CHAPTER 49
The Captain paused on the landing to his stairs and let his eyes sweep the musketeers assembled below for morning muster. He checked once, then twice and a trickle of concern flowed through his body when he did not see Athos amongst the assembled. He stomped down the remaining stairs with a mix of emotions. Had his proposition upset Athos so much that he had taken off?
As he walked towards the musketeers, Aramis stepped out of line to approach him.
"Captain. Athos isn't able to attend muster this morning. Last night, he developed a fever stemming from the infection that has set in in the wound on his thigh," Aramis informed his leader.
With an audible sigh of relief, Treville thanked Aramis and then with a nod, sent him back into line. Walking until he was front and center of his troops, Treville turned and addressed his men.
"As you may have heard, Lieutenant Roudon's father, the Comte du Champ, has died and Roudon has been recalled to his estate. As such, he has resigned his commission in the musketeers to serve his country in a new manner."
The Captain let a wave of muttering run its course before speaking again. "I know that there has been division in this troop that seems to be widening every day. For those of you who have studied history, you'll know that an Army divided cannot stand. Divisions within the ranks of an Army will defeat it quicker than any other enemy. The musketeers have too important a role, a sacred role, to be brought down by internal strife. So, let us clear the air, here and now."
Treville paused as he let his gaze wander across the men of his unit.
"There will always be the haves and have nots in this world. There will always be someone who is richer and someone who is poorer than you. Instead of focusing on differences, being envious of those above you or mocking those less fortunate, why not be content with who and where you are in this moment of time. History has taught us that role reversals can come swiftly and those once at the top can one day find themselves at the bottom. Let's not focus on who our parents were, or what role they played in society. Instead, let's focus on ourselves and the unique gifts each one of us brings to the table. Our own abilities."
Treville glanced around again and found he had an attentive audience.
"Some of us have a more formal education and others have been taught by the experience of life. Combine those two perspectives in a fighting force and you have one that is vastly superior to those who fight by traditional tactics only. The same goes for every skill that every one of you possess that is different than the man standing next to you. Don't judge, but instead use the power of all. You do that and I promise you gentlemen, the Musketeers will be an unstoppable force."
Taking a breath, Treville began to walk between the rows of his musketeers, catching an eye here, patting a shoulder there. "I chose each and every one of you for the unique talents you possess. And I know each of you comes with flaws too, as do I. However, we will work as a unit to strengthen our talents and help each other overcome our flaws. Together. As a team."
"Oi, Athos ain't gonna like that teaming part," Porthos leaned over and whispered to Aramis.
"He does like to be a lone wolf at times," Aramis acknowledged.
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger!" Captain Treville shouted as he moved back to stand front and center of his troops. His statement brought forth a wave of whoops from the musketeers, who clearly were being swayed by his speech.
After the cheers settled down, Treville went on with the business of the day. "Now, with Lieutenant Roudon's departure, I have an opening. I had hoped to announce the today, but…"
A voice rose from the back corner of the crowded, growing stronger as the speaker limped forward to stand face to face with Captain Treville.
"We came into the world like brother and brother; And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another," Athos quoted from Shakespeare though he doubted many would get the reference. A story of twins. A story of Athos and the Comte de la Fére.
Athos turned partially to face his Captain and partially to face the regiment. "You asked me last night to take over the Lieutenant's role. If you and my brothers will have me, I accept."
Treville nodded and held out his hand. He knew this was a tough decision and a huge step for the man in front of him. "Musketeers. I present to you your new Lieutenant. Lieutenant Athos."
Once again there was a murmuring through the crowd, some being in favor of their new Lieutenant and some skeptical. But that was OK with Treville. No leader is ever universally loved, the position often requires tough decisions that simply will not make everyone happy. But overall, the majority of the musketeers seemed to be approaching the idea open-mindedly.
Athos fully turned to face the regiment. "I take this position with some hesitancy being newer to this life than most of you. But I promise I will listen, learn and treat you all with the respect you deserve."
With that, Athos took his place amongst the men to wait for the assignments of the day to be handed out by Captain Treville. By the time the Captain was done, Athos was at the end of his physical limits but his pride kept him standing until he could collapse on 'their' table in the courtyard. Treville, wisely, put him on the injured list.
