Chapter 16

Athos had not walked far, when he heard the Captain bellowing his name. Turning abruptly, he saw Treville beckoning him back toward the lodge. He retraced his steps, puzzled by the sudden recall.

'Captain?' Adrenalin still coursed through his body as it always did after a fight, particularly when it was a fight to the death.

'Come with me, the King may have questions, but do not say anything unless you have to,' Treville growled. 'I would have taken Aramis, but…' The prospect of Aramis appearing before the King in his current state, elicited a grin Athos could not contain. Despite the threatening clouds, the air was warm, and the thick mud had begun to dry all over the soaked Musketeer, chalklike matter encrusted in his hair and beard, giving him the appearance of a much older man.

'I think it makes him look distinguished,' Porthos noted, keeping his face devoid of all humour. Athos snorted as he followed after the Captain, whilst Aramis simply rolled his eyes, before making for his room to change.

The King and Queen were waiting in the King's private apartments. As Treville and Athos entered, it was clear Louis had been pacing up and down, an action he stopped as soon as he saw the Captain.

'Ah, Treville, what is the matter, why have the coaches been emptied?' Louis would have drummed his fingers upon the arm of his chair had he been seated but, as it was, he simply glared at the man responsible for his ire.

Treville took a deep breath. 'I sent two men out to establish whether the roads were passable. They returned to inform me that the river has burst its banks and the road is now immersed under a torrent of water. We have no choice but to wait for the water to recede.' Louis stamped his foot.

'This is most tiresome, Treville. I had not anticipated having to stay here for more than one night.' As always, Richelieu hovered near, but it appeared even he felt for the Captain's plight.

'I am sure the Captain is only thinking of the safety of the party, Your Highness; swollen rivers can be extremely dangerous. One more night will see everyone refreshed and ready to travel on the morrow, will it not, Captain?' Treville was grateful for the Cardinal's support, though the look he gave the First Minister plainly showed his caution at receiving such unanticipated backing.

'I am afraid there is more, Sire. My men were ambushed by two men as they were appraising the state of the road. Both were killed, but we have reason to believe they were not alone, and that you are their intended target.' Treville let his words sink in.

The Queen placed her hand upon her husband's arm before speaking calmly. 'Then perhaps it is a good thing that we were not able to travel today. I am sure Captain Treville will do everything he can to find out who is responsible.' Louis no longer bore the expression of a petulant child, but had grown serious. He looked from Treville to Athos, whom he appeared to notice for the first time. He took in the swordsman's dishevelled state and realised it was likely he had been one of the men Treville had sent on the expedition.

'Monsieur Athos, from the quantities of mud upon your person, I deduce you were one of the men involved?' Athos bowed before the monarch.

'Indeed, Sire.' He added nothing else, hoping the King would ask no further questions.

'The other Musketeer, he was not hurt I hope?' Louis asked, noting that only one man was present. Treville would have stepped in to answer the question, but it had clearly been addressed to Athos.

'No, Sire, Aramis is unhurt, but the path was rather muddy and he was unseated from his horse when the attack was launched.' Louis said nothing but he was clearly considering what he had heard.

'What type of men were they – brigands, soldiers?' Athos did not hesitate.

'They were not trained soldiers, Sire. They were not accomplished with a sword and, despite the proximity of myself and Aramis, when they fired, they missed completely. I suspect they were hired help, nothing more. I believe we came across them unexpectedly, as the ambush was clumsy and not thought through.' Most of this was as much news to Treville as it was to the King.

'And you believe they were part of a much larger party; whose purpose was to kill me?' Athos hesitated, he was not entirely sure he did, as he had no proof, but if convincing Louis that he believed so meant the King would not complain about staying an extra night, then he would go along with the supposition.

'They were clearly not alone, intimating they were part of a larger party, and they were intent on murder.' He had mentioned no names, and hoped the King would now transfer his attention to the Captain. He could feel the Cardinal's stare burning into his back, so intense was his interest.

