CHAPTER 38

It really wasn't his fault he tried to rationalize as he pulled his hat even lower over his forehead. He'd been soaking in the tub when Serge showed up with a tray of food and a bottle of wine. Athos had tried to resist, had tried to keep his promise to Captain Treville. The bottle had been sitting there, next to the tub as he soaked, and he ignored it, even though as he languished in the warm water, he'd grown thirsty. A clever man had designed these copper tubs with a firebox below them, where, if stacked correctly, the firewood would smolder and keep the water hot, but not boiling, for hours. And George, who had arranged the tub for Athos, was an expert.

Athos had eaten the food as he lay in the hot bath, the water soothing his physical aches but doing nothing for his mental well-being, except making him sleepy. At one point he must have drifted off in the warm cocoon of water. His body relaxed, but his mind went into full gear, throwing nightmares at him which riddled him with guilt, remorse and shame. He started awake with a jolt that sloshed water over the edge of the tub onto the embers below and suddenly he was in a steam-filled room. The air grew hot and his throat tightened; he felt like drawing breath was a herculean task and he gasped like a fish out of water.

Finally, the water in the tub stopped sloshing over the edge, the steam abated and Athos was able to breath in a more normal fashion, though he was still panting a bit. The wine bottle, which he had resisted, came into view as it sat on the table near the tub where Serge had left it. His willpower fled. Grabbing the bottle, he tore away the cork with his teeth, spit it aside and guzzled down the wine.

One bottle of wine would have hardly been enough to put more than a little buzz on the experienced drinker. But if you added on top of the wine, his injuries, the heat of the room and exhaustion, it was enough to knock Athos off balance. He stumbled from the tub and landed on the floor with a thump. The small part of his brain which still had the ability to process rational thoughts prodded him to rise; passing out naked in the washroom was probably not a good move.

With a groan, he dropped the empty bottle in the tub and struggled to his feet on the water-soaked floor, using the edge of the copper tub for leverage. Unsteadily, he wobbled across the slick stones to where he'd left the towels. After a few unsuccessful attempts he managed to get one towel secured around his waist. The thought of curling up in a ball on the floor and passing out crossed his muddled mind once more, but he forced himself to keep moving.

Shuffling his way to the door, he yanked it open and stepped into the night air. Though it was by no means cold, still it felt chilly on his overheated body. Fumbling his way along, he headed for his room, instinctively staying to the shadows. Luck was on his side and he made it all the way without being seen by a single person, though had he any idea of the time it wouldn't have seemed like such a surprise.

In the sanctity of his room, behind a closed, locked door, he sank onto his bed. Again, his intentions were well-meaning, but as he lay on his back on the rumpled blankets, his hand draped over the edge of the bed, fingers bumping into the smooth glass of a bottle. As if under a power of their own, his fingers closed around the neck of the green bottle as his arm raised it to eye level. Nearly full, his brain registered as it came into eye-view and before he knew it the nectar inside was sliding down his parched throat. And so, his promise to Captain Treville had been broken and he stood in the morning sun, in the courtyard, hat drawn low over his aching head.

Porthos and Aramis, standing to either side of the hungover musketeer, were suffering through guilt pangs of their own. They had had every intention of keeping an eye out for Athos' return, and after their dinner, they had gone to Aramis' room to wait and watch. But fatigue from their recent journey overwhelmed them and they drifted off into a deep sleep that didn't release them from its grip until the next morning when a stray shaft of sunlight crept into the room and tickled them. When they finally roused enough to have a coherent thought, they realized what had happened and that they were going to be late for muster if they didn't hurry.

They had been relieved when they slid into the courtyard, immediately spotting their third, who was wincing at the normal sounds of the day under his low drawn hat. But there had been no time for greetings, let alone the tons of questions on their lips, for Captain Treville came stomping down his stairs looking distinctly unhappy. His piercing blue eyes scanned the regiment, lingering for a second on Athos before moving onward. Then, with his usual efficiency, he handed out the assignments for the day. Athos, Porthos, Aramis, Roudon, Francis and Pierre were instructed to go to his office and wait for him. Five of them exchanged uneasy glances, while Athos simply yanked his hat further over his forehead and then walked across the dirt toward the staircase.

The musketeers assembled in the Captain's office. When Treville joined them he instantly noted they were separated into two camps; Roudon, Francis and Pierre to one side and Athos, Aramis and Porthos on the other. Interestingly, Athos, while part of the second grouping also somehow gave the appearance of being not quite part of them. Treville shut the door behind him then moved across the room toward his desk. Standing beside the large, somewhat messy desk, he ran a critical eye over the assembled men, wishing he was anywhere but here. What he was about to do, had to do, was necessary. Discipline was key to operating a military unit. But his gut told him there was more, much more, to this situation than appeared on the surface. It also told him this was the apex of a deeper more fundamental issue that had been brewing since the formation of the musketeers. Ironic, he supposed, that it was being brought to light by the one person who should have been on the opposing side.

"Athos," he called out as he moved from the side of the oaken desk to stand in front of aforementioned man. "Have you been drinking?"

The man stood silently in front of him, his watery, blood-shot eyes fixed on some imaginary spot on the far wall. A verbal answer to the question really wasn't necessary.

