Chapter VI
The small company reached the Garrison two days later late at night. Elise had somehow fallen asleep on the horse, her head thrown back against Porthos's chest. He was amazed at her ability to sleep in such a precarious position but again, she had had a rather rough couple of days. The courtyard was empty except for the two guards at the gate.
"Wake up, Elise. We've arrived," Porthos said as he slowed his horse to a stop. She opened her eyes, forgetting that one of them was still quite tender after the blow she had suffered. It hurt. She put her healthy arm on Aramis's shoulder as he helped her off the horse. She was glad the ride was over. She had never travelled for so long on horseback and her body was sore from it.
"Is the Captain here?" Aramis asked. A guard nodded. Supporting the young girl with one arm around her waist, they went up the stairs to the Captain's office. Inside, they found him standing around a table with Athos and d'Artagnan. They were studying a map.
"You are here at last. I was expecting you sooner. What held you up?" Captain Tréville was ready to confront his nephew on whatever new absurdity he had done, but fell silent when he took on the newly arrived guests. He was not overly surprised by the new battle bruises on Porthos's face or by the bandage on Aramis's hand. He was shocked to see his niece, held up tight against Aramis, Porthos's cape draped around her shoulders, and one side of her face as blue as a midnight sky.
"Elise? Why are you here? Where is your brother?"
She was so relieved to finally see a familiar face she could trust. Of course, she completely trusted the two Musketeers since they had saved her life and had taken good care of her these past days. But they were not family. Without saying a word, she broke free from Aramis's arms and crossed the room to find refuge in her uncle's embrace.
"They're dead! They're all dead!" she managed to choke. The words burnt in her mouth; She wanted them to be lies.
"Who has died? What are you talking about?"
"I believe she should rest. She has been quite shaken," Aramis suggested. "You might also want to send for a surgeon to check on her wounds."
"Her wounds? What have you done with her?" the Captain hissed.
"Do not yell at them, Uncle. They have been nothing but helpful. If it were not for their bravery, I would be dead as well. Or worse."
The Captain stared angrily at his two soldiers, before calling for another one of his men. Elise was sent to a bedchamber which was unused at the moment.
"Tell me everything," he requested as soon as she had left.
"The man you put in prison may end up sharing some valuable information," d'Artagnan suggested after the whole story had been shared by his friends.
"I doubt it. He did not say anything to us and trust me, I had some valid arguments," Porthos replied.
"Is there any other lead? Did any of the others say something we could use?"
"No, Athos. Only that the boy had made some arrangement he could not honour. A wager of some sort, I should think so. The problem is, even if he comes back to his house, we will not know. For his sake, I hope I never cross his path. Thinking about what his stupidity caused, I could punch him!"
"I remind you it's my nephew you're talking about, Porthos. You are out of line."
"Sorry, but it's the truth," he added under his breath. Captain Tréville heard it but chose not to acknowledge it. The news had brought much sorrow in his heart. His sister and her husband deceased, his nephew alone in the wilderness chased by who-knew how many mongrels, and his poor niece who had witnessed so many horrors.
"I will request an audience with the King tomorrow. I cannot let this barbarity go unnoticed. You may go now, the four of you."
The Musketeers did not go to sleep for a long time. Instead, they shared some bottles of wine, explaining again and again what had happened in Orléans. They might have missed an important detail but the more they drank, the more obscure the entire story became. Eventually, they dragged themselves to their bed chambers and slept soundly.
The following morning, Aramis woke up on his bed, still wearing his boots and his uniform. He used some cold water to wash his face and his hair. It had been nice to sleep an entire night without being woken up by Elise's cries and nightmares. He wondered how she was feeling. He added her to his quick morning prayer.
In the courtyard, he found his three companions already waiting for the Captain to accompany him to the Palace. Now that they were back in Paris and away from bullets and swords, he could focus again on what mattered the most to him, that is the Dauphin. He was dying to ask if the Queen had already requested the extra Musketeer guard in the nursery. But perhaps now was not the good time for such a question.
They rode in a peculiar silence toward the silence. It was unlike them to do so, to be around each other without bantering and joking. The Captain's sombre look dampened any desire to cheer the mood. He was grieving, even if he did not want his Musketeers to see it. His grief was personal. However, when he was in front of the King and had to explain what had befallen his family, keeping a straight face was difficult.
"What an abject tragedy to occur to you, Captain. We shall not tolerate it and the culprits will be found," the King decided, even though his face did not show one hint of emotion. The tricks of a monarch, Aramis guessed. He had often noticed the Queen doing the same thing: talking with a straight face when he knew she wanted to show much more. He observed her carefully while Captain Tréville was thanking the King, but her eyes were focused on Tréville, probably grieving for people she didn't even know.
"Actually, your Majesty, I came today to ask you a special request. I would like to be sent to Orléans to investigate the matter personally. After all, it is my family."
"But...who would take the Musketeers' command then? Surely, you cannot expect us to leave the Garrison unsupervised while you search the country. It cannot be allowed."
"Perhaps your Majesty could appoint someone else to take over Captain Tréville's authority while he is gone? I am certain there are men under his orders who are more than capable of assuming the responsibilities." Louis had not expected his wife to speak. It was a good thing she had, though, because he would not have accepted the suggestion if it had come from someone else. It would have been a direct and unforgivable affront. He seemed to consider the matter.
"Very well, my dear. And who may you suggest for such a task?"