'Very well, Treville, it would seem we have little choice. Do what you think is necessary but keep us informed.' With that, he turned away from the Musketeer Captain and back to his wife, making it clear the audience was over. Nonetheless, Treville and Athos still bowed before turning to leave the room, but they had not gone far when they heard Richelieu call after them to wait.

'Is there something you are not telling me, Treville? You have that shifty look upon your face.' Richelieu peered intently at the Captain, as if he could read his mind.

'You are a fine one to talk, though I appreciated your support. What is it you want? I have much to do.' Not in the least intimidated by the man, Treville held the First Minister's stare.

'Do you have any idea who it is planning this attack?' the Cardinal demanded. The Captain shook his head, frowning as he admitted he did not.

'They had nothing about their persons to give us any clue. The fact that they were not trained or following a co-ordinated plan suggests, as Athos said, they are not soldiers. Still, that does not mean someone more skilled is not behind the force; wherever they are.' Richelieu narrowed his eyes, trying to decide if Treville was telling all he knew.

Appearing satisfied, he took a step backward. 'Keep me informed.' Without another word, he left the men standing in the corridor and stalked back toward the King's rooms, gowns billowing in his wake.

Athos and Treville exchanged glances. 'Do you believe he knows nothing?' Athos asked his superior.

'For once, yes. He believed I was holding out on him. He did not have the look of a man with a plan afoot – I know that look, he would appear far smugger. No, I do not think he was behind this.' Treville paused and stopped in the middle of the corridor, holding Athos in his steely gaze. 'You did not give me the extra details – what exactly did they say?' Athos stood straight and his face became the blank mask Treville was becoming familiar with; it was the one that made his stomach drop and his mouth dry, and it rarely preceded good news.

'The one never spoke at all, and the other only briefly.' He halted, hoping the Captain would not pursue this line of questioning, though he was sure that he would.

'And exactly what was that brief comment, Athos? I know you are holding out on me, so do not think that superior expression will put me off.' His brittle comment had the desired effect, and Athos let out a long sigh.

The swordsman shook his head and frowned. 'He did not tell us anything useful, just that there were more of them, enough to do the job.' Treville appeared puzzled.

'And that is what has you worried?' The sarcasm in his voice was clear. Athos rubbed his eyes. He was tired, and he was not even sure what it was that bothered him about the dying man's comment, just that something did.

'His actual words were enough to take him out. I cannot say why that bothers me, but for some reason, I cannot help but think the King was not their prey.' Treville ran his hands through his hair.

'Who else would they want, the Cardinal?' He processed the information, but it did not really make sense. 'For now, we will take the usual precautions. We will hold off sending men to Paris in case there is an attack. We will assume that either the King or his First Minister are the target, and work on that premise. Say nothing to the men.' Athos nodded, realising he was being dismissed. He left the Captain standing in the corridor, thoughtful as he ran scenarios through his head.

Aramis and Porthos had gone to catch up on some rest, having been on duty throughout the night. Athos had organised a rota for the rest of the men, apart from the Red Guard, who had been less than helpful.

'You ain't even a Musketeer, so don't try tellin' us what to do,' Renard, the highest ranking Guard in the party sneered, as he observed Athos directing the men. 'Don't even know why you lot listen to him anyway.' Athos ignored the comment, not in the slightest bit interested in what the man had to say.

One of the Musketeers who overheard the derisive comment turned and got up close to the surprised soldier. 'Probably because, unlike you, he talks a lot of sense.' With that, he stepped back and carried on his way, leaving the disgruntled guard with his brow furrowed in anger.

Once all the men were in position – sparring or looking after horses and weapons – Athos decided he would take a look around the outside of the lodge. He had not yet had the opportunity and, though he, too, should be dead to the world, he knew sleep would not come – and if it did, he knew it would provide no peace. He was a man who could operate on little rest, and after the earlier skirmish, just like the Captain, his mind was racing over scenarios and possibilities.

