeks, but I fear it'll take a longer time to become used to being back in Paris. After all that has happened the past weeks, it's hard to…" He stopped, as if he was not sure what to say.

"Calm down? Relax? Not suspect danger with every step you make?" Aramis finished and sighed bitterly. "Oh, you know how it is going to be. They will say it's a victory, a glorious victory for France. That we're winners, that we prevailed and stood our ground. All until another, bigger victory comes along."

"I don't feel like a winner," Porthos said. "I feel like a survivor."

The marksman leant forward on his elbows and the table creaked ominously. "I'll tell you what nobody will admit to or dare to address, is . . ." Aramis continued, his voice devoid of all emotion.

"What we lost there," Athos finished with a dark expression on his face, his eyes focused on his wine. Aramis merely raised his glass in Athos' direction and took a good swallow.

"What France lost, what England lost," Porthos continued with a low voice. "In our minds, Re Island will never be a victory. It will always stand for loss." He received confirming grunts from Aramis and Athos. For a few minutes, they sat together in silence, and watched Théo close to the bar, doing his best to avoid a brawl with a red guard over whose uniform he had spilled some wine a few minutes ago.

"You know, if I were him, I would have punched the teeth out of that guard," Porthos grumbled and pointed towards the scene with the cup in his hands.

Aramis chuckled. "Didn't you promise the cardinal not to beat up his guards for a while?"

Porthos grimaced. "He wasn't there to hear it, was he?" He exchanged a look with Aramis and both of them started laughing. It was a relief to laugh again. Even Athos couldn't help but look amused. Porthos eventually refilled his cup.

"Let's drink. To us, who made it out of there alive, and to all those who did not." Every musketeer in the tavern fell silent listening to Porthos' toast, which originally was only meant for his own table.

After a short moment of embarrassing silence, Porthos continued. "To Laurent and Thomas. To Gino, to Frédéric, Dénis, Dorian, Daniel. To Philippe and Mathis. And to every soul, French or English, who didn't leave Ré Island alive."

"Amen!" The musketeers echoed in the tavern and even the red guards stayed silent for a moment. The musketeers knew that some of the cardinal's guards had supported Commander Décart in the citadel and had their own memories and losses to acknowledge.

Once everybody had finished their drink, the tavern noise rose back up again. Aramis not so gently grabbed the bottle of wine in front of them to refill their cups.

"I don't know, my friends…but I have a feeling Paris will treat us well. We will have adventure, excitement, and hopefully lots of opportunities to improve ourselves."

Athos lifted his gaze. "So, you mean we will have our duty?"

Aramis grimaced. "Doesn't sound exciting if you say it like that, Athos."

Porthos cleared his throat audibly and his fingers twitched nervously around his cup. "Whatever Paris has in store for us, I am glad to have you two by my side for that."

Aramis smiled and lifted his wine. "Right back at you, brother."

Athos nodded and squeezed Porthos' shoulder briefly across the table. "You know, when I first was on Ré Island with you two, I feared I would be stuck with you indefinitely." Porthos could see on Aramis' face that the marksman had a teasing comment ready, but he kicked his friend's shin underneath the table to shut him up and let Athos finish his sentence.

"Now, I am glad that I was and am able to count on you to have my back," the swordsman finished sincerely. Porthos beamed. It was unusual for Athos to share his sentiments so openly, but all three of them knew that what had happened on Ré Island had only strengthened the bond they already shared.

Aramis smiled. "There is a musketeer motto for a reason." He raised his cup. "All for one, my friends."

Porthos and Athos smiled and raised their cups as well.

"And one for all."