CHAPTER 40

Athos and Porthos clumped down the stairs heading toward their favorite table in the yard. Athos dropped heavily onto the wooden bench, crossed his forearms on the table and promptly buried his face in them. Porthos sat down across from him, poured two cups of water and shoved one in Athos' direction.

As Francis and Pierre left the stairs, a large group of musketeers made their way over to them and they began to converse in hushed tones. When Roudon made his way down, a hush fell over the group. At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped, his eyes roaming the courtyard until they found Athos. With determination, he strode across the dirt.

"Why don't you do the right thing and simply leave the regiment on your own? If you do that, I will overlook your insubordination," Roudon demanded, coming to a halt by the table. "For once, act like a gentleman."

"The fact he hasn't got up from the table and kicked your sorry ass says he's a gentleman to me," Porthos growled, as he rose to his feet. "I suggest you leave, 'cause I'm not a gentleman and I'd be happy to hit you. Hard. And repeatedly."

The crowd of musketeers along with Francis and Pierre moved closer to the table, listening.

All eyes were resting on Athos, waiting to see what he would do. When he simply sat as he was, head buried in his arms, Roudon walked over and shook Athos' shoulder. "I demand you show respect and look at me when I am talking to you."

Without raising his head, Athos intoned, "I didn't ask you to converse with me."

Roudon reached out to shake Athos again, but Porthos was quicker, his hand shooting out to stop Roudon.

"Don't touch him," Porthos growled, his menacing tone causing the hairs on Roudon's neck to vibrate.

Dropping his hand, he sneered. "You talk as if we are all equal yet you have this slave-trade reject fight your battles?"

Even if Porthos had wanted to react, Athos was quicker, the blade of his well-honed main-gauche flashing in the sunlight as he drew it with his left-hand, stood and pressed it against the sneering Roudon's throat.

"I'd suggest you consider you next words very carefully." The icy cold words were delivered barely above a whisper, but with the intensity of a tornado.

Roudon was not a stupid man and he quickly turned the situation to his advantage. In a loud voice he said, "See. You prove my point. Savage. You attack me like a common criminal with a blade. The only thing missing is a dark alley." Raising his voice another notch to ensure the whole crowd could hear, he added, "Go ahead. Do what you will, this time you won't be able to deny your actions. There are too many witnesses."

"Athos, it isn't worth it. He isn't worth it. Sheath your blade," Porthos half-requested, half-demanded, not sure which would work.

The world seemed to stand still for a few tense moments, the knife Athos was holding against Roudon's throat remained unwavering. Then, as swiftly as it appeared, the dagger disappeared back onto Athos' weapons belt.

"I advise you to be more circumspect in your future speech and treat Porthos with the respect and dignity he has not only earned as part of this regiment, but deserves as a man." With that, Athos dropped back down onto the bench, picked up the mug Porthos had poured him earlier and nonchalantly took a drink.

Turning towards the crowd of musketeers that had gathered, Roudon continued to spout his poison. "The musketeers were intended to be an elite group of warriors to protect our King and our Country." Someone from the back of the crowd gave a small cheer.

"France's best. God-loving. God-fearing. Catholic men." A slightly louder cheer arose from the crowd.

"Trustworthy men. Honest men. Men of integrity. Sons of the nobility!" An enthusiastic round of cheers rang through the courtyard once more at Roudon's rousing rhetoric.

Porthos shifted uneasily as he stood next to the table. "I don't like where this is going," he said softly to Athos, whose expression remained inscrutable as he took in the display.

Unbeknownst to both musketeers, their Captain and Aramis were quietly standing in the corner of the porch, observing. A shiver ran up Aramis' spine as he listened to the inflammatory words.

"We fight with honor and we die with honor. We understand sacrifice and we stand ready to serve. We are our King's sword and shield!"

The loudest cheer yet burst forth from the crowd, causing Captain Treville to frown. He gave the marksman a quick glance before focusing on the scene below. Things were getting out of hand.

Unaware he was being observed from the porch, Roudon continued. "Our leader, Captain Treville is noblesse militaire, his title comes not through right of blood, but has been honorably earned through his family's years of service to the King. It is an honor and a privilege to serve with such a fine commander."

"First smart thing he's ever said," Porthos muttered under his breath.

"The Captain has done a tremendous job getting the Regiment in order, selecting some of the finest talent in the land. And he had many great men to choose from, mighty sons of the nobility, flocking here to be part of this historic regiment."

The members of the crowd clapped each other on the back in congratulations as if they had just won some prize. Roudon had to raise his hands to get them to settle again.

