Please note, I am no medical expert, so the idea of food poisoning developing into typhoid fever, is based on its later connection with salmonella. I needed the regiment to be depleted, without there being any suggestion of it being targeted. This appeared to be a good solution, so forgive me for taking liberties.

Chapter 7

The three men collapsed onto the bench. Aramis and Porthos smiled broadly, both men completely drained, but happy. Serge appeared as if by magic, placing a tray of food and drink on the table.

'Don't expect this kind of service on a regular basis – it's for 'im,' he said, indicating a bemused Athos. 'It's good to see you again, son,' he added, patting the swordsman on the shoulder. 'And it's good to see them smile and mean it for a change.' With that, he ambled back to his sanctuary, leaving the three men strangely silent. The cadets continued to chat and train in the background, only emphasising the lack of conversation around the table – even Porthos only stared at the food before him.

Athos understood the inference behind the old man's words; up until now, he had never fully dared to consider the impact his leaving had had upon his friends. Now there was a huge gulf growing between them, and he knew he was the only one who could close it. He looked at the two Musketeers and desperately sought the words that would repair the damage he had done – sorry was pathetically inadequate – only a complete explanation would suffice. He took a deep breath and spoke.

'When you appeared in my life, I was adrift, without an anchor, with nothing and nobody to direct my purpose. Then, without warning, I awoke one morning to find that had all changed, and for the first time in a long while I had others to consider. Although the feeling was vague at first, it began to grow, to form a reason to be alive.

'When Treville offered me the chance to join the regiment it was a lifeline, but I was afraid to take it. I was scared it would slip from my grasp, and that I would not be able to keep afloat anymore, that I would simply drown. So I took a chance, and not only did I found a purpose, I found companionship too – more than I had ever dared. I discovered people who cared, and no matter how hard I pushed, they kept pushing back, making sure I stayed afloat. Then I made the ultimate mistake – I began to believe I could offer something in return, that I could become part of a whole once more.'

He paused, struggling to explain his desperate fear and need. Aramis and Porthos were captivated. Long speeches were not Athos' forte and they could see he was finding this difficult – but they understood he needed to do this, and they needed to hear it. Athos gazed at the two men, deep sorrow in his eyes.

Composed once more, he continued. 'When it all fell apart, I… I was angry – not with you, not with Treville, not even with the King, but with myself. Angry that I had sought something, acknowledged the need for something more than I had become – had dared to believe I could find it here. I could not have said goodbye, I could not have looked you in the eye and admitted my failure, could not have listened to your entreaties for me to stay. I was coward. I will not apologise, it would not be enough, simply another inadequacy; but understand that it was not… it was not because I did not care, only that I had begun to care too much.'

Athos stared at his hands. He could not make eye contact with the two men sitting opposite, but instead looked across the courtyard, and was surprised to find it empty. So engrossed had all three men been, they had not noticed the others leave to take refreshment in the refectory.

Aramis and Porthos were stunned. They knew Athos lacked faith in his own worth, but that he really believed himself such an abject failure was astonishing. Admonishing him would be futile, it would achieve nothing. He was trying to explain and to apologise, they accepted this, but how to show him they understood was a different matter. All they could do was try to prove to him that he did have worth – starting with just how much he was worth to them.

It was Porthos who made the first move. 'I was angry, too, and though I can't believe you could be so stupid, I do understand. However, if you ever do that again…' He paused for a moment, and it was Athos who finished his sentence.

'You can shoot me. It will probably be for the best.' Porthos looked at the swordsman, about to berate him, but when he saw the spark of mischief in Athos' eyes, the big man began to chortle.

'I will leave that to Aramis. I will just hit you first, to make myself feel better!' Aramis joined in the laughter, but Athos simply smiled.

'It is a bargain,' he stated quietly. Aramis placed his hand over Athos', and Porthos rested his on top.

'All for one …' the marksman whispered.

'… and one for all,' Athos responded, thanking the two men in the only way he knew how.

'You three, up here, now.' The command could not have come at a better moment, before they succumbed to blubbering. The three of them rose in unison and, with a shrug of his shoulders, Aramis indicated that he had no idea why they were being summoned. They filed up the staircase one behind the other, Athos bringing up the rear.

Treville sat behind his desk, drumming his fingers upon the one space not hidden under a mound of paper. Once the three men were stood before him, he began to speak.

'I have made some discreet enquiries into the events of last night.' He glanced at Athos who, as usual, was giving nothing away. The other two men shuffled slightly, and he realised they had not yet discussed it between them.

'You may not be aware, Athos, but when you ejected those two men from the tavern last night, you were being watched.' He smiled slightly, as he saw realisation dawn upon the swordsman's face.

