The Loss

Chapter 8

The eruption shook the back alley. Stone from the street and the small shed behind a neighbouring property rained down.

"Porthos! Aramis!" came the worried shouts of Athos and D'Artagnan.

"We're fine," said Porthos coughing as he and Aramis extricated themselves from beneath the cart they had taken cover under.

Aramis approached the body of the assassin. Ramero was bleeding from where the gunshot to his side had winged him. He had been blown backwards by the explosion. His rich clothes were covered in dust. He coughed and smiled at the musketeers.

"It seems that I am to be your guest after all," he said, then hissed as Aramis pulled him roughly to his feet.

They brought the assassin to the Chatelet where he would await his hanging. Treville had indicated that it wouldn't be far off as the Red Guards took the still smirking Spaniard away.

"Momentito, por favor,"he said to the guards. "Musketeers – I think I should warn you, I've heard your names in my circles before. I haven't been assigned your card as of yet, but it will only be a matter of time before I kill you," he said.

Before the others could react, D'Artagnan drew back and punched the man in the face. He stumbled and fell into the arms of his jailers. Spitting blood, he glared at the Musketeers as he was led away.

"Glad you did that," said Porthos. "I woulda' killed him."

oOo

When they returned to the garrison they met up with Cornet, Francois and Etienne and exchanged reports.

"It turns out the assassin was hired by the nobleman's nephew. The nobleman had no heirs, and the nephew was eager to assume the man's place at court. He will have the six lives also added to his crimes. They will both pay," said Cornet, sorrow and satisfaction warring in his gaze.

oOo

The next day they gathered at the garrison's cemetery to lay Adam to rest.

Bernard arrived with Annette on his arm, his other hand holding Julien's. She looked dazed, but was reassured by a tight squeeze from Bernard. She smiled at Christine when they met, her eyes flashing when she was introduced to Aramis, who held Christine's arm protectively.

Treville stood before the grave, his ocean bright eyes boring into each of the men and family members gathered that morning.

"Adam," he said "was our brother. He proudly wore the blue of the uniform, living as an example to us all and the nephew he left behind. His final act was to selflessly try to protect an innocent young boy from an explosion in the marketplace."

Treville paused. "Adam was more than just a soldier; more than just a musketeer. He was a friend to so many who will miss his smiling face at every mealtime. He was an assistant in mischief making, and quick with a joke or a word of comfort to those in need. He was kind, and courteous. Those who knew him will miss him. Those who loved him will live on and carry his spirit with them always."

Christine shuddered and lent closer into Aramis, his arm pulling her tightly to him. D'Artagnan, Francois and Bernard's faces were all marked with silent tears.

"It is our duty to serve. For Adam, his service has ended in the truest display of our motto. All for one," said Treville.

"And one for all," the musketeers echoed.

As the service ended and the musketeers broke off, Annette approached Christine and Aramis.

"I want to thank you," she said, taking Christine's hand. "Bernard told me about all you did. Your support has really been –"

"Please," Christine interrupted. "Your brother was a great man. He died a hero. And I cared for him very much."

"But you didn't love him," she said casting a knowing glance at Aramis. "Adam knew. He told me so. A heart can only want what it wants," she said with a smile as she glanced behind her to where Bernard stood waiting, Julien in his arms. "He wanted you to be happy. That's what he always said – he only wanted you to be happy, and it looks as though you are."

"I am certain he wished the same for you," Christine said smiling.

Annette smiled back. "I am glad that we met," she said.

"As am I," Christine replied. "Perhaps, would it be alright if I stopped by sometime? I sometimes get overwhelmed spending most of my time split between the men at the garrison and those at court. I would very much enjoy spending some time with someone with good sense, if you'll allow it," Christine said nervously.

Annette beamed. "I should like that very much."

oOo

It was well after midnight when an urgent pounding woke those residing at the Rue St. Germain. Rain had begun to fall earlier that evening and it appeared as though it would last through the night.

Dressed in her shift and dressing gown, Christine ushered the staff back to their rooms and away from the foyer as Aramis approached the door in his breeches and unbuttoned shirt, his pistols drawn. He signalled for Christine to keep back.

The pounding sounded again, then "Dammit Aramis, open the door!"

Aramis flung the door open and Porthos, D'Artagnan and Athos entered.

"A little late for a stroll…are the taverns all shut down?" he asked, smirking at his soggy brothers. The grin disappeared from his face immediately at the looks on their faces.

"What is it?" Christine asked as she came forward, wrapping herself protectively around Aramis.

"Not here," said Athos.

"Come to my library," she said as she led the men to her room, bidding her servants good night. Aramis snagged a few bottles of wine and some glasses as they went. It looked as though it would be a long night, not a fun one.

