CHAPTER 48

The Captain tossed his hat on the bed as he passed by on the way to his desk. With a well-earned groan, he sank onto the hard, wooden chair behind his desk as his eyes swept across the disarray that was its surface. He did note on one side was a neat stack of opened correspondence that apparently Roudon had been staying on top of in his absence. On the upper left corner was a very small pile that was unread, probably yesterday's or today's delivery.

On top of the pile was a message with a seal he recognized and he reached forward to pick it up and open it. He read it once, twice, checked the seal in case his eyes were playing tricks on him, then read it a third and final time before folding it back up. 'God does love me', he thought to himself as he laid the letter back on the messy surface of his desk.

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The entire time while Aramis was doctoring Athos' wound, he and Porthos argued, begged, demanded, pleaded and cajoled their brother not to think of leaving. Whether any of their arguments registered at all with the swordsman was impossible to say. For other than a few grunts and winces Athos simply couldn't stifle, the musketeer remained stoic and stone-faced.

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Unlike the stoic Athos, Roudon moaned and carried on while the doctor examined him, acting as if death were standing at the door with his sickle to take him away. The medic cleaned the many shallow wounds finding only one that required needlework. All in all, it confirmed what the doctor had thought as he had watched the duel, that Athos was the better of the two swordsmen. The medic, who had served the Army for years, knew a thing or two about swordsmanship and wounds and what he saw on Roudon told him that Athos had been very circumspect with his sword.

When he was patched up, Roudon immediately left the infirmary to head to the Captain's office, even though it was earlier than the stipulated time. Roudon was committed to speaking his piece to the Captain first. However, his scheme was thwarted when he knocked on Treville's door and was told to wait outside until Athos arrived. Captain Treville wasn't stupid and he kept the man cooling his heels on the porch.

Roudon looked over the railing, highly annoyed at being kept waiting, even if it was by a superior officer. Glancing about the courtyard below, he saw no sign of Athos and he beat his fist against the wooden railing in frustration. He began to wonder, as he waited, if there was some way not only to get all the low-lives kicked out of the musketeers, but also the Captain himself. After all, Treville was the one who showed extremely poor judgement in letting men like Athos, Aramis, Porthos and the other common soldiers into the regiment in the first place. The Lieutenant's family was not without some influence with his Majesty, or at least that is what Roudon chose to believe. Maybe he and his father could petition the King to have Captain Treville removed and he, Roudon, made the head of his Majesty's Musketeers. Surely during his reign, albeit brief, while Captain Treville was gone, he proved he was more than up for the task.

It was this Roudon was contemplating when he saw the trio that was his nemesis coming across the courtyard. A feeling of pure loathing shook his frame as he looked down at Athos. Aramis and Porthos were bad enough, but Athos, the commoner impersonating a noble made Roudon want to pull out his pistol and shoot the man dead on the spot. Anywhere else, a commoner pretending to be nobility was punishable by law. Why not here?

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Aramis wasn't totally happy with the state of Athos' wounds, but at the allotted time, the swordsman rose, pushed Aramis' ministrations aside, pulled back on the clothing the medic had made him take off, buckled on his weapons belt and left in silence. Aramis followed after him, complaining he wasn't done yet, but he got no reaction from the departing musketeer. Porthos silently trailed along behind the duo until Athos got to the stairs that led to the Captain's office, then he deliberately upped his pace to get in front of Athos and make him stop.

"Don't be doing anything stupid and don't let your strange sense of honor, that puts everyone else in front of your own well-being, take over. You are not the bad guy here. The Captain knows that so don't you go putting him in a corner where he has no recourse but to kick you out of the musketeers." Reaching out, Porthos laid a hand on Athos' shoulder and captured those stubborn green eyes with his own equally stubborn brown ones. "Roudon is an asshole. The musketeers need men like you, not him. Don't you become the scapegoat."

With that, Porthos dropped his hand and took a step backwards. Athos scanned Porthos' face then Aramis', his own expression an odd mix of sadness and surprise.

"No one has ever had such faith in me," he said quietly as he turned and limped up the staircase towards where Roudon stood on the porch, waiting.

Silently, Aramis and Porthos watched their third disappear.

"Do you think…" Porthos started to ask but Aramis waved at him to be quiet.

"It's in the Captain's hands now."

