CHAPTER 41

Porthos burst through the Captain's door announcing, "This is my fault. Kick me out of the regiment."

The Captain kept a small smile from appearing on his face. "No one is going anywhere, though the thought of me retiring to the country has an appeal at the moment."

"You, quit?" Porthos made a rude noise. "Don't see that happening."

Now the small grin did surface. "Probably not, unless the King dismisses me."

"Never gonna happen," Porthos vehemently declared. "The King loves you."

"The King loves himself and merely tolerates the rest of the world." The Captain cleared his throat as if embarrassed by his semi-treasonous utterance. "To the matter at hand. I'm gathering that your mission under Lieutenant Roudon did not go smoothly."

Once again, Porthos' face hardened. "It's all my fault, not Athos'. I disrespected Roudon and am ready to face whatever discipline you declare. But Athos is innocent."

"Innocent? Are you saying Athos didn't strike Lieutenant Roudon? More than once?"

Porthos shifted his weight, clearly not wishing to answer that direct question.

"Come on, Porthos. Aramis already told me."

"He deserved it. I should have decked him myself."

"No, you shouldn't have, and Athos shouldn't have either. Though, it seems there might have been some mitigating circumstances," Treville admitted.

"If by mitigating circumstances you mean Roudon was being an ass, you are right."

Walking behind his desk, Captain Treville lowered himself into his chair. "You are an outstanding soldier. Courageous. Loyal. You can go far."

"Men will never follow me because of my skin color," Porthos interjected a little bitterly.

Treville sighed loudly. "People often irrationally fear things that are different from themselves."

"Oi. Even though I am the best fighter out of the lot of them. I could break them. But they don't fear me for that, for my strength, or my cunning. They fear me because I wasn't born a noble."

"Is it really that bad for you in the regiment?"

Porthos hesitated for a moment before answering his Captain's question. "You have always treated me fairly. And a handful of the other musketeers. The help, always. Serge complains about me eating too much, but he always gets me seconds, and even thirds. But the rest…" He shook his head. "I just keep reminding myself I am good and I have the right to belong here."

"And you do. I only pick the best. You are one of them."

Porthos swung his arm in an arc. "But you picked them."

Treville gave him a sad, half-smile. "Some, yes. Some no. Remember, I too take orders. From the King. And these days it seems like the Cardinal too." Once again, he sighed loudly. "I hope someday everyone can see in you what I and many others see."

"And for the rest? Those nobles out there that think I should be bringing them their horses, not riding shoulder to shoulder with them?"

Treville simply looked at him. He didn't need to speak the answer for they both knew.

"Ya, what I thought."

Bringing the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about, Treville asked, "Athos said he was the one that hit Roudon. Is that true?"

All the air seemed to depart from Porthos body and he sagged a little. "Yeah, he did. Defending me. Roudon was being an ass. Athos got fed up and slugged him. He told me, warned me not to rise to Roudon's bait and then he goes and does it himself."

"Because you are a good man who shouldn't be treated the way it appears Roudon did. And because Athos, for the short time I have known him, has an incredibly strong sense of honor, that I fear, will often lead him into trouble."

"Seems to me bein' honorable is a good thing," Porthos stated, defending his friend.

"Even a good thing can be carried too far."

"So, you are siding with him? Sayin' Roudon was right?" Porthos accused his Captain.

"No, what I am saying is, Athos was wrong, striking a superior officer. He could have handled it other ways."

Porthos shook his curly head. "You weren't there."

"I wasn't. But are you telling me Athos had no other course of action? He couldn't have simply walked away. Brought this matter to my attention upon your return?"

Porthos remained silent, but his opinion was clear as day on his face.

Treville gave a little nod to himself. "Thank you. You're dismissed."

But the streetfighter didn't move. "What are you going to do?" he demanded of Treville.

Now it was Treville's turn to remain silent.

Seeing his Captain was not going to say any more, Porthos turned sharply and stomped towards the door. Before he exited, he turned and said, "My mother was a slave who fought every day to give me a better life. She died trying to do that. I won't be run off by any of these nobles. But, if you do something to Athos, because he defended me, I will leave, because then I'll have lost all respect for the one noble here who I thought was above all this nonsense." With that, Porthos exited, slamming the door behind him.

Treville rubbed a weary hand over his weather-hewn face. "If only you knew Porthos, the surprises of your past. I wonder if you'd feel differently about me."