Head cradled in his folded arms on the table, Athos was still for so long that Aramis felt the overwhelming need to slip two fingers onto the pulse point on the swordsman's neck, which was not taken warmly.
"If you hope to use those fingers to eat dinner tonight, I expect you to remove them immediately from my person," Athos growled as the questing fingers rose from his neck to brush his forehead next.
"I don't even know how you made it from your room to here," Aramis exclaimed as he removed his hand and sat down next to Athos.
"Neither do I," Athos mumbled.
"You failed to mention," Aramis continued conversationally, "that Treville asked you to be his Lieutenant last night." He poured a glass of water for Athos and nudged it in his direction. "Sometimes it can be useful to be able to discuss a decision like that with your friends."
"Are you saying I shouldn't have accepted the position?" Athos queried as he wearily raised his head to look at his friends. And as hard as he tried, he couldn't keep a little hurt from creeping into his exhausted voice.
"Of course not," Aramis declared vehemently. "You're the perfect man for the job."
Porthos grinned at Athos and Aramis. "What he's saying is as your brothers, we should hear about stuff like that first. Before the rest of the rabble."
"And contrary to your belief, we can offer sound advice from time to time," Aramis concluded with a smile.
"I'll keep that…in mind," Athos promised as he dropped his head once more. After a few minutes of silence, he asked, "Do you think they will accept me?"
"Absolutely," Porthos replied without hesitancy. "You are perfect for this job, Athos, No one is more deserving. Not me. Not Aramis. No one."
"But you have been musketeers, soldiers, longer than I. Surely you must feel you'd be better for this Lieutenancy," Athos declared in an earnest voice.
"Let's be blunt. They ain't gonna follow me no matter how many pretty speeches Treville makes. When they see me, they see a slave," Porthos said frankly.
"That will change."
"Someday, Athos, I hope you're right."
"And as for me, I feel that a position such as a Lieutenant would require too much of my time that could be devoted to my other passions," Aramis stated as he picked some lint from the sleeve of his jacket before patting his luxurious locks.
"Chasing women," Porthos grumbled. "And being chased by unhappy husbands and fathers."
"I was thinking more of my study of the Good Book and my devotions to God and the church."
Porthos stared, and even Athos raised his head to give their friend a look of disbelief.
"Well, I suppose there are other activities too, that might be curtailed."
"Yeah, the Captain don't want his Lieutenant running though the street of Paris half-dressed being chased by the butcher's wife."
"I haven't slept with the butcher's wife." After a second, Aramis tacked on, "Is she very pretty?"
Porthos ignored him and asked Athos, "Are you sure about taking this position and having to deal with the likes of him?"
Wearily, Athos sighed, "Someone has to keep him in line I suppose. Help maintain a certain level of dignity in the regiment. Speaking of dignity, are there many people around?"
Porthos and Aramis scanned the courtyard finding it deserted.
"No."
Athos nodded. "Good. As my first official order I need you to discreetly help me back to my room. I can't walk that far without…assistance."
"Sure," Aramis said rising from the table. "Porthos, sling him over your shoulder."
"What part of the word discreet don't you understand?" Athos exclaimed.
"You asked the man who runs through Paris in his braies, or worse, to be discreet. Whaddya expect?" Porthos asked Athos with a grin. "Here, let me sling my arm under your shoulder."
Porthos walked over, helped Athos to his feet, slung his arm under the shorter man's shoulder and then took a step away from the table. His friend was in worse shape than he let on and Porthos found him supporting all of Athos weight which made him sag.
"I have to tell you, Athos, this would be easier if you let me put you over my…"
"No."
"How about if I get on the other side and…" Aramis began.
"No."
Aramis glanced over at Porthos and shrugged. "He's all yours. Good luck."
In the slowest and what had to be the most painful manner possible, Athos made it across the courtyard and at least in his mind, his dignity was intact. Treville, who had been silently watching unobserved from his porch wasn't so sure. He hoped his newly-minted Lieutenant would eventually learn it was no shame to accept a little help from one's friends.
"Time will tell," he said to the air as he walked back into his office.