With that, the marksman turned and headed towards what had become known as 'their' table in the courtyard. Perching on the table top, with Porthos next to him, Aramis stared at the Captain's porch, trying his best to curb his impatience and keep the depression and nausea that threaten to overcome him at bay.

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When Athos reached the top of the stairs, Roudon turned away and headed for the Captain's door. A knock and a reply later, and he entered the room. When he opened his mouth to speak, Captain Treville held up his hand to silence him. Athos limped into the room, quietly shutting the door behind him before he moved to stand a few feet from the other two. Athos' face was a blank slate giving no indication of his feelings. Roudon's facade on the other hand was an open book; he had no intention of losing this fight.

Captain Treville didn't say a word, but picked up the document he'd been reading from his desk and moved towards Roudon. "It is with my deepest sympathy that I must inform you of your father's death."

Roudon's mouth, which was already partially open ready to make his first rebuttal, stuttered a few nonsensical syllables as he tried to process the unexpected news.

"This missive just arrived. It says your father was thrown from his horse at a hunt and died later that night from his injuries. There was no time to get a rider to you before his demise. You are being recalled immediately to the estate to take over your rightful place as the Comte. You are to pack your things, make a stop at the palace to see the King and then head back to the estate to inter your father."

Roudon still stood there as if struck by lightning. "Dead," he finally managed to eke out. This was something he had not expected. When he had left to serve as a musketeer, his father had been in excellent health, fit as a fiddle. Roudon had not expected to be the Comte for many years.

"Again, I am sorry for your loss. You have loyally served your time in protecting your King and Country in the musketeers, but now you must leave and serve his Majesty as one of his trusted nobles."

To his credit, Treville maintained the dignity required by the situation, even though it felt forced. After all, a man had died. However, Treville did shudder when he stopped to think of the havoc Roudon could cause as a trusted advisor to the King.

Slowly, wrapping his head around the Captain's words, Roudon theatrically bowed his head. "My father was a good man and a good father. This tragedy has cut him down in his prime. As much as I have devoted myself to protecting his Majesty as a musketeer, it is now my duty, as a son of the nobility, to take my father's place and help run this country."

Treville wasn't so sure that the King, his council and especially Cardinal Richelieu would exactly feel the same way, but he kept his own counsel to himself. Athos, already a rightful heir thought to himself that Roudon was in for a surprise at how little power the King truly granted the nobility.

Raising his head and brushing what was surely an imaginary tear aside, Roudon continued. "Captain, I hand in my resignation as of this moment. I must see my King and then be swiftly away to my poor mother's side who has been left all alone in this world."

Giving Athos a hard glare, he added, "As much as I feel it is my duty to stay here and make sure he," Roudon pointed a finger at Athos, "is punished in the matter befitting his crime, alas, duty to my King and family outweighs all." Turning back to face Treville he said, "I trust you Captain to make sure this man is dealt with in the appropriate manner."

With a nod to himself, Roudon spun around and headed for the door. "I will pack what I need for the journey and send for the rest later. Any papers you need me to sign send along with the rest of my personal belongings." Opening the door, he turned one last time to face Captain Treville and Athos. "Be sure I will let the King know what is going on here with certain musketeers. I consider it my duty as his Majesty's newest and well-trusted Comte." With that, he turned and left the Captain's office.

With a sad shake of his heard, Treville moved towards the cabinet where he kept his liquor. Pulling out a bottle and two glasses, he mused, "What a strange web fate weaves." Pouring a measure in each glass, he handed one to Athos, then gestured for him to sit.

"Sit, before you fall over, Athos. You have been sorely abused today. It's hard to believe Rodon did that much damage. You are the better swordsman by far."

"In a fair fight, yes," Athos conceded after taking a sip of the amber liquid and feeling it burn down his throat. "But I spent the whole morning fighting to keep Stephen and myself alive after Roudon abandon us to the mercenaries." Tossing back the rest of the brandy in one swallow, Athos dropped the glass on the nearby table and bowed his head, his voice was rough with emotion. "I was not successful and Stephen is dead. Yet the irony of our Lord has me surviving. What does He want from me!"

Treville knew enough about Athos' life and could surmise many of the pieces he might be missing. He was also a fairly astute judge of the human psyche, something that had been very useful in his military career and diplomatic dealings with royalty over the years. He had to admit Athos was a tough nut to crack, but he wasn't totally clueless on how best to handle the man, so he answered Athos' question.