Athos rolled his eyes. 'So that is why you came looking for me.' Now he understood why they had not been surprised to find him in the tavern that morning – it had not been a coincidence.

'We did not want to intervene, as you appeared to have it under control,' Aramis explained. Then we were interrupted and, like you, decided to make a speedy exit, especially as we had no idea what had occurred.' Athos nodded in understanding, amazed he had not noticed them. Treville continued.

'No men answering to your description were admitted to the Châtelet, last night. The Red Guard have no facility to hold prisoners in their own compound, so they would have had no choice but to pass them on to the prison. It appears they did not.' He let the statement hang in the air for the three men to digest. It was Athos who spoke up.

'Are you suggesting the Red Guard were involved somehow?' he asked the Captain. He did not express surprise at the suggestion, merely wanting to clarify the inference he detected in Treville's account of events.

The Captain smirked. 'It is not for me to say. I really do not know fully what occurred, nor what the two men may have been accused of – if anything.' Athos nodded, realising it was up to him to explain; it would appear this was the day for explanations, but he dearly hoped that this would be the last of them. He gave a succinct account of the events leading up to the encounter outside the tavern, as only Athos could, and the three men listened carefully. There was rarely any need to intervene with Athos' recall of a situation – if he was not telling it now, then it was not for telling at all… whatever his reasons. However, in this instance there seemed he had left little out. It all made sense, and they were left wondering what had become of the two men. Again, it was Athos who took up the conversation.

'They would have needed medical attention,' he stated quietly.

Porthos snorted. 'The Red Guard are hardly likely to worry about an injured prisoner,' he observed.

'No, but they might if they had been one of their own,' Athos replied, adopting a smug expression. Treville frowned in consternation.

'You actually believe the two men were Guards?' the Captain asked. Athos grew serious. He seemed thoughtful.

'I had my suspicions. There was something orderly in the way they went about their collections. On the occasions I witnessed them, they never showed any sign of expecting trouble, never kept watch to ensure no Guard or Musketeer was present. If I had been part of a pair, I would have had one man keep watch whilst I made the collection, but that was never the case. They did not expect trouble.' Treville listened to the observation and nodded, it was nowhere near conclusive, but it was an interesting point.

'Well, if they follow their usual pattern, nothing will happen now until the end of the month, so we must bide our time. Make some discreet enquiries, but then hope to catch them in the act. Athos, we will need you to stay at the garrison in order to identify the two men. And whilst you are here, I take it you will make yourself useful as you just did?' He was not going to ask the man to stay – he knew it was a difficult subject– but this way, he had given the young man no choice. Athos stared at the Captain, merely nodding his agreement, and the other two men could hardly contain their joy.

'Well go and find something useful to do you two, I need to speak with Athos.' The two men happily left the room. Athos would have to stay at least until the end of the month, and they would make it count. Once outside Porthos began to chuckle.

'You do realise 'e has said more today than 'e did in the first three months that we knew 'im?

'Do you think it is a new Athos?' Aramis asked, stupefied.

'Nah.' Porthos shook his head. 'Doubt he will say anything for the next two weeks, to make up for it!' Aramis snorted, both men chuckling at the thought of Athos having used up his quota of conversation for the next few weeks in just one day.

Inside the Captain's office, Athos' heartbeat rapidly increased. Please, no more explanations. Suddenly he felt drained; he had not eaten or drunk anything, excluding wine, for days and, after the vigorous exercise in the yard, his legs threatened to buckle. Treville noted the young man's complexion pale, and guessed that he feared the conversation to come.

'Sit. That's an order.' He did not wait for Athos to point out he was not a Musketeer, but left the room and shouted over the banister to the cadets below: 'Tell Serge we need food and drink for two. My office.' He returned to his desk confident that his orders would be carried out to the letter. If the truth be told, he was not at all hungry, having had breakfast not so long ago, but he knew that even if Athos were to eat, he certainly would not do so alone. Like many who knew the man, he often wondered what kept the swordsman alive.

'We have a situation,' Treville informed the sallow young man. 'Your arrival is most timely, as I admit another pair of eyes would be most helpful.' He deliberately avoided Athos' stare, giving him time to realise he was not about to be admonished or interrogated. When he looked up, there was more colour in Athos' face, though he was still pale, but then he always was. However, there was a gleam of relief in his eyes, and Treville knew he had read the young man right.

'The King has decided that there are those amongst the nobility who were conspicuous by their absence from the party. Added to which, rumours of ill health and injury abound, and he is most upset.' A raised brow accompanied the comment, and Athos gave a chuckle, well imagining the King's reaction to such gossip.

'He has decided, much to the Cardinal's horror, and mine, I might add, that a small tour is in order. He feels that burdening those responsible with hosting their majesties, and their associated entourage, for however long he wishes, will make them toe the line, or bankrupt them, whichever is the most effective.' Athos, continued to smile, whether at the King's childish behaviour or the Cardinal's discomfort, he was not sure.