"There were certain, conditions, set upon you when you joined this regiment," Treville reminded Athos in a low voice that contained elements of seriousness and sorrow.

Porthos and Aramis were close enough to hear the exchange and they glanced at each other with puzzlement. They hadn't been aware of any conditions on Athos' acceptance into the musketeers. Though, given the private nature of the man, it really shouldn't have surprised them at all that he had never mentioned it.

"And I have not forsaken what I promised," Athos replied, with voice somewhat rusty from lack of use. "Am I on duty?"

Treville eyes narrowed as he slowly answered, "No. Not yet I suppose, as I have not given you an assignment. Though technically," he added, "to be a musketeer means you are always ready to defend King and Country."

Athos gave a slight head tilt to acknowledge the point. "And technically," Athos replied emphasizing the word, "I am not incapacitated and am ready for duty."

"You're drunk!"

"Hungover, yes. Drunk to the point where I cannot carry out my duties, no."

"For a man of few words, you certainly know how to twist the ones you choose to speak," Treville groused softly under his breath.

Roudon, who was intently watching from the other side of the office could remain silent no longer. "This is why he and his kind should be drummed out of the unit."

His Lieutenant's words made Treville remember what was at stake here today was much larger than a possibly broken promise. What was at stake here today could not only fracture the regiment, but also ruin a man.

Captain Treville took a few steps back towards the middle of the room so he could address everyone as a group.

"Athos. Lieutenant Roudon has accused you of insubordination, failure to follow orders and striking a superior officer. These are serious accusations if they are true."

"Of course, they're true," Roudon interjected. "Francis and Pierre will testify and even those two," he gestured towards Porthos and Aramis, "should they be inclined not to imperil their immortal souls, know it to be the truth."

Captain Treville ignored Roudon's outburst, focusing his attention back on Athos. "Is there truth in these accusations?"

Athos shifted his solemn green eyes from the spot on the wall to his Captain's face. "Is it insubordination not to follow orders that are not well thought-out and bordering on the edge of stupidity?"

Roudon took a few steps towards Athos, his face flushed with anger. "This is an outrage. Who are you, some common soldier, to question my orders? There were reasons for my orders, which because of your limited intelligence you may not be able to comprehend. However, you are still expected to follow them to the letter."

"While you may not have agreed with Lieutenant's Roudon's orders, a soldier is expected to obey his commander," Treville declared. While he could appreciate Athos' sentiments, an Army was run on rank and structure.

"And an officer has a duty to ensure his orders are as sound as the situation allows, considering the welfare of the mission as well as the welfare of his men," Athos retorted mildly, though his eyes held a gleam of anger.

"This is getting us nowhere. Athos struck me, more than once. He was derelict with his duties. He disobeyed my orders, repeatedly, and he was disrespectful of my position as his superior. I want him court-martialed and sent to prison!" Roudon finished with a flourish.

"Prison!" Aramis broke in angrily. "That's ridiculous!"

Before Treville could intervene, Roudon turned on Aramis and Porthos. "And these two were scarcely better. Though given their circumstances I suppose one might be charitable. Still, one has to think of the regiment."

"How come I feel like we've just been insulted?" Porthos muttered under his breath causing Aramis to smile and Treville to glance his way sharply.

"Given your circumstances, I'm surprised you figured that out," Aramis dolefully whispered back sarcastically.

Before things got any further out of hand, Captain Treville resumed control. "There is only one person in this room who will be making any decisions on these matters and that is me."

Roudon appeared to want to contradict that statement, but Treville didn't let him.

"I have heard your accusations as well as Francis' and Pierre's statements. I will now talk to Aramis, Porthos and Athos before I render any sort of decision." Treville let his gaze touch each one of them to make sure his point was taken.

Roudon, scowling, was clearly unhappy, as were his two henchmen. Aramis and Porthos also appeared unsettled. Yet Athos, who stood to lose the most, wore that inscrutable expression that drove his friends and enemies alike to distraction.

"Aramis stays. The rest of you, out. Porthos. Athos. Stay in the courtyard until I call for you." Treville dismissed them with a curt nod before turning his back on them to walk behind his desk.

Silently, Porthos clapped Aramis on the shoulder before following Athos out the door. Francis and Pierre went next, but Roudon maintained his place for a moment.

"Captain Treville. I respect this regiment, and the King has no more loyal subject than I. I also hold you in high regard and it is because of this that I am troubled so much by the decisions you have been making in regards to staffing this elite group. And this is why you have to reconsider some of your actions and cull the unit of those that will bring it down."

Treville turned around to look at Roudon with a neutral expression on his face.

"Don't take this as a sign of disrespect, but if you don't severely punish Athos and make other changes, I am afraid it will be my duty, along with those that believe as I do, to petition the King." With that, Roudon spun on his heels and swiftly left the room.

Treville glanced over at Aramis to see his reaction to Roudon's statement and he was met with a lazy smile. "It's certainly difficult to see any disrespect in what Roudon said, isn't it, Captain."

Treville ignored the sarcastic comment and simply said, "Tell me what happened on a simple mission to pick up some horses."