"He wants you to remember that there are people in this world who respect and need you, as much as you need them. Two of them are out there in that courtyard right now. I am sure they already have plans to make sure no matter what, you three stay together, even if it means they leave the musketeers."

Athos raised his head and gave his Captain a sharp look. "Surely they would not be so stupid as to give up their own careers for me."

Treville couldn't help laughing at Athos' comment, though he felt a little bad at doing so. "Surely you are not that stupid. Would you not do everything in your power to help them? Even risk your own life for theirs?"

The look Athos gave him confirmed it all.

"And trust me, they would do the same for you. That motto, 'All for one and one for all', I have never heard them use it before you joined the ranks. I hate to admit it because you all are a pain in my ass, but I have never seen three men better suited to be a team. Your skills complement each other, your temperaments…" he paused a moment, "mostly keep you all balanced and levelheaded. And your loyalty, to each other, to this regiment and to your King and Country, is unmatched."

Treville could see Athos was absorbing what he was saying, wanting to believe in his words. But the Captain could also sense as much as the swordsman wanted to trust, a darkness from within him was holding him back.

"So, now we have to figure out how to move forward."

"I will re…" Athos started to say before Treville cut him off.

"The death of Roudon's father and his recall to the estate came at a very fortuitous moment." Treville ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. "My gut tells me, however, this is not the last we will hear from the man. I fear he will use his new position to cause trouble for the musketeers and especially you, Athos. You have made a dangerous enemy." Sighing, he added, "But we will cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Roudon shouldn't even be the heir to that estate," Athos said in a slow and deliberate tone.

Captain Treville looked at him curiously. "Are you saying that he is not the Comte's son? How would you know something like that?"

Giving one of those inscrutable shrugs he had so perfected, Athos replied obscurely, "They are more than just wallpaper."

Treville noted that Athos had not answered his question, but given what he knew of the man, it was probably the closest thing he was going to get to an answer.

"Roudon was the leader of the…nobility-only movement. With him gone and some care, I think the others will learn to accept what you have created, Captain. An all-inclusive regiment." The hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Athos' mouth. "It is a good concept even though I fear some of us have made it somewhat more…difficult… for you to employ at times."

The Captain rose from his chair, walked over to where he'd left the brandy decanter and brought it back to refill their glasses. After placing the bottle back in the cabinet, he said, "I don't suppose you are willing to tell the world of your true heritage?"

Walking back to his chair, the Captain already knew the answer he'd receive by the stiffening that occurred in Athos' frame. Settling back into his own chair with his drink in hand, he watched as Athos' struggled to overcome the intense emotions that were coursing through his body.

In a tight voice, Athos eked out, "That ship has sailed."

"Ships have been known to turn about."

"Then think of the ship as sunk. In a deep, dark, crevice in the ocean, never to rise again. The Comte de la Fère is no more," Athos said with finality as he took a drink from the newly refilled glass as if to seal his statement.

Captain Treville, older and wiser, had a feeling that someday that statement would prove to be false, but for now he kept his own counsel on the matter. Instead, he made a different announcement. "Athos, I am appointing you as my new Lieutenant to fill the position recently vacated by Roudon," Treville watched as the declaration sank in to the man sitting across from him and when it did, Athos nearly dropped the glass of brandy in his hand.

"You are joking. That is the stupidest damn idea I have ever heard," the swordsman blurted out.

"As my Lieutenant, I will allow you some leeway to express your own thoughts on matters. However, I do expect if you have a dissenting opinion, it will be presented in, shall we say a more diplomatic manner," Treville said drily, suppressing the grin that threaten to overtake his face.

"No disrespect intended, Captain," Athos responded sincerely. "But really, that is a terrible idea. No one will follow me."

"Athos, half of the musketeers already do. And, they respect you," Treville countered the swordsman.

Slowly shaking his head, Athos took another mouthful of brandy. "They may respect my ability with a sword. But as for the drunk that shows up for muster, I hardly think so."

"The rules remain the same. You are not to be drunk when you are on duty. I will court martial you and throw you back into the street where I found you if I ever feel your drinking has endangered the life of my…our men."

Athos lowered his eyes and nodded, fully agreeing with the Captain's message. He would never allow his personal demons to cause harm to others. He'd rather die first.

He grew still as his mind pondered. He couldn't accept this position. How many times had he been put down by his father, been looked at as second-best to his brother, been deceived by people like his wife. How could a man such as he be trusted! He wasn't fit to be a Comte and he wasn't fit to lead musketeers.

