CHAPTER 12

As it turned out, Athos did end up in the stable that night. He'd gone to bed with his brethren and had fallen asleep, but as dawn neared, so did his nightmares. For once they were not of his brother and his wife, but rather of the new horror he had faced a few days ago. The battlefield. He was not a stupid man and understood his brain was trying to process the brutality he had seen, as well as his own actions simply to survive. But the images were horrendous and he woke with his heart pounding and his skin soaked with sweat.

Quietly, he sat up on the edge of the bed, then gazed about to see if he had disturbed his roommates. Thankfully, they were still asleep and he was glad he had not woken them so they could not ask him what was wrong. He needed solitude at the moment, not questions.

Silently, he drew on his boots, which were next to his bed, then rose. He glanced at his doublet, but he was still hot and could do without it. His eyes also fell on his weapons belt. Still new to his profession, he didn't see the need for it as he only planned to go to the fields and watch the horses. He would learn, soon enough, that a musketeer never goes anywhere without his weapons. Musketeers, the King's elite guard, were not universally loved, or even respected in some circles. Another lesson he would learn.

Heading through the darkened house, he made his way outside to the paddock behind the stable. Studying it, he saw his horse must have elected to stay in his stall and not let himself into the grassy fenced area. Roger's stall had two doors, one that opened to the stable and one to the paddock and the one to the outside didn't have bars. His horse could have easily opened the latch since the upper portion of the door had been left open to let in a breeze. Perhaps it was cooler inside or Roger was simply too tired for his tricks.

In the early light of dawn, Athos could see the horses peacefully grazing. He noted a group of them towards the left portion of the large grassy area, close to the small stream that ran through the property. He climbed over the railings, dropped to the other side and began moving in the direction of the horses. A few raised their heads with curiosity as he approached, but none scattered.

He gave a nearby chestnut mare a solid pat before moving forward and perching on a log near the stream. It was very tranquil by the babbling brook. Other than the munching of the grass by the horses and the sound of the trickling water, silence ruled the pasture as the sun rose on the horizon, painting the world once more with its golden rays.

The lands of the estate were gently rolling, so Athos heard the hoof beats before he actually saw the riders. Twenty of them, he quickly estimated, as they crested the hill in the distance. The mares around him had already lifted their heads, ears flickering in confusion, nostrils flaring. It was clear they did not know these strangers who were invading their meadow.

Athos didn't believe he'd been spotted yet and his gut told him he wanted to keep it that way. Grabbing the halter of the grey mare nearest him he used her as a shield. The mare was puzzled at first at what she was expected to do for the man tugged her forward, towards the barn, but then stepped backwards. Which way did he expect her to go? She stopped and turned her heads towards him.

On a hunch, he whispered, "Barn." Sure enough, when he dropped back by her shoulder, the mare kept moving forward, this time towards the stable.

The rest of the mares in the group gathered around them and began moving towards the barn too. It was perfect, for all the extra horse legs helped hide the set of human ones. Athos kept risking little peeks over the top of the mares' backs to keep tabs on the intruders on the hill. The riders were headed for the barn, but at a pace that seemed to indicate he hadn't been spotted yet.

Once he and the mares got to the barn, Athos stopped by the stall that held Roger. His black stallion was already hanging his head over the top of the door to see why so many beautiful mares were coming towards his stall. Athos tugged slightly on the mare's halter to get her to stop by the stall door. Obediently, she and the rest of the harem came to a halt.

"Don't get your hopes up," Athos chided his horse. He gave the mare a pat on the neck as he glanced out into the pasture to check the progress of the men.

The riders were more than halfway across the pasture and he saw they were picking up speed. Had he been spotted or were the men more anxious now that they could see their destination? Turning away, he hoisted himself over Roger's half door then moved across the stall to the other door that led into the aisle. Reaching between the bars, he worked the latch free and let himself into the aisle.

Noting that Roger was watching him with his ears partially laid back, Athos shrugged and smirked at the horse's frustration because the stallion couldn't unlatch the door. "Helps to have arms and hands." He gave the horse an understanding pat on the nose before closing the stall door.

He ran on the balls of his feet as silently as he could up the long aisle towards the office. As he heard the hoof beats outside drawing nearer, he tried to remember where the gate to the pasture was located. Near the stable's main door if he recalled, around the side where the fence abutted the barn. If they came into the barn, he would be discovered, something he didn't feel would be a good idea, so he scanned about for a place to hide. His eyes travelled to the chest in the office, big enough to hide a man. But he'd have to empty it and if these were thieves, there was a good chance they'd look for valuables in the chest, leaving him a sitting duck.

Having scanned the floor, his eyes went upwards, towards the open rafters. Not a bad place to hide or launch an ambush if necessary. Hearing the hoof beats growing louder and knowing his time was running out, he sprinted to the half partition of a wall, which set off an area where the carts were stored. Scaling the partition, he balanced on top, but could not reach the rafters overhead. Jumping down, he ran over to the tallest carriage in the room, the one no doubt used to train the team of golden horses for the King and Queen. It was a very high affair. He scrambled from the ground to the coachman's bench, and then to the top of the carriage roof.

Unfortunately, the vehicle was not directly under any of the wooden rafter beams. He was going to have to make a leap for the nearest one. In hindsight, he wished he'd brought his gloves and his weapons. He was learning a valuable lesson, albeit the hard way. With a grunt, he launched himself towards the beam and managed to get a good enough hold on it to pull the rest of his body up and onto it. Carefully, he stood and moved down the beam towards a dark corner and none too soon, as he heard the paddock gate crash open. The riders had arrived.