Chapter XIV
In the middle of the afternoon, d'Artagnan was back from the Palace. He was still brooding over the fact that he could have paid a visit to Constance since her husband was out of town if his fellow Musketeer had not overslept. He could not find any of them at the Garrison though. After a rapid inquiry, he hunted them down at the closest tavern. Porthos was as always engrossed in a heated game of cards. Athos and Aramis were sharing a bottle of wine.
"Your price is mine," his friend offered as soon as the youngest sat down at the table.
"My drinks for the night, to start with."
"Your wish is my command." Aramis raised his hand so the innkeeper would bring a glass for d'Artagnan.
"Today was not so terrible, actually. Mind you, I would have been better with Constance, but there was more activity than usual. It was definitely more interesting to watch. I was growing sick of nurses and governesses tiptoeing around as if someone had died."
Aramis barely raised his head at this piece of information. It was better to focus on filling his glass. Hiding behind the brink of his hat, he was not losing one word. He may have already drunk a lot to try to forget the precarious situation he had put Elise in, he would always be alert enough when it came to the Dauphin.
"Is that so?" Athos asked.
"There were new physicians the King had sent for. The first one wanted to leech the Dauphin. I did not think a woman like the Queen could shout so loud. You should have been there," he laughed, thinking back on what he had witnessed. "I believe even the King was a little bit afraid of her wrath. In the end, they sent this one away. The second one suggested to use steam, which sounded a lot less harmful. He said it could clear his brain. I cannot be sure, but there seemed to be some improvement when I left. Your Marguerite looked less concerned than usual," he added for Aramis's sake.
The latter exhaled the breath he had been holding. If his friend was correct, the baby was going to be safe. It was such a relief. He had somewhat forgotten about Marguerite, though. Aramis swallowed another glass of wine.
"Very good. Everything is finally settling down. The royals are all out of danger and the Captain will soon be back."
"All the more to celebrate!" Porthos exclaimed, joining his friends, his hand full of his newly-won money. The coins bounced on the table. "I wonder what will happen to Elise's brother. What this boy had done...what his sister has been through because of him. If he were my brother, I would punch him until my fists hurt."
"Somehow, I cannot imagine our Elise having enough strength to hurt anyone."
Aramis chuckled in spite of himself, his jaw clearly remembering the blow it had suffered the very morning. His friends all looked at him.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. I was just thinking."
"Well then, you are not drinking enough if you are still capable of coherent thoughts. More wine!" Porthos screamed over the hubbub.
The day after, Elise was helping the cook in the kitchen. She liked to make herself useful, and she enjoyed spending time with the old man. He was nice and caring, the Musketeers were almost like his own children. It made her smile how he often rebuked them when they complained that the food was not to their liking. The loaves of bread were in the oven, and the room was filling with a delicious smell.
She had not slept very well after the big revelations of the day before so she was drowsing on her chair. Her mind could not rest knowing the situation in which Aramis was. It was difficult for her not to judge him especially since his actions went against most of what she believed in. The growing affection she felt for him overtook most of her criticism. She had no idea where everything would lead her, but the Musketeer had reassured her when she was at the lowest; she felt bound to him in a good way.
There was a commotion in the common room, bringing Elise back to the present. She followed the cook out of the door to see what it was all about. There never was a dull day at the Garrison. The four Musketeers had made quite an entrance: one was limping towards the nearest seat, another had his face so bruised you barely discerned his eyes anymore. Athos looked dishevelled, his uniform in a pitiful state and the last one was holding a bloodied piece of cloth to his head. The old man shook his head, obviously used to such a sight.
"These four are the best and the worst calamity that has ever happened to this company."
"Water...," d'Artagnan groaned, sitting down and resting his bloody head on the table. The cook grumbled something, but fetched them some.
"What happened to you?" Elise asked, looking at them with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. They looked like they had not slept at all, or if they did, it had not been in their bed. She discarded the rag d'Artagnan pressed to his hair. He was not bleeding anymore. "Stop groaning. You will live." He mumbled something in response, reaching painfully for something to quench his thirst.
There was no Musketeer glory irradiating from them this morning. If she wanted to be completely honest, Elise would have said that they looked like a pathetic lot.
"Is someone at least able to explain?" she demanded again, her hands on her hips. Porthos took off the boot on his weakened leg to rest it on the bench. It made him laugh when he saw her frustration. His entire body ached. There may very well be something wrong with his ribs as well.
