Chapter XLII

Elise was strongly displeased when Aramis announced that he would have to leave Paris for the countryside. Despite knowing perfectly well that her husband was more often on missions than with her, she had grown used to having him around in the spring. Truth be told, he did not look too happy to have to be far away from her and the baby. At least they had had three weeks to themselves before he had to escort the King.

"Your brother could come and stay with you as he did last year," Aramis suggested one night when they were both awake, the baby sucking hungrily on his mother's breasts.

"It would not be fair to make him endure sleepless nights. I can take care of Mathieu by myself, can't I?" she cooed, her fingers smoothing the hair on her son's head.

"I have to endure such nights and you don't hear me complaining about it."

"That's only because you're smart enough not to," Elise flashed him a brilliant smile. "Dare tell me you are not a little bit glad you will be able to sleep without being woken up every few hours."

A sheepish look on Aramis' face revealed that yes, he had indeed thought of such a prospect.

"It does not mean that I will gladly spend weeks away from you both."

"I'm only asking you to not break your leg simply to come back early, Aramis."

"The idea had not even crossed my mind," he promised, one hand pressed to his heart. The baby sounded like he had finished eating as he started to grow uneasy. His tiny fists were balled and his face crunched up. Elise tucked him in his blanket passing him gently to the soldier so she could straighten her clothes.

Aramis had always been good at quieting babes, and as he rocked his son and sang in Spanish, Elise could not help but marvel at the sight.

"When you said you were good with babies, I did not expect it to be that amazing." He smiled cheekily at the compliment, finishing his lullaby.

"I've had some experience in the past."

"For which I'm quite thankful, to be honest," Elise stated, rising from the bed to stand next to him. She put one hand on Aramis' back, the other close to their son.

"I can even tell you what to do when he'll start to teeth," he continued, sounding rather proud, until a shadow passed in front of his eyes. He remembered having the same parenting conversation with another woman a year ago. It unsettled him a little.

"What is it?"

"I've had this conversation in the past already, that's all." There was no point in tiptoeing around the issue anymore. Elise was blessed with a son, one that Aramis was completely dedicated to, so she understood that from time to time, it triggered memories. Talking was one of the best cures she knew and she was willing to listen to him whenever he needed to.

"Only this time you will actually be around to put your advice to the test." The young woman felt his body relax at her words.

"You're right." Bending his head to kiss Elise's hair, he stopped his rocking movement, which did not make the child happy. He resumed his walking, engraving all these precious moments in his mind. God only knew when he would be reunited with his family.

"Will you be all right in Fontainebleau?" Elise could not help asking. Aramis' situation worried her more now that she was a mother. Despite his promise, everything still gnawed at her heart. The Queen would be there with her children and although he had given his word he would not approach them if it was not required, she had to wonder if he would manage such a feat.

"I will not put his life at risk, Elise. You know perfectly well I won't. I've told you a thousand times that you were more important than anything else. Your lack of faith is disturbing."

The Musketeer was genuinely hurt by her words and she had to make it better. She had not meant to upset him.

"I did not mean it like that, Aramis. It's just that... now that he's with us and I'm a mother, I don't see...I mean, it would kill me to be separated from him more than a few hours. I'm only now starting to really comprehend how heartbreaking and difficult your place is. I could not do it. Simply imagining it makes me panic. You're so brave."

"I don't have a choice. I have to keep you safe."

"And I love you for it, you know I do. I trust you completely. I did not mean to hurt you. Sorry. "

Aramis had sat down on the bed, the baby finally settling down and drifting to sleep. He slowly ran a finger over his soft tiny cheeks, memorizing the feeling. Elise put her head against her husband's shoulder.

"There's no need to apologise. We're both tired, that's all. Everything will be fine for me as long as I think about you and him."

His words were warm and his voice sounded assured. Aramis only hoped he would manage to hold on to his resolve.