He eyed the distant sky and could see the dark clouds approaching slowly. The wind was brisk, and above the heavy grey sky boiled with anger, all signs of the sunshine obliterated. The noise from the trees was all that he could hear; any signs of approaching horses, or even men, would be masked by the wind-bent branches. Between the tortured boughs, the forest beckoned dark and foreboding, and whatever lurked within it had them at a distinct disadvantage, though not to such an extent now that they had been forewarned. Athos shivered to think what might have happened if unknown foe had attacked the unprepared Musketeers in their sleep; it may even have resulted in another Savoy – or worse.

He turned the corner and began to traverse the rear of the lodge; more gardens stretched out for some distance, but nothing so grand as the Palace – this, after all, was a building where men could meet and hunt, the grounds there simply to show the King's affluence. But at least they kept the edge of the forest at bay, and anyone heading for the lodge would easily be seen by the now watchful Musketeers before they had chance to reach the main building.

As Athos watched the tree line and mulled over the morning's activities, his boots suddenly trod upon something that ground beneath his boot. The sound attracted his attention; it was not the familiar crunching of gravel, but a sound that set his teeth on edge. Bending down, Athos ran his fingers over small shards of glass and, instantly alert, he began to check the ground floor windows. Judging by the less glamorous design and darkened interiors beyond, he judged the rooms to be storage or part of the servants' domain. As he walked a little further, he happened to glance upward and, sure enough, one of the panes of glass in the window was broken. Now it could have been coincidence but running a short distance from the ground was a series of buttresses that projected from the wall, just enough to provide a sound foothold for someone wishing to climb to that very spot.

oOo

Milady was sitting amongst the other women, whilst the Queen played chess with Angeline – the chattering females, watching and offering noises of encouragement to both parties, when appropriate.

She wandered over to the window just as Athos walked away from the large barn, heading toward the corner of the lodge. She watched as he strode across the open ground, his usual swagger recognisable even from her lofty position. She realised she was smiling and instantly began to frown. Still she did not turn away, but continued to observe his progress, until the man had disappeared from sight. She ignored the sudden urge to be excused and follow him, as something told her he would not welcome the intrusion.

'He is a man who begs attention, is he not?' came a woman's voice from over her shoulder. Milady did not need to turn to know who had addressed her. Remaining where she stood, she schooled her features into a mask of boredom and phrased her answer.

'I doubt he is remotely aware of being observed, nor does he wish it,' she replied, keeping her voice low and steady, though every nerve in her body willed her to slit the bitch's throat.

'No, that is what makes him so attractive, his total lack of self-awareness. Such a challenge, do you not think?' She almost whispered the words, and Milady wondered how she had managed to get so close without her noting the woman's approach. Had she been so absorbed watching him?

'He is undoubtedly handsome, but I find him too cold,' Milady replied, this time turning to look Suzanne in the eye, both women being of a similar height.

'Oh, I think that aloof exterior hides a passionate nature. No one can always be that controlled, he has to give in to his emotions some time. Quite a tempting prospect, but perhaps you prefer a demurer and less demanding bed mate?' With that, Suzanne turned her back on her competition, leaving her fuming, Milady clenching her fists at the woman's fading laughter. Her anger began to simmer and she raised a brow, finally allowing a small smile to form upon her lips. The woman had no idea, and Milady was pretty sure she never would – though she had been completely accurate in her assumption concerning Athos.

The Queen announced she was weary. The air had become stuffy and there was no air in the room; a storm was definitely approaching once again. The women were left to their own devices, some taking up their sewing or playing games, whilst others left for the quiet of their own apartments. Milady was just debating what to do with her time, when a small boy appeared in the doorway and beckoned her over. Checking to ensure nobody was observing her, she walked slowly to the door, where the boy held out a small note sealed with wax. Noting the Cardinal's mark, she thanked the boy and tucked it into her skirts.