'That leaves the regiment with a real headache. Obviously, the King wishes the Musketeers to be his escort, but how long the journey will last, is impossible to tell. It could be months, or it may come to an end following the first bad meal or uncomfortable bed, who knows? However, we are not leaving until the end of the month, though that day approaches fast. Aramis suggested sending Musketeers to the various destinations, in order to get a better idea of routes and possible dangers, as well as establishing who to expect in residence, and who not to expect.' Athos smiled at his friend's perspicacity.

'An excellent idea,' he stated, waiting for the rest of the story. There was a problem, and he would give Treville the opportunity to explain. However, fate intervened, and it was down to a poor cadet to impart the news. A sudden knock at the door caused both men to turn.

'Come,' came the answering bark, and the young cadet Guinot entered the room. He gave Athos a nod of acknowledgment before turning to Treville. Guinot offered no smile, obviously not particularly delighted to be the one delivering the message. Treville waited, frowning at the young man's hesitation.

'Go ahead, Guinot. The tradition of beheading the messenger died out many years ago,' Athos offered as encouragement. The young man smiled and straightened slightly.

'Sir, the infirmarian says you are to come as quickly as you can… if you please… sir,' he added, not sure if the message was appropriate in its current form. Treville took in the young man's demeanour, and with increased concern, he beckoned to Athos.

'Come.' Both men followed the cadet down the stairs and across the courtyard. Aramis and Porthos, working with the young men in the yard, noted their journey across the open space and, after exchanging a brief look of concern, followed them. They arrived close on the two men's heels, just in time to hear the medic issue his dire opinion.

'They were bought in supposedly suffering from some form of stomach problem, the result of badly prepared food. However, whatever the source, I now have to conclude we are dealing with typhoid fever. We have just lost Blaize, and I fear we may lose more before the end of the day and, worse still, two more cases have just been bought in.' Treville stared at the man totally disbelievingly. Dead? But they had simply eaten bad food. Snapping to attention, the stunned Captain demanded:

'What do we do?' The infirmarian shook his head.

'We quarantine the infirmary. No visitors to those already sick and bring food and other necessities no further than the door. Blaize had been ill recently, and his resistance may have already been low. With luck, those on the brink may have more good fortune, but Le Grand is fading. We also need to know where they have been.' He did not elaborate; the inference was enough. Treville turned to the three men at his side. 'Round up the men.' Athos, Aramis and Porthos moved as one. Within minutes the entire garrison was lined up beneath the balcony outside the Captain's office.

'Men, we have a situation. Two days ago, ten men left the garrison fit and well. Within several hours they were confined to the infirmary with suspected poisoning from something they had eaten, or drunk. I am sorry to inform you that Blaize has since died from this infection,' He paused to allow the shock of his news to sink in. 'The rest of the party are still severely ill, and we may yet lose more men. The infirmary is off limits and, as of now, all food, drink and medical supplies are to be left at the door. Meals will be taken in your rooms and any existing supplies will be destroyed.' He ran his hands through his hair at the thought of the expense of replacing all the provisions already opened, not to mention Serge's reaction.

'Those of you who have had any dealings with the men inside the infirmary, I ask that you confine yourself to your rooms for the next twenty-four hours, by which time any symptoms should have become apparent. If any of those affected live outside the garrison, rooms will be made available and your kin will be notified. Those of you who have had no contact with the men, stay where you are. Cadets, you can go to your quarters for the present, and await instructions.' He noted roughly ten or twelve men had reacted to his directive of self-quarantine – which meant at least twenty-five of his men out of action in all.

'Athos, Porthos, Aramis, my office.' Treville turned from the rail and disappeared inside, where he paced back and forth, digesting the possible outcome of the latest catastrophe.

The three men swept into the room, Athos in the lead – a total change from their last entrance. Had the situation not been so serious, Treville would have smiled at the return of the familiar formation.

'Find where they went. My understanding is it was Belvoir's birthday – start there, and whilst you are making enquiries, you may also uncover other items of interest.' Athos nodded in understanding, and the three men left without uttering a word. With one man dead and many more ill, it was not a time for humour or superficial banter.

Once outside, Porthos and Aramis disappeared to find out if anyone knew where the birthday celebrations had been held, leaving Athos alone for the first time in several hours. He closed his eyes and made the most of the moment of solitude. It had been a long time since he had been around so many people who actually expected him to interact with them – he was out of practice and had forgotten how tiring it could be. The food Treville had sent for had not had time to arrive, and he had to admit that his body was beginning to feel the effect.

Aramis and Porthos raced back across the yard, their faces indicating that they now had somewhere to begin.