Settled around the table in the library, the Comtesse stoked the fire as Aramis poured the wine.

"Now," he said, "Will you tell us what has you so on edge?"

Athos and Porthos glanced at each other – a bad sign, in Aramis' opinion.

"This was delivered to the garrison just after nightfall," said Porthos pulling a letter from his pocket. "And this one was left on your front step," he said glancing at Christine as he passed both pieces of paper to Aramis.

"It seems as though Ramero has escaped. The men guarding him were found slaughtered in his cell," said Athos.

Aramis read the letters and his eyes grew cold. "Maybe soon, but not yet musketeers," was written on the one that had been delivered to the garrison while "Not yet, hermano," was all that was written on the other.

Aramis crumpled the second letter in his fist.

"What do you think it means?" Christine asked quietly.

Athos closed his eyes and brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not sure," he said. "He had mentioned that he had heard of us before but he had not yet been assigned us as targets. This may have been a warning."

"That or it's another boast," offered D'Artagnan."He's showing that he can escape us."

Athos nodded. "Apparently this won't be the day we see him hang."

Aramis slammed a fist onto the table, shaking the glasses.

"Aramis," said Christine soothingly.

"He came here," he said with anger. "He came to your home," he said.

Christine paled slightly, but took his hand. "You said it yourself, the man is not an idiot. He's probably a long way from Paris," she said, squeezing his hand tightly.

Aramis' eyes blazed at Athos; one of their silent conversations ensued.

"I agree with Christine," said Athos. "I would take this as a note of bravado, but we won't ignore the threat. He has made it clear that he is watching us, but we are not yet his targets."

"Perhaps it's true as he says, that he only murders for the money," said D'Artagnan quietly.

"Nonetheless," said Athos, "With your permission Christine, we'd like to set up a watch on your property tonight. We'll take it in shifts."

"Of course," she said. "There should be two guest rooms prepared," she said "You can take turns watching from the landing by the stairs. There is no way to access the second floor without using the main staircase."

The musketeers nodded. Athos insisted he take the first watch and Porthos and D'Artagnan gratefully took the two rooms provided to them. The comfort of a warm room and soft bed did wonders to ease their anxiety.

oOo

Aramis lay awake, holding Christine in his arms.

"You're not sleeping," she whispered to him. He smiled and looked down at her.

"Neither are you," he said.

She kissed him and said, "What's wrong, mi tesoro?"

Aramis sighed. "It's nothing," he said brushing her hair back from her face.

"It's Ramero," she said, frowning at him. "He's far away from Paris now, my love. We are safe."

Aramis sighed and tightened his grip around her. "I know that, but Christine, he was here. He knows about you, where you live. We have no idea how long he has been watching us. He could have easily killed Athos or Porthos or any of the others that day. He's already taken Adam," he said bitterly.

Her brow furrowed and her eyes darkened at these words. "He will get his justice," she said fiercely, "But we will not let him cast his shadow over our lives," she said, brushing his hair back and taking his face in her hands.

"He is trying to play with us, Aramis," she said. "Whatever his note may mean, it will not stop us from living our lives."

"If he were to harm you…" he began but she cut him off.

"If anything, my love, we are now warned about him. Anything can happen in our lives, that's what makes them precious. We have no idea how much time we have been given in this life. I know you, Aramis. You know this. You will not live your life in fear. Your zest for life and your value of it were two of the reasons I fell in love with you," she said, her eyes bright as she stared into his.

Aramis grinned as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. He delicately traced his fingers along her jawline, down her neck and across her collarbone. Christine held her breath under the power of his gaze and the lightness of his touch.

"What else made you fall in love with me?" he asked seductively with a playful laugh in his voice as his lips began to follow the course of his fingers. Her sighs were answer enough as they made love throughout the remainder of the night, savouring every breath, every moment, every second that passed as they embraced passionately, fighting fear with the fire of love and life that they found in each other.

oOo

"I thought the plan was to get out of here," the hooded man muttered as he prepared the horse.

"Change of plans," said Ramero as he tucked something into his doublet. He settled his hat on his head and made to mount the horse, wincing slightly as the pain in his side flared from the recent gunshot wound.

"My employer says I'm supposed to get you out of Paris," the man insisted, taking hold of the horse's harness and preventing the assassin's departure.

"Your employer is dead. He is no longer my concern. Or yours," said Ramero as he drew his pistol and fired it at the hooded man. The man fell backwards against the stall, the life fleeing from him as he hit the ground.

"Tranquilamente…calmly," he whispered to the startled horse beneath him. "We have work to do, my friend. Work to do, musketeers to kill…but first, I need a drink," he said and with a nudge to the horse's side, he rode out of the stable leaving the still body of the hooded man silently seeping blood.

oOo