Only two women now remained in the room, and they were enjoying a quiet game of chess. Milady slipped from the apartment, quickly making her way to the room she was very glad she had not been forced to share. She tore open the missive, it which was worded in the usual abrupt manner – Library at your earliest convenience. R. Her pulse quickened. Was she about to discover whatever plot or intrigue the man had in mind? It had plagued her ever since he had requested her presence. Checking her reflection in the mirror, she left the room, having carefully disposed of the note in the fire.

oOo

Angeline had a headache. She was young, having only joined the Queen's retinue some months previously, when one of the royal ladies had left to marry. Her father had found her the position and hoped that she, too, would make a good connection – one that would help increase the family's status and coffers. She opened her door, glad that Rachael, her roommate, had opted to remain and play chess, as it would give her some time on her own to lie down and rest. Having little time to themselves, she missed the solitude of her home in the country.

A noise in the corner of the room startled her, but not so much as the sight of a man emerging from a door that had suddenly appeared in the wall. Her eyes flew open wide, and she was about to scream when, covering the distance between them surprisingly quickly, the stranger was suddenly upon her. Placing a large hand over her mouth, he stifled her cry. The woman attempted to struggle, but she was no match for the man who held her.

'Bloody hell, you said this room would be on the soldiers' floor, not a woman's!' The words were issued by another man, who followed from the hidden passageway.

'We must have taken a wrong turn in the dark. What should we do now?' The second man made a quick gesture, drawing his finger across his throat. The poor girl attempted to struggle even more, but it was futile. 'Seems a waste, can't we take her with us, while away a few hours?' At that Angeline found some purchase and kicked out at the man, catching him off guard, her foot connecting with his shin, just as her teeth bit into the soft flesh of his hand. 'Bitch!' the man shouted. Instinctively, he took hold of her head and gave it a quick twist. The sickening sound as her slim neck snapped seemed to fill the room.

'Drag her in here, no one will find her, at least not until we are done. Hurry up.' He disappeared back inside the passageway and waited as his ally dragged the unfortunate girl inside the tunnel, plummeting the space into darkness as the door clicked closed behind him. A candle blossomed to life, creating a soft glow that illuminated the macabre sight of Angeline's corpse, now lying against the wall, her still, pale face looking upward at an unnatural angle.

'Get the drawing out again, we need to see where we went wrong.' They stood silently, lamp raised, as they studied the diagram that had been drawn for them, showing the complex system of passageways that linked the kitchens and pantries to the rest of the lodge.

oOo

Having alerted the Musketeers guarding the perimeter to take care and remain extra vigilant, Athos took the front steps two at a time, hurrying to inform Treville what he had discovered. Like the Captain, he, too, wished they had been able to bring the extra men they had planned for. Recent events had made him realise just how vulnerable they were, even more so than travelling on the road; the lodge was too big to manage, and the staff too much of an unknown quantity. At least at somewhere like Rambouillet the staff were well known, and any newcomers could be monitored and watched.

Once informed of the Captain's whereabouts, Athos headed to one of the small saloons on the first floor, knocking upon the door with some urgency. The familiar summons almost made him smile – despite the lavish surroundings, Treville was, and always would be, a soldier.

'Come.' Treville knew it was one of his men, as the servants merely opened the door and entered, on the supposition that those inside would either lock the door if they wanted privacy, or simply cease to discuss anything they wished to remain private as soon as they entered.

The expression on Athos' face had Treville rising from his desk. 'What is wrong?'

The swordsman strode into the middle of the room and then stopped. 'I was walking around the outside of the lodge, getting an idea of the surroundings. There is broken glass at the rear of the building and a broken pane in one of the first floor windows, I suspect part of the servants' domain. It may be nothing but…' He shrugged his shoulders then waited for the Captain to speak.

Treville had been on the verge of boredom; even after assessing and reassessing their situation, there was very little else he could do. He had planned to walk around himself and check upon the men, but he knew Athos would have positioned them well. It still annoyed him that the man did not wear the pauldron he deserved upon his shoulder; the men listened to him and, apart from Deveaux, they did not question his instructions. Athos never ordered, he simply suggested, but it was enough. With this new information he wasted no more time.

'Show me.' The two men marched out of the room and made for the ground floor, coming across Duval on the way.

