The boy who walked through the gate of the garrison was completely ordinary in every way. His stature and build was that of a healthy teen-age boy. His looks, ordinary, neither handsome nor ugly. Dressed as a common citizen, neither poor nor exceedingly wealthy. So it was no surprise he garnered no attention when he walked amongst a crowd of extra-ordinary men. Except from one.
Athos stood with his hand on the bannister of the upper level of the barracks. With his hat pulled down over his eyes and shading his face he observed the goings-on in the yard. Men fine-tuning their skill, boys learning them for the first time. It gave him great pleasure seeing those who improved through hard work. He also kept a mental list of those who needed a slight push in the direction of hard work. His eyes continually scanned, sweeping over and taking in everything. So when a boy walked into the yard, timidly and unnoticed, he noticed.
He watched this boy wander about. He had seen these boys before. Eight out of ten times they came to ask for acceptance into the Musketeers. The other two times it was a plea for help. So he watched, analyzing, considering what the boy was. He walked around the perimeter of the yard, keeping care to hug the walls and get in no one's way. He looked around, trying to find someone who was not busy to plead his case to. Athos watched him as minutes went by and still the boy talked to no one. Did not make his presence known. After five minutes Athos wondered if he would leave, but he never did. He just stood against the wall, waiting.
Sighing, Athos went down the stairs to meet this boy. He could feel the boy's eyes pulled onto him, tracking his movement. He made sure to walk diagonally, through the fray of fighting, towards the boy. He nodded to the men, his friends and brothers, who greeted him. Walking straight up to the boy, standing almost chest-to-chest with him, he swept off his hat.
"May I help you?" He asked curtly but not impolitely. He waited for a response.
The boy gaped like a fish.
"Come, I haven't all day, boy." He compelled him, adding the "insult" of addressing him as a boy. Perhaps that would stir his blood.
"Monsieur," the boys said, bowing low and politely, "I have come to ask for a commission with the Musketeers."
"And what makes you feel you're worthy of such an honor?"
The boys seemed to find his courage and his tongue. He pulled himself up to full height and pulled out his rapier. An ordinary one, Athos noted, no embellishment. But well –made and sturdy. It was certainly a blade that would get a man through a battle.
"Test me against your best. I will rise to your challenge."
Athos smirked, reminded of another boy he knew. Normally when these boys came they spoke about their merit, the deeds they had done and offered letters from fathers and pastors. Rarely did they ever offer to prove themselves, which Athos found odd. Most of the men comprising the Musketeers had indeed yearned to prove themselves. It was vital for a Musketeer to want to prove himself constantly. To his brothers, his captain and even to himself. All the time, and especially in battle. So throwing his hat onto a nearby table unsheathing his own rapier he walked to the center of the training ground.
"Is it you?" The boy asked in surprise. Athos merely raised his eyebrows and waited for the boy to join him.
The boy walked slowly into the center. Musketeers ceased their exercises and circled around to watch the next hopeful.
"Know this, I won't go easy on you."
Athos measured the boy's response to his slight threat. He swallowed and nodded, suddenly loosing his voice once again.
Athos saluted his opponent. The boy saluted back. At least he knew the procedure of a proper duel. But that was just one small aspect among many used to determine a man's worthiness to join the Musketeers. He was going to endeavor to find out a few more.
He charged the boy and set a flurry of attacks against him. Caught by surprise the boy struggled to block them but did so. He regained his footing as Athos backed off, giving him a chance to compose himself. He was not unsympathetic to the trial it was to face off against a Musketeer for the first time, especially one as seasoned as him. So he circled, noting the boy's footwork and waited for the boy to attack him.
The boy did not make him wait long. With a cry he launched himself at Athos but before he could land a blow Athos moved quickly to the side and circumvented the attack all together. The boy spun and met Athos' rapier before he could land the "killing" blow. He backed up and lost his footing.
Athos advanced on him and the boy scurried back on his hands. He brought down his rapier and the boy met it. He pushed both blades closer to the boy's chest. Leaning in on the boy he saw the sweat on his brow. He felt the strain of his arms, pushing back against the weight.
He looked straight into the boy's eyes.
He backed off, sheathing his rapier. He saw the surprise in the boy's expression. He offered his hand and the boy took it.
Slowly everyone went back to their work, leaving them in the center.
"You are not without skill, though you could use some practice on your footwork. But I do not think the Musketeers is for you."
Once he made a decision it was final, rarely did he ever change his mind. But he always tried to save their dignity. It was a brave thing to come and try and he was appreciative of that.
He was waiting for the protest, the anger, the indignation. But none came. The boy nodded slowly, as if processing the words and accepting them.
"I thank you, monsieur, for the opportunity. I am only sorry I could not convince you better."
So Athos watched another boy leave the garrison. He would never be a Musketeer.
He would still be ordinary. And perhaps, he mused, he was doing the boy a favor.