Chapter XXXIII
The Queen desired to spend some time in peace away from the agitation of Paris, just as she had done during her first pregnancy. This one was a lot more tiring and being in the countryside would be good for her health. It was decided that she would take residence at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, on the outskirts of Paris, until she gave birth to her second child. The King would be unable to accompany her but he promised he would travel many times to inquire about his Queen. She could not have cared less, but she thanked him nonetheless. There was no question asked about where the Dauphin would be: he would go wherever his mother went. So would many Musketeers, the Queen's safety being paramount.
It was February when all the preparations were completed and the Palace was ready to welcome the expectant mother. The four Musketeers and many of their companions had packed their belongings to escort the Queen and her entourage. The road was never a safe place for a monarch, especially during winter when night fell early.
They left in the morning, thankful that it was not snowing. Athos and Aramis were among those escorting a first carriage while their friends were riding behind a second one which had left the Louvres some time afterwards as a security measure.
The road was quite desert for the main part of the journey. The riders were ever so vigilant, but the cold was numbing them quickly. Aramis kept blowing on his fingers to warm them up. When they talked, and it was not often, they blew out fog.
"Someone's approaching," one the guards said, pointing to their left. They narrowed their eyes to try to discern something among the trees. They heard the branches and dead leaves crack under footsteps before they saw anyone.
"I'd say more than one." Out of habit, the Musketeers drew their swords and their pistols, closing in on the carriage.
"What's happening?" Marguerite asked, opening the carriage door when she realized it had stopped.
"Close that door," Aramis ordered, his eyes still strained in front of him. They waited a few minutes, none of them talking, but they did not hear anything. Athos decided it was safe to start again.
"False alarm. Let's go if we..." Someone fired a pistol, not letting him finish his sentence. The bullet missed him, hitting the side of the carriage instead. The horses neighed, Marguerite screamed, Aramis fired and they heard someone collapse on the ground.
He drew his second pistol, aimed at a second man coming in their direction and killed him as well.
"Keep near the carriage!" Athos ordered, pulling on his reins so that his horse would stay where it was. Another shot was heard, and a guard groaned as he fell from his horse.
"Cowards! Show yourself!" Aramis shouted. "What?" he added when the other glared at him. "Look, it worked!"
Three men jumped in front of them, daggers and swords in their hands. They seemed to be out of munitions. Athos dismounted, attacking the closest one. They had to be simple bandits because their parry was no match for the Musketeer.
"Go warn the others! Stay there! Protect the Queen!" he yelled at Aramis while holding one of his opponents by the neck. The latter was struggling, kicking the soldier. Athos' foot hit his leg, there was a crack of bones. Aramis did not wait to see what followed.
He galloped towards the second carriage, hoping that the Queen had not been attacked, too. He found them a mile back and everything was quiet.
"We were attacked," he explained to his friends when he reached them.
"Where's Athos?"
"Fighting. We have to turn around. The road is not safe ahead."
"Where do you want us to go? We will never reach Paris before it's dark and then it will be even more dangerous."
"Is something wrong?" The Queen had opened her door. She was surprised to find Aramis there since he had left with the other carriage. He looked distressed and it alarmed her.
"The first carriage was attacked, your Majesty." A hand flew to her mouth at the news. "It may not be safe to continue on this road. Do not worry, we will find a solution." She nodded, trying to remain dignified, but she was afraid for her son, for herself, and for her guards. She remembered all too well the last time her life had been in danger and they had to find refuge in the convent. It was not an experience she wished to re-enact, especially not when she was with child.
"Shouldn't we go and help Athos?" d'Artagnan seemed really concerned and since he was never the last one to fight, it was no surprise that he wanted to help his friend.
"The Queen and the Dauphin first, d'Artagnan."
"I say we wait here a moment. If we return and Athos comes looking for us, he will not know where we are," Porthos suggested.
"I don't know. I do not like the idea of staying still." Aramis was as restless as his horse. His son was in danger, he wanted to take him in his arms and gallop as far away from this ambush as possible. At least their deception had worked. Marguerite had been the only occupant of the first carriage. He shuddered, imagining what could have happened if she had been accompanied by the child. "Have you seen a place on the way where we could take refuge?"
"Well, I've seen inns, but we are not taking the Queen to an inn. There were farms, too. They will not go there either. The Queen is not the Virgin Mary, she will not sleep in a barn." Porthos muttered.
"At this rate, she will sleep in a freezing carriage," d'Artagnan stated. He was not wrong.
"If I may suggest something." Lucas, one their companions had been listening to the three men and since they did not seem to find a proper solution, he had to chime in. "One of my cousins works for a Count who lives not far away from here. Perhaps three miles in that direction." He pointed to the left. "He will have no objection in offering refuge to her Majesty."