'I need someone who can easily identify a window from outside and tell us which room it is,' said the Captain. The man showed no emotion or surprise at the odd request. 'I will find Henri, he is one of the original members of staff, and will be able to answer your question.' Bowing, he turned and headed for the kitchens. By the time Treville and Athos reached the gravelled driveway, Henri was rushing out of the lodge entrance.

'Henri we need your assistance,' Treville explained. 'It appears there is a broken window at the rear of the building and we wish to know which room it belongs to.' The footman nodded and followed the two men around the exterior. The wind had increased in its ferocity, the branches now bent over, swaying violently, and the dark clouds that had been hovering in the distance had finally arrived, halting directly overhead – rain was imminent.

Reaching the spot where Athos had noted the glass, he identified the broken window for Henri. The young man peered up through the gloom and nodded.

'That is a storeroom. It holds extra supplies when there is a hunting party in residence but, though it is full, we have not needed to access it, as the lodge has only had residents for one day. I doubt we would begin to require those stores for another couple of weeks.'

Treville screwed up his eyes and gazed at the window.

'What lies on either side?' Athos asked.

'The meat pantry, and the dry store, herbs and flour and such,' Henri explained.

'So, those rooms would be constantly in use?' Athos continued. Henri did not need to consider the question.

'Of course, those rooms are needed for almost every meal; the kitchen maids or cook are in and out all day.' It was as Athos suspected. He looked at Treville.

'It was no accident. There are three windows accessible from these buttresses and the ledge beneath. If someone had broken into either of the other rooms, it would have been discovered quickly – there was even the risk they may be inhabited – but the room in the middle will not be opened and used for a week or more; ample time for whoever broke in to do whatever they planned to and escape, maybe using the same route to get back outside.

'Realisation registered upon the Captain's face. 'We need to look inside. We need to check if that window could have been opened by reaching through that small hole.' He made to move but Henri spoke.

'I can answer that for you, Captain. I happen to know that the windows can indeed be opened by making such a small hole. Some months ago, one of the kitchen maids went to the dry store to collect herbs. She had been gone some time and when we went to find her, we discovered someone had locked her in and she could not get out. She was panicking, as she does not like confined spaces and the room is small. Whilst someone went to find a spare key, another footman climbed up the buttresses here and made his way along the ledge. He broke one of the small panes and was able to put his hand inside and open the latch; the poor girl was quite beside herself and unable to help.'

'Who was the footman, the one who climbed up?' Athos asked, seemingly no more than curious. However, Henri was no fool; he understood the reason behind the question.

'Jean Paul. He is no longer with us; he left some weeks ago, without notice.' He spoke quietly but his words rang loud and clear, the message they inferred needing no further explanation.

'The King!' Treville shouted, and the three men ran back toward the front of the lodge, leaving Henri to report the breakage to Duval as they raced along the corridor, passing a very surprised Aramis and Porthos on their way, and soon there were four of them sprinting toward the royal apartments. They paused before the door and composed themselves briefly before Treville knocked and entered.

The sound of laughter reached their ears and they halted at the sight before them. The King had his arms around the lovely Suzanne, and he was showing her how to perfect her croquet swing; hitting the ball through a series of hoops that had somehow been erected in the large room.

The King looked up at the sudden entrance of the four men, noting they had obviously been running.

'Is something wrong, Treville?' For a moment the smile disappeared from his face and he appeared worried.

'It is possible we have an intruder in the lodge, Your Majesty. I would urge you to retire to your room until we have made a complete search of the building.' He expected the King to complain, or Richelieu to intervene, but neither spoke.

In the brief silence that followed Treville's announcement, the doors opened once more and the Queen swooped in, followed by her entourage. It was obvious she was upset.

'What is wrong, my dear?' the King asked, moving toward his wife.

'Angeline is missing. She went to her room to retire almost two hours ago and she has not been seen since; her necklace was found upon the floor, and the chain has been broken. I am afraid for her.' She held the fragile object aloft in her hands, all eyes transfixed upon the swinging locket.

Athos looked away and sought her out. She, too, was no longer watching the Queen, but was gazing at him. Her eyes held a strange expression; there was an urgency, a need, and he feared whatever it was she wished to impart, it would not be good.