"Athos, Sire," she replied without missing a beat. "He has proven his worth many times, and saved my life when it was threatened. Everybody appreciates him."
The above-named gaped at the turn of events until d'Artagnan elbowed him in the ribs. He had to bow his head slightly to hide his smirk. Despite the gravity of the situation, imagining Athos having to deal nicely and diplomatically with the great people of the world made him laugh.
"Athos...Why not? It is an excellent idea the Queen has given me! Sir Athos, step forward."
This time, it was Aramis who had to push him so he would move. The King stood up from his throne and walked down to Athos, who bowed. He did not like how things were going, but one simply did not say no to the King of France.
"We trust your judgement and your heart to serve us in the best of your abilities while you lead the Musketeers. Captain Tréville may go knowing that we have chosen a very capable man in his stead."
As soon as the royal couple had left the room, Porthos and d'Artagnan burst out laughing, bowing endlessly to their friend.
"Stop it," Athos said sternly.
"Is that an order, Sir? Do you command us to stop, Sir? May we inquire about our next mission, Sir?"
"If you don't stop your nonsense, it will be to clean the stables. Idiots."
"Thank you, Athos," the Captain said, cutting the banter short.
"Well, it's not as if they've given me a choice, is it?"
"I'll find my nephew as quick as I can. You will not be burdened for long."
"I hope so."
Captain Tréville left for Orléans the following day. Elise had been heartbroken to hear he was leaving so soon after her arrival. Yet, she understood why he was doing it. But she was in a city which was foreign to her, in a place full of men, of rough soldiers for the majority of them. She was not completely at ease. The surgeon they had sent to take care of her was an old smelly man who always looked drunk. She did not trust him one second. Instead, she had asked for Aramis to continue tending to her injuries.
Her body was finally catching up with all the emotions of the past week. When the Musketeer was not changing her bandage or forcing her to eat some soup, she mainly slept. She had never slept so much in her life. Given that she was often woken by nightmares, she needed that much rest.
Three days after arriving in Paris, Elise felt well enough to actually leave the small room which had been provided for her. She only had the dress she had worn to come to put on. She did not want to look like she lived on the street, but she had no other choice. Perhaps this Athos who was in charge would allow her to get a new one. Or at least one that was not in shreds.
"Good afternoon, Mademoiselle," a warm voice greeted her in the corridor as she was looking around. She smiled, actually happy. The feeling was strange; she should not have been feeling so happy since her parents were dead. She should be mourning. It was shameful to be joyful because of a Musketeer, however remarkable he may be.
"Good afternoon to you, Aramis", she bowed courteously.
"Are you in need of anything?"
"No, thank you. I merely wanted to walk around the place. One can only stay in bed for so long before it becomes a boredom."
"You are getting better, then. I'm glad to hear it." He gave her a sincere smile.
"It's thanks to you and everything you need for me."
"Don't mention it. I simply did my duty."
"I still think you did more than others would have done. You and Porthos are a blessing. You'll forever have my gratitude."
"Please, you are going to make me blush," he joked, taking off his hat and pressing it to his face to hide his supposedly-changed complexion. Elise could not help laughing at his antics. "On a more serious note, would you like me to show you around the Garrison?"
"Don't you have more important matters to attend to? I'd hate to be a burden."
"Nothing is more important than our Captain's niece, trust me." Elise was secretly happy. She would enjoy the company.
"In that case, do you believe your Commander would allow me to get a more decent dress? I feel ashamed wearing this rag." Aramis looked puzzled for a second before he burst out laughing. He strode to her side to whisper these last words in her ear, as if it was a secret.
"When you say "Commander", do you mean Athos? Because if you do, never use this word to refer to him again. It would only go to his head and then, it'd be worse than having him be moody all day long. But you are right, you do need clothes. Come with me, I have something for you."
Aramis led her to Captain Tréville's office, which was empty for the moment. It was bad enough for Athos that his friends were always making fun of him because of his new position. He did not wish to fuel the jokes by taking over the commanding officer's office. Aramis rummaged in a wooden chest until he found what he was looking for.
"Porthos and I took these from your house before we left. We did not want them to fall into the wrong hands and, they belong to you after all."
He set a leather clutch on the table before her. When she opened it, she saw it contained many of her mother's jewels: necklaces and rings she had always loved and cherished.
"We intended to give them to you as soon as you would be feeling better. They should be enough to buy more than a dozen new dresses. Even some pairs of shoes."
There were tears in Elise's eyes as she displayed the jewellery in front of her. It was going to break her heart a little more to part from this treasure, yet, it had to be done. Seeing them filled her mind with images of her mother, looking very pretty in one of her beautiful gowns, earrings dangling in her neck and rings shining in the candlelight. She wished she could hug her mother right now.
"Thank you," she eventually said, choking back her sobs.
Aramis sensed her distress; it was not very difficult. He had been spending so much time with her lately that it felt like they had known each other their entire lives. He put a hand on her shoulder and before you could add a word, she had turned around and was burying her face on his chest. She was crying violently. It was the first time she had so openly demonstrated her grief. He put his arms around her waist to support her.
Athos found them in the same position when he entered the room some time later. It was as if Elise's body was draining all the tears it was accumulated these past days. She could not seem to stop. Aramis's uniform was as wet as if it had rained. His friend gave him a quizzical look, but Aramis simply shook his head, letting him know that it was better to leave them alone. At least until Elise had calmed down.
She cried so much that she actually ended up falling asleep from exhaustion.