By now, almost everyone in the garrison had turned out to listen. The audience was divided into distinct groupings. The nobility were clustered around Roudon, listening to his speech. Then there were smaller clumps of workers, near the area they served, such as the stables. Finally, there were scatterings of men, who were musketeers, but not nobility. These groups stood quietly on the outskirts of the main group, listening with apprehension. Many of these musketeers had thought they had blended in with their brethren, even though their birth circumstances were different. However, they were getting an uneasy feeling they had not been as successful as they had believed.

Finally, Roudon thought, he had his audience. He had been promoting his cause, quietly, for a while. He hadn't wanted to be overly vocal, wanting to be promoted to Lieutenant. While he felt Captain Treville had a blind spot when it came to recruitment, Roudon hadn't wanted to prejudice his chances. But now that he had been promoted and had held the position for a time, he felt it safe to continue his campaign. Surely, if enough of them protested to the Captain, he would see the error of his ways. How could the musketeers be an elite group of guards for the King if there were mongrels in their ranks?

"But within our ranks are those that don't belong. Men who don't fit the vision of an illustrious group of guards to protect France's most precious assets, her King and Queen. These men have behaviors that are undesirable, certainly not what one wants in the King's guards who are on display for the world to see."

Porthos glanced down at Athos to see how he was taking the rhetoric and found the man studying the table top, eyes hooded. A feeling made him look over his shoulder and up at the Captain's porch and he wasn't surprised when he saw Aramis standing there. What did surprise him was to see Captain Treville there too. He wondered how their commander would react to Roudon's speech.

"It is time, as noble sons of France, we rise up and tell our Captain what we feel and demand he do something about it!" A cheer went through Roudon's supporters, while those who were not enamored of his words began to worry.

Treville had heard enough and decided it was time to make his presence known and take control before this got out of hand. Aramis, sensing his Captain was about to do something, turned, made his way silently down the stairs and circled the fringe of Roudon's adherents to stand next to Porthos and the seated Athos.

"I'm getting' the feeling that my skin color is an undesirable behavior," Porthos softly said to Aramis.

"The color of your skin isn't a behavior," Aramis politely countered, "but, alas in Roudon's and his supporters' eyes I fear it is undesirable. Just as my discreet dalliances with women are not appreciated for the services they provide."

"There ain't nothing discreet about you and your women," Porthos rightly pointed out. More than once a jilted female or an irate husband had turned up at the garrison and demanded Aramis' hide.

Further conversation was halted by Captain Treville's voice ringing out over the courtyard. "I don't recall during muster that anyone's assignment for the day was to stand in the courtyard." Walking across the porch, he travelled down to the first landing and stopped. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

Roudon broke away from his supporters to move to the bottom of the staircase. "Problem is a strong word, though perhaps it is the right one. But for now, I see it more as a concern that needs to be addressed."

Even though Treville had overheard most of what Roudon had said and knew exactly what the concern was, he wanted to force the man to make his accusations to his face. It would give him an idea how serious Roudon was about his beliefs.

"Are you sure this is a conversation you want to have in such a public place?" Roudon asked of his Captain. By now, Roudon's supporters had moved to cluster around him once more and a quick head count showed it was more than three quarters of the regiment.

"If it is a concern that so many of my regiment have, then yes, I think a public discussion is the right course of action." Treville folded his arms across chest and waited.

"As we have already spoken of in your office, I demand that Athos be removed from the regiment for insubordination and striking a superior with malicious intent. These marks on my face and body were not given to me by the enemy, but by Athos, a man under my command who refused to follow orders. When I called him out, he viciously attacked me."

"That's hardly what happened," Aramis tried to protest, but he was drowned out by the crowd who were angrily murmuring. Eyes started scanning for Athos, who had been at the table, but had silently slipped away without anyone noticing.

"Where did he go?" Porthos wondered aloud. "He was just here."

"Out of sight, but listening, if he is smart," Aramis answered. "I have a feeling this isn't going to end well."

"You have already made these accusations in the privacy of my office. Is this gathering a way to force the issue into a larger venue?" Treville asked as he slowly descended the stairs. "Are you doubting my word that I will look into this matter?"

Even though the Captain had hit the nail squarely on the head, Roudon was smarter than to admit it so he took a different tactic. "It seems what I voiced in your office is a concern to more than just myself." He stretched his arms to emphasize the size of the gathered crowd. "It seems the majority of the regiment has concerns too."

Treville stopped at the foot of the stairs and scanned the large crowd that had gathered. Roudon was right, at least three quarters of the regiment had turned out to support his Lieutenant's position. Treville knew there was some level of discontent among the men about his controversial decision to bring soldiers who were not nobility into the musketeers, but he had no idea the numbers were this large. Originally, maybe, the number of doubters had been lower, but those who were sitting on the fence now had someone to rally around, and like sheep, they did.

