Standing next to her husband, Anne smiled when the four musketeers and Captain Treville entered the grand room and bowed. Sunlight entered through the tall windows that ran the length of the room. Its beams highlighted the gray marbled floor and her long, light blue gown with silver and gold trimming. She stood in its path, feeling its warmth and rejuvenating brilliance. Anne looked refreshed, content, and her eyes conveyed a profound level of gratitude.
Athos tried to disguise his limp, but he could not hide the color variations on the left side of his face and eye. His sword, pistol, and cloak, found on the field where the attack had taken place, and his doublet had all been cleaned and returned to him. He had enjoyed a hot bath and his hair was still damp, and he caught the eyes of the queen, who tilted her chin in appreciation.
Louis cupped Anne's right hand on the crook of his elbow. Dr. Lemay had reassured him that both Anne and her unborn child were in perfect health. A hot bath, warm food, and a long night's sleep had lifted her spirits and eased the fears that had consumed her near the end of her ordeal. She could once again raise her chin high and stand proudly next to her husband, knowing her strength had prevailed. Once again, she owed the musketeers a great debt.
Louis stood proudly in his dark blue doublet, matching britches, white stockings and black shoes that added to his regal and royal appearance. Like his queen, he stood with his chin held high and his shoulders back. He would not be defeated. He would stand strong against those who opposed him. Whereas the queen looked peaceful, Louis looked critically at the four men, focusing his attention on Athos while maintaining a stern look and unwavering eyes.
"What possessed you to leave the monastery like you did?" Louis asked. He pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow skeptically.
Athos squared his shoulders, looked at the king, and said, "An opportunity for escape presented itself, Your Majesty."
"An opportunity that could have cost," he looked at Anne, "my queen her life."
The statement caused Athos to flex the muscles of his jaw as he clenched and unclenched his teeth.
"You took a risk."
"The risk would have been to wait for a rescue."
Louis looked at Anne, who smiled measuredly at him. "I understand there was a woman who assisted the two of you?" he asked, and looked at Athos, who looked unharmed except the bruising around his cheek and left eye. "Madame Amelia?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Athos said.
"I understand you owe her a chicken?" Louis' lips twitched, and his eyes softened.
Anne fought her smile, but failed.
Porthos frowned, looked side-eyed at Athos, and then looked toward Treville, who tilted his head in question.
Aramis focused his attention on the queen, who tried to avoid meeting his eyes. It was getting more difficult to be in a room with her, to be around her, to watch her and not be a part of her life. Aramis exhaled slowly, shifted his feet, and then looked at Athos.
D'Artagnan looked at the cardinal, who seemed uninterested and slightly annoyed. Who would care about a chicken? D'Artagnan raised an eyebrow, looked at Aramis, who shrugged, and then looked back at the king.
"I paid her for the chicken, Your Majesty," Athos said.
"From what I understand, Musketeer Athos," Louis said, and relaxed his features. "You're a much better musketeer than you are a butcher."
Porthos snorted and muttered, "The worst butcher in the regiment."
"Worse," Aramis added.
D'Artagnan pulled his eyebrows together, not understanding the reference.
"Feathers can be a bit of a challenge to pluck —"
D'Artagnan huffed, and then suddenly stilled when everyone turned their attention toward him. He swallowed, looked at the king, and swallowed again. "I apologize, Your Majesty. I didn't mean to interrupt."
Cardinal Richelieu rolled his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest, and then strategically stroked at his goatee.
Louis cocked his right eyebrow. "Do you know something about chickens?"
D'Artagnan swallowed again and said, "I was a farmer before I became a musketeer, Your Majesty." He continued when everyone continued to stare at him. He ignored Porthos' snicker, and said, "To make plucking easier you should scald the bird in hot water… It," he shrugged, "makes plucking easier."
Louis slowly turned his head toward Treville. "Your men never seem to amaze me, Treville. Not only can they evade capture, but they're also farmers."
Treville nodded and said, "My men come from a variety of backgrounds, Sire. It's what makes them so diverse on the field and in the court."
"Yes, well," Louis said and looked at Richelieu, who frowned, and then at Athos. "You may have reimbursed her for the chicken, but the queen has informed me of everything that happened and it is I who owes her, Father Andre… and you."
"Father Andre didn't survive the fire, Your Majesty," Treville said.
"All the more reason to have the monastery restored and reestablished."
Anne cleared her throat and said, "I have asked that Madame Amelia's husband be found. If he perished in the fires," she looked at Louis, "then I would ask the musketeers to inform her. I cannot bear the thought of her never knowing what happened to him."
Aramis looked in her in the eyes.
Louis raised Anne's hand to his mouth and kissed the backs of her fingers. "I have dispatched a group who will assist Madame Amelia to replace what Father Andre had done for her. I'm including a few more chickens." He snorted and looked at Anne and then quickly composed himself.
"I'm sure she will be grateful, Your Majesty," Athos said. He would never admit it, but the hen had been a challenge, and though he didn't respect her at the time of her unfortunate demise, he appreciated her will to live.
"It is I who am grateful…" Louis looked at Athos, but didn't elaborate. "For now, Cardinal Richelieu will pursue those who associated with these criminals. I will not allow this to go unpunished." He clapped Anne's hand gently and then walked with her to the doors. He paused and looked at Treville. "Have your men prepare for a hunt, Treville. I feel the need to take in the scenery." He turned suddenly toward Athos. "How are you at skinning a deer?"
Those in the room chuckled, even the cardinal.
Anne looked over her shoulder, nodded toward Athos, who bowed, and then looked at Aramis, who met her eyes and then watched her leave.
Cardinal Richelieu and Captain Treville followed.
Porthos clapped Athos on his shoulder and said, "Chickens? I wish I could 'ave seen it. Did you do the cookin' as well?"
"No." Athos grunted. "The hen was fat, under-producing, and had a penchant for war."
Aramis cleared his throat. "So she was difficult to catch."
D'Artagnan chuckled. "Scalding loosens the feathers and makes them less difficult to pluck."
"So you said," Athos said and limped toward the door.
"I could show you how it's done," d'Artagnan said and fell suddenly to his right when shoved by Porthos. "It's not that difficult."
"I don't think he's listening to you," Aramis said, and walked with d'Artagnan toward the exit.
"He's not," Porthos said and held open the door. "An' 'e's the last person you want cleanin' your kill."
Aramis agreed. "With Athos, it's best to do it yourself — that way there's meat left to eat."
"Which is why we do the skinnin', the cleanin', an' the cookin'."
"Doesn't seem fair," d'Artagnan said.
"Trust us. It's just better that way." Porthos said, releasing the door and it slowly swung closed.
THE END.
Thank you all once again for wonderful support. I have a few more stories in the works and hope to have the next one posted soon!
Until next time...