Fontainebleau was a long ride away, the weather was growing extremely hot and the King would not stop complaining. Even though the carriage doors were closed and small curtains prevented the sun from blinding his Majesty, he was not satisfied. Porthos and Aramis were riding in front of the carriage, silently rolling their eyes every time Louis XIII would make a remark.

"I almost wish it would start raining," Porthos muttered. "At least we would not hear any curse towards the sun."

"He would only curse clouds and humidity instead. I don't see how it would be better. Besides, we would be soaked wet," Aramis mumbled.

"I'd take it over all this sweating. Leather may work charms with the ladies, it is not suited for such travels. Rain would be refreshing."

"And there I was thinking that you and I were alike: that we both simply needed our natural qualities to seduce women."

"They come for the uniform and then, they stay for the amazing spirits."

"Of course."

Porthos burst out laughing, the deep sound carrying so far behind the carriage that the Red Guards there glared at the two Musketeers who did not care one bit.

"May we one day know the name of this lovely woman who has had all your attentions lately?"

"A Musketeer doesn't kiss and tell, you should know that."

"Excuse you? That's my phrase! How shameful of you to blatantly steal my genius!"

"Oh, right...That's where I heard it," Porthos said thoughtfully, openly mocking his friend. "Back when you were seeing Marguerite. Lord, it feels like ages ago. Elise must be glad you're not wearing her necklace anymore."

"Marguerite never gave me any necklaces."

"Well, whoever it was, she still must be happy you were convinced to give it up. I'm surprised she has not given you one of her own, though. Isn't it how women brand you as theirs?"

Aramis' eyes shot daggers at the other, relieved that he was not pressing him to know who had once given him the locket.

"How about you? Haven't you been given some earrings or bracelet?"

Porthos scoffed, straightening up on his saddle.

"I've not been branded by anyone. I prefer to remain free to enjoy any Parisian lady I wish."

"That's what I used to say, as well. Yet, look at me now."

"This type of miracle only happens once every century. Paris' most infamous womaniser married and with a child. Who would have thought of it? Am I right, Captain?" Porthos raised his voice, calling out to their commanding officer who was riding behind them, close to the carriage. Their conversation had not been kept quiet, they rarely were, so he had heard every word of it.

"Aramis had been behaving himself, you're quite correct."

"Why, thank you, Captain. Do I get some sort of reward for good behaviour?" Aramis turned his head, smirking at the Captain who only shook his head. He had given up rebuking the soldiers for their banter.

"The right to continue on the same righteous path." The threat uttered the day Aramis had asked him for Elise's hand was silently reminded to him as Tréville's hand rested on the pommel of his sword. The Musketeer only tipped his hat, not frightened for a second.

"Tréville?" The King's voice interrupted the conversation. The officer slowed his horse so he would reach the carriage door where his Majesty's head appeared. "It is so terribly scolding hot in here. Are we close to the Marquis' lodgings?"

Fontainebleau was too far away for the escort and the King to reach it in only one day. It had been decided well in advance that they would halt for the night at a Marquis' mansion, conveniently located on the road they were taking.

"We have been making good process, your Majesty. I believe it should not be more than two leagues away."

The small curtain fell back in place, a loud groan reaching the soldiers. His Majesty was not pleased.

It was early evening when the King and his escort reached their destination. His Majesty disappeared inside the large house as soon as he was greeted by his host, requesting a bath and given orders to anyone his eyes landed upon. Thankfully, the Musketeers had to inspect the grounds with the Red Guards to make sure that everything was safe so they avoided being yelled at.

When they were certain his Majesty would be safe, they were able to retire to the room assigned to them as sleeping quarters. They were all exhausted by the long journey and not willing to travel approximately the same distance the day after. The air had cooled, though and the breeze coming through the open windows was a blessing. Most of the soldiers went to sleep rather quickly, knowing they would have to wake to stand watch at some point during the night.