He was about to open his mouth to say no and tender up his resignation when Treville quietly spoke. "I trust you, son. With the lives of my men and with my own."

Trust. Son. Those two small words hit Athos like a ton of bricks. For once, Athos' face showed his true emotions, that he was overwhelmed by Treville's words. It had been so long, a life-time, since someone had been willing to show the faith, the trust that Captain Treville had just bestowed upon him. Another feeling hit him, one that hadn't been a part of Athos for a very long time…hope.

Still, the dark demons that had been beaten into him for years tried to surge forth and he found himself saying, "Surely Porthos, Aramis, or a dozen other musketeers who have been here longer than I have should be given this position."

"This is not about length of service, but about having the ability to do what needs to be done. And Athos, you have the innate gift to lead people."

That made Athos let forth with a bitter laugh. "I fear Captain, you need to remove your blinders and see who I really am. No, you should offer this to Aramis. Perhaps the regiment isn't quite ready to be led by Porthos yet, which is a shame for he'd do a good job. But Aramis is well-liked and has a good head for soldiering."

"Aramis and Porthos are both good men as are others in the regiment. But I am offering the position to you. You don't need to be the Comte de la Fère to get men to follow you. They will follow Athos the swordsman too."

"Athos, whose father wished he'd been born a second son, or perhaps not at all. Athos, who disappointed his mother by not being a dutiful son. Athos, who couldn't keep safe his baby brother. Athos, whose wife murdered his only brother. Athos, who condemned the love of his life to death. Athos, who can't resist the lure of the bottle," Athos listed his sins bitterly.

"You are only defined by those things if you let them have power over you. Fathers and sons often don't see eye-to-eye. Sons frequently disappoint their mothers. You didn't know when you fell in love with your wife that she was a bad seed. You didn't kill your brother and you did your duty by hanging his murderer. And as for the bottle, you can conquer it, all your demons, if you put your mind, heart and soul into succeeding and…" he paused a second to be sure he caught Athos' eye, "if you open yourself up, just a little, to people, like Aramis, Porthos, and myself. Have a little trust in your fellow man and a little faith in your God."

The room grew quiet as Treville having said his peace, settled deeper in his chair to wait Athos' final decision. It was now up to Athos to be willing to take a step of faith and accept the role he was being offered.

Before slumping back in his chair, Athos took the half-full glass he'd forgotten he was holding and placed it on the nearby table. Exhaustion swept over his body as his mind tried to work through all that had occurred here; what he was being offered. A chance. At a new life. To make a difference in an even bigger way than just being a musketeer. To take responsibility for not just himself but those around him who were in his command. To hold their lives in his hands, keep them safe. It was much being asked of him.

Treville watched the man in front of him struggle, which was extraordinary for Athos usually was adept at keeping the world at bay when it came to his emotions. It made the Captain realized Athos must be very off-kilter, mentally and physically, to allow such glimpse into his soul. Perhaps, a decision made under these conditions would be very unwise. An abuse of trust. Given the swordsman's vulnerability at this moment, Treville had no doubt he could literally force Athos into saying yes. But is that really what he wanted to do to the young man who had had so many people abuse his trust in the past? No, Treville decided and he eased off, a little.

"Athos. I realize you have been through a lot. The battle, the events at the horse farm, your capture, the death of your friend, my absence, Roudon," he listed the events of the recent months. "You are injured, exhausted and I have put forth to you a life-changing proposition." Leaning forward and extruding as much confidence and compassion as he could, Treville went on to say, "It is unfair for me to expect you to give me an answer now. Take some time. Think upon what I have said. Let those walls down a little. You'll see what I am saying is true. You are a leader. Your country and your fellow soldiers need you to step up and do what you were born to do."

"I was born the son of a Comte," Athos said, a twinge of sadness coloring his tone.

"You were born a leader of men. Leading an estate. Leading musketeers. Really, it's not that different. Well, except the creature comforts. You'll lead a harder life as a musketeer than a Comte. But which one will give you satisfaction?"

Athos thought about that a moment before darkly muttering, "I am not sure anything can give me satisfaction."

"Then what will be better for your King and Country. Comte or musketeer? You are still a citizen of France."

Athos picked up the glass on the table, finished the contents then rose as he put it back down. "I shall think upon what you have asked."

"Thank you," Treville said quietly.

After a simple nod, Athos turned and limped from the room.