"Ouch...If I recall correctly, somebody disrespected someone else and then...well...I cannot really say what happened afterwards, but it sure wasn't pretty."
"You should see the other party. If you think this is bad, they are definitely worse," Aramis managed to say while rubbing his forehead. It hurt inside and on his face. His knuckles were covered in dry blood. He was not certain it was his. They cracked when he folded them.
"That is correct. Nobody can beat us. We're the best." They sounded so proud of their actions, it infuriated her even more. They actually behaved like children sometimes. It was difficult to imagine the King's best soldiers acting so recklessly.
"This is bad. Look at yourself! How do you expect to perform your duty with such a battered face?" Elise grabbed Aramis's chin and turned his face towards hers to examine his injuries. There was a cut on one of his cheeks, one of his eyes was completely shut and so swollen that it had doubled in size. The other eyelid was slowly turning blue and his right eye was injected with blood. His top lip was split, a few drops of blood covering it. Her touch was a little rough and he broke free to swallow some water.
"This is why we have hats. To hide the damage." Elise backed away, disgusted. He had spoken too close to her and his breath was foul.
"You reek!" d'Artagnan still had enough strength to laugh, which he quickly regretted. Every vibration hurt. Athos, who had been nursing his wounds in silence, looked at her curiously. She had been spending too much time with them; her language was slowly deteriorating. "Have you been drinking all night?"
"Probably. There was cause to celebrate, though. Everybody's safe and your uncle is bringing your brother back."
"Everybody's safe? I hope you are not talking about yourselves! And you! How could you let this happen?" she confronted Athos. She looked so furious at the moment that he could almost fear her.
"I'm not their father. If they want to drink and have a little fun, I will not stop them. They deserve it."
"Fun? You call this having fun? Musketeers!" Her words had no impact on them. They were not used to answering to a woman when it came to explaining why they had fought. Aramis found some strength to smile at her. She cared for them all.
"Go wash up, all of you. I will not try to look at your injuries unless you look a little more decent," she ordered, resolute.
"Have we got a new physician? Wonderful! At least it will be better than having you look at my naked flesh," Porthos grinned and Aramis deliberately shook the bench he was lying on. His friend moaned in pain.
"Hurry up. Go wash up," Elise repeated, so close to d'Artagnan's ear, it made him hurt even more. He nodded, but did not move. "Do not make me come back to fetch you," she threatened.
"Yes, Mother. Right away, Mother," Aramis joked and she slapped him on the back of his head before stamping out of the room. It hurt and when he tried to rub the pain away, he discovered a new source of pain in his arm.
"Would you look at that! What has gotten into her?"
"I fear her stay with us has greatly improved her confidence."
"I have to say, I'll miss her when she will move out. It was nice to have her around."
"As far as I'm concerned, she is starting to scare me a little. She must be spending too much time with Constance; she is starting to treat us like she does. I personally do not wish for her to come back in here." d'Artagnan slowly stood up, swinging dangerously. He felt dizzy. "On second thoughts..." He sat back down and passed out in a few seconds.
Elise was sitting outside in the courtyard, reading and enjoying the warmth of the sun. The weather was improving. Athos was the first one to join her. Of all the four Musketeers, he seemed to be the least injured. Apart from his uniform which was a little out of place, he did not seem to have taken any blows. Either he was a better fighter or he was smarter than the others. He stood against the table, his arms crossed.
"You have scared them a little, Mademoiselle, which is not something easily achieved. But they've all passed out down there."
"And you haven't?"
"I can hold my liquor better. Besides, I have things to do. I am still in charge around here. Captain Tréville will be glad to hear that his niece could make a good commanding officer, though." Elise smiled at the compliment.
"I wish I could stay here when my uncle will return. Unfortunately, I do not think his position will be the same."
"You will not need our protection anymore when your family will be back. It would not do for you to stay with soldiers. But do not be worried, I am certain the Captain will care for you as best as he can."
"How? I cannot imagine many possibilities in my future. I refuse to spend my life in a convent. I find the mere thought of being locked away dreadful."
"You are young and in good health, Elise. The Captain will not send you away against your will. You are his sister's daughter. He will listen to you."
"I hope," she sighed.
"Instead of fretting about your future, you should focus on welcoming your brother. He will surely need all your affection. You have both greatly suffered lately." Elise nodded. "He will be happy if a room has been prepared for him. Why don't you see to it?" She was glad for the mission. It occupied the remainder of her morning to make preparations for her brother's arrival.