Porthos had taken the first watch near the King so Aramis was left free to lay on his camp bed, his hand reaching for his crucifix. He had vowed he would never wear it again, but Elise had convinced him to still take it with him. She knew God was his main source of comfort, and despite what this special necklace represented for him, it was a holy object. It would be good for Aramis to have it close by. So, it rested in one of his many pockets.

Taking it out and clutching it in his hand, the soldier somewhat felt better, but not for the same reasons he had the first times, all these years ago. He asked God to give him strength when his Majesty would welcome the Queen and their children at the Palace, as well as the strength to do only his duty and not overstep the boundaries he had set for himself. When it was done, his prayers focused on Elise and the baby, alone in their home. They would be in his thoughts and his dreams, he was certain of it.

Aramis had forgotten how deeply soothing it was to pray while his fingers rubbed the rubies embedded on the cross. His mind was less frantic and his spirits calmed. There was no harm in wearing it for a little while as he slept.

"Your turn," Porthos said, shaking Aramis' shoulder until he deigned open his eyes, confused at first then remembering where he was. His friend was already stripping off his weapons in order to go to bed. "I thought you'd lost that." Porthos motioned to the crucifix dangling around the other's neck. It was the lie invented when the Musketeers had commented on the Queen's gift missing from Aramis' attire.

"Well, it turns out I didn't. Considering what happened to me last time we went hunting with the King, some extra faith can only be good."

"I wonder what you'll break this time..."

"I sure hope you do not have some wager on that, Porthos..."

"You are a man of little faith, indeed! I would never do such a thing!" His chuckling told his friend otherwise.

"Will you two fishwives shut up?" another soldier hissed, a boot landing just beside Porthos.

"You're welcome to sleep outside if you don't like it."

"Ssssshhhh!"

"Ssssshhhh yourself." Another boot flew their way, colliding with Porthos' legs. It only made him laugh more. This hunting trip would be more fun than last year. There were more Red Guards and they all knew this particular Musketeer particularly enjoyed messing with them.

Aramis was still shaking sleep from his body when he arrived near the King's bedchamber to keep watch. In the attempt to have the men get along better, Musketeers had to be paired with a Red Guard. Needless to say, the conversation was quite sparse between the two soldiers that night.

The second day of the journey passed in the same fashion as the first one. They were on the road quite early to take advantage of the rather cool morning air. The King still found things to complain about, especially because the road was a little damaged and it importuned him. It was a relief when the company finally reached Fontainebleau in the evening. It was decided that there would be no hunting the next day, as his Majesty wished to recover from the long travel he had just done. Moreover, there were details to discuss with the gamekeepers before going out in the woods.

All the guards had to be present at the meeting, Captain Tréville suggesting the less dangerous paths to use, combining them with the gamekeepers' advice on where they were more likely to find preys. It was a rather dull day, but it was not overly warm in the Palace, and the Musketeers were glad for some respite before they would have to be back on their horses again.

"When do you think the Queen will arrive?" the King asked Tréville as they were escorting him to the stables so he could inspect the horses.

"Athos will not make them go fast for the sake of your children, your Majesty. I believe you should be reunited tomorrow at the latest."

"Excellent! Now, which one of your Musketeers do you recommend to instruct the Dauphin on how to ride?"

"They would all be very capable, your Majesty. Aramis has always been a skilled teacher..."

The soldier stiffened a little behind his officer. Despite wanting to make sure that the heir would be safe, he could not help but dread the idea of spending so much time with him in public. For once, he was glad the King was so fond of him.

"That will not do. Monsieur Aramis is too much of a help when we are out hunting. He will accompany me every time."

"Very well. Then...Porthos is quite good with horses and teaching, I suppose."

The King turned around briefly, everybody else stopping in their tracks. Porthos stood very still as the royal gaze examined him. A wave of the hand settled it.

"If you say so. You!" Porthos stepped closed at the order, bowing. "You will be the Dauphin's instructor. One month should be enough to teach him how to hold himself on a pony."

"It will be an honour, your Majesty."

Aramis exhaled the breath he had been holding. Nothing would happen to the child if his friend remained close to him at all times.