"That could work. Your Majesty?" Aramis tapped lightly on the carriage door until a maid opened it. The Queen was holding her son in her arms. He saw the despair and the fear in her eyes. "Lucas says there is a Count whose residence is near our position. We shall seek refuge there until it is safe to proceed to Saint-Germain."
"Very well. Thank you, Aramis."
"'mis?"
"Ssssshhhhh."
The Musketeer ignored his son, it was too dangerous to acknowledge what he had heard and it was definitely not the time or the place. He gave orders rapidly. D'Artagnan was to ride ahead to help Athos in case he needed any. A fellow soldier left to announce the incoming royal arrival after Lucas gave him instructions to find the mansion.
The rest of the escort started again, following Lucas who was leading the way.
The Count and his wife were both anxious and honoured to have such important guests under their roof. Servants were running around and the house seemed to have been turned upside down when the royal carriage eventually stopped on the entrance alley.
"Ladies, make sure the Queen's bedchamber is ready as soon as possible," Aramis asked them, opening the carriage doors to let the two maids out. They disappeared inside. In the carriage, the Queen was sitting still. Apart from the worry in her eyes, you could not have said that her life had been in danger. She was talking very calmly to her son, keeping him safe in her arms. She did not want to frighten him, no matter her own feelings.
"We have arrived your Majesty. Everything will be fine, here. I promise." He extended his hand to help her out. When she grabbed it, he felt her fingers shake. On second thoughts, she sat back down.
"Allow me a moment."
"Take all the time you require, your Majesty. Would you like me to..."
"Yes, please." It was not what he had meant, he merely intended to ask if she wanted to remain alone. Instead, she understood that he was offering to relieve her of the toddler. He could not say no to her in public, with such a frenzy around them.
The Dauphin put his tiny arms around the Musketeer's neck. He seemed oblivious to the turmoil, watching his surroundings with interest. He gazed at the person holding him, then grabbed the man's beard.
"A-mis!" he exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Ssssshhhhhssss. You should not call me like this."
"Aramis?" He turned around to see the Queen's extended hand. He took it, helping her out. Her free hand was resting on her swollen stomach. All this agitation was not good for her or the baby. She actually looked like she could faint at any time.
Still holding his son, he led her inside the house. Their hosts curtsied when they were introduced and warmly thanked. There was no one to take the Dauphin from him so Aramis stayed close while the Queen was led to her bedchamber. The maids were already bringing water for a warm bath.
"I am afraid we do not have many rooms available for you, messieurs," the Count apologized when Aramis joined him and Porthos downstairs.
"We do not intend to sleep much anyway. We'll establish a night watch and the others will make the best of it in the living room, if you do not object."
"Not at all. My men will help you settle down." They thanked him on his way out. He seemed like a rather nice man.
"I hope Athos and d'Artagnan find us," Porthos said, standing at the window.
"As do the others. François was injured when I left them. Marguerite was over there as well. She must be in shock."
"Did they even know who they were attacking?"
"I doubt it. They looked like mediocre bandits. Their pistols missed more than they hit."
Porthos shook his head.
"At least they are safe." Aramis could not agree more, but he was growing worried for his friends. What if more bandits had arrived after he left and Athos had been outnumbered? What if d'Artagan had arrived too late?
His doubts were nullified a couple of hours later. Night had fallen but Porthos was still waiting by the window, eating absent-mindedly. They heard the horses before they saw anything.
Outside, they encountered many riders, most of them looking uninjured. Athos dismounted and went to help Marguerite who was riding behind d'Artagnan. She was shaking violently in the Musketeer's arms.
"She's in shock," he explained even if it was obvious. The Countess had come out to greet the new visitors and she said she would take care of the governess.
"Where's François?"
"The bullet killed him. There was nothing you could have done, Aramis," he added when he saw how hurt his friend looked. There was blood on his arm, though.
"What happened to you?"
"A rusty dagger, I would say. It is but a scratch."
"You do not get to decide. Go inside and I will stitch you up."
"Were you attacked after I left?" d'Artagnan asked Porthos, following the older Musketeers inside the warm mansion.
"No. Did they say anything?"
"I fear they did not have the leisure to do so." The younger man told his friends that when he had arrived to assist Athos, the assailants were all already dead. He did not even need to unsheathe his sword.
"It's a pity. They could have told us if there were more of them."
"Well, then, these ones will not do any harm anymore. The Queen and the Dauphin are safe, it is all that matters," Athos muttered, gritting his teeth when Aramis started to look at his injury. They were sitting by the fireplace, blood slowly dripping on the carpet. It could not be helped, his surgeon's work required light.