He had hoped if he didn't make a big issue out of it and let the groups work side by side, that in time the nobility would see the value of their other brethren and accept them. But he could see now he had been naive in thinking that centuries of tradition could be overcome by such a simple plan as proximity. It wasn't like he had brought in bad soldiers, each one of them had skills that were superior to most. But it wasn't their skills that counted with the nobility. It was their blood, which couldn't be changed. It was ironic that the man Roudon was going after and making the figurehead of his campaign, was a noble himself of the highest rank. Not that that was going to be a help, since he had sworn he would keep Athos' secret, and he, Treville, was a man of his word.

But to be fair to Roudon, the Inseparables, as Aramis, Athos and Porthos had come to be known, while excellent fighters, did come with some baggage. And that is what needed to be addressed today, behavior not birthright.

"Lieutenant Roudon," Treville started out. "As the commander of the mission, duly appointed by me, you have the right to expect your orders to be obeyed. Striking an officer and failure to follow orders is certainly a matter that requires investigation. As such, I am interviewing each and every man who has knowledge of what transpired. After I have all the facts, I will render a decision and pronounce punishment as warranted." Treville made these remarks to the entire gathering, making sure to catch the eyes of many so there would be no doubt he was addressing them all.

"Until my investigation is complete and I have rendered a decision," his eyes settled on Roudon, "I expect everyone to go about their business as usual. Keep your speculations and theories to yourself."

"But Captain, is it fair that one man makes a decision that effects the entire regiment?" Roudon dared to ask.

"It is when it is the regiment's Captain, duly appointed by the King of France, to lead the musketeers. Consider it an order. One I expect to be followed," Treville declared in a firm voice. "Otherwise, I might find the need for further investigations." The threat was not lost on anyone listening.

Roudon, trying to recoup a bit of his advantage, made a slight bow to acknowledge the Captain's words. "We are sure, after your investigation, the truth will be known and proper steps taken to remedy the situation. Perhaps our thoughts that this matter had to be brought to another were premature."

Treville's blue eyes narrowed, the implied threat perceived. "I would advise that any action on this matter, not sanctioned by me, could be perceived as insubordination in its own right and therefore equally punishable."

An uneasy hush fell over the crowd.

"Enough time has been wasted. You all have duties. Get to them."

Slowly, the crowd dispersed, each musketeer going about his business, though Treville knew this was far from over. He had had his say, but Roudon's words were still heavily influencing many of the nobility amongst the musketeers. He was their Captain and nobility himself, but his nobility was earned by generations of service, not by centuries of birthright. The Captain wasn't a stupid man and he knew amongst the nobility there was a pecking order and a man such as himself was not considered high on that pole. This was shaping up to be more than it appeared on the surface.

Now that the crowd was gone, he could see Porthos and Aramis standing by their favorite table. "Where's Athos?" he demanded of them.

"He's," Aramis began his lie but the look he was given by Captain Treville made him change his mind. "I don't know. He was sitting here one moment and the next time I looked he was gone."

Treville looked at Porthos who nodded his concurrence.

"Find him, Aramis. I want to talk to him next. Porthos, my office, now." With that Treville sharply turned to make his way back to his office.

"What should I tell him? What did you tell him?" Porthos asked as he watched Treville leave.

"The truth," Aramis replied. "Tell him exactly what happened and he will see the real truth. The Captain is not stupid. Athos was wrong in some of what he did, but he had good cause. Captain Treville will come to that conclusion."

Porthos was quiet for a few minutes, lost on thought.

"I can see there is more on your mind, Porthos," Aramis gently pried.

"You know this is not about Athos' disobedience. Athos is the scapegoat Roudon is using to drive everyone who is not nobility out of the musketeers. It could as easily have been you or me."

"True. Athos beat us to the punch, literally and figurately, in rebelling against Roudon's narrow-mindedness," Aramis agreed.

"And it's funny, because of all of us, I've always believed Athos is nobility himself."

"Have you ever asked him?" Aramis inquired. "When you were in Dieppe?"

Porthos grew silent again, thinking. "I have thought it, by his bearing, but I never asked out of respect for his privacy. We all have things in our past we'd prefer not to talk about. I feel that is especially so with Athos. And given his reluctance to talk of his past, I have let it go."

Aramis understood Porthos' point of view, but he wondered if they might have to violate Athos' privacy, if it meant the difference between him staying or getting kicked out of the musketeers.

"Best you not keep Treville waiting and I go searching for our wayward friend. I'm feeling I have the worse end of this stick."

"You do," Porthos said as he walked away. "Good luck."

Aramis nodded. "I fear I will need it."