"What do we do now?" d'Artagnan inquired.
"We rest. We keep watch even if I doubt we may be in danger here. I will send a messenger to Captain Tréville tomorrow to explain the situation. Then we'll wait for new orders. Ouch."
"Sorry. I'm afraid I will have to disinfect it. I'll go see if I can find any alcohol." Aramis stood up in search of supplies. All the servants seemed to have disappeared upstairs to attend to the Queen's needs. Walking quietly in the corridor, he heard baby Louis' meaningless chatter as well as one of the maids comforting Marguerite. He heard her crying. He felt as if he was intruding on something he should not have witnessed. Silently, he retreated downstairs, deciding to fend for alcohol by himself.
A bottle of Armagnac had been found and when Aramis was done with his patient, it was empty. Most of it had been drunk by Athos, who did not care if he could not stay awake for a night watch. Being stitched up was painful so alcohol was required to numb the pain from the inside out. He was sleeping soundly by the fireplace. D'Artagnan was also sleeping, sitting in an armchair. His neck was bound to hurt in the morning.
It had been decided that there would be one guard stationed at the rear of the mansion and one at the front. It was too cold to leave men outside. Besides, the carriage was in the barn, they were positive that no one had followed them so there was no reason for them to be attacked.
The house was quiet; everyone had gone to sleep rather early, the hosts included. Food had been left in the kitchen for the soldiers. Porthos was eating most of it to keep from falling asleep. He had one more hour to wait before one of the Musketeers asleep in the living room came to take his place.
There was a crack behind him and he turned around, his hand on the pommel of his sword.
"Your Majesty," he saluted when he saw it was the Queen at the bottom of the staircase. She was wearing a nightdress and a heavy robe on top. Porthos could not help but notice how her stomach stretched against the fabric of the dress. He averted his eyes to her face. "Can I be how any assistance?"
"I cannot seem to find sleep which however, does not seem to be a problem for my maids."
"Should I go wake one of them?"
"Not at all, thank you. They are as shaken as we all are. They deserve to rest. Could you bring some food, though?"
"Of course, your Majesty. Have a seat. I will be back." He bowed, leaving hastily for the kitchen.
The Queen put a loving hand on her stomach, the child kicking inside. It warmed her heart, at least he seemed to be content and out of danger. She gazed at the soldiers asleep in the big room. Most of them were on the floor, using only their capes as blankets. It must not have been comfortable. Her eyes swept the width of the living room until she spotted Aramis. He was not sleeping; he was holding the cross she had once given him. He was praying.
After a minute, he realized he was being watched so he stood up, coming in her direction.
"Are you feeling unwell?"
"I cannot seem to fall asleep. I keep imagining what could have happened if it had been our carriage attacked. It would have been awful." Aramis saw how her hands clutched her stomach, protecting the baby.
"But it was not, your Majesty. You are both safe and sound. Nothing will happen to you as long as we are with you. I promised, didn't I?" He smiled, but she could not reciprocate the gesture.
"Going to Saint-Germain was a terrible whim. The King will never forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive because nothing happened to you, your Majesty. He cannot blame you for wanting to rest while you are expecting."
"The Dauphin could have been injured or worse." Her voice quivered.
"He was not. He is here with us. He's sleeping as soundly as possible. I am sure he did not even notice we were in danger."
Aramis was not certain she was listening to him. There were tears in her eyes threatening to spill and her body was slightly shaking.
"I could have lost him. The King will be furious. He will say it's my fault."
"Your fault for what, your Majesty? Listen to me: nothing happened. Nothing. I would rather die than see anything happen to you or your son. I've said it before, do you recall?"
She nodded, her arms circling her waist. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. It took everything Aramis had in him to not reach and wipe it away. She was not the Queen anymore, but a mother worried for her children. Her husband frightened her so much she was blaming herself for imaginary misfortunes. He gave her the handkerchief he kept in one of his pockets.
"Here, your Majesty."
"Oh, Aramis..." she whispered, taking it but not doing anything with it. "I am alone, so alone."
"Her Majesty is wrong. You have your son and you have us to keep you safe. You are not alone."
She looked up at him, her vision blurred by the tears. The one thing she needed went against the protocol, but she could have died today. So she took a step toward the Musketeer and put her head on his chest. She needed comfort and warmth. Aramis was taken aback, with no idea of how to react.
"You said you were my friend, didn't you? Hold me tight, please."
It would not have done to deny such a request. Her courage and her firmness had dissolved after the attack, she needed to be fixed. Aramis carefully put his arms around her.