Richelieu's Revenge

Chapter Two

Athos' drinking habits had not improved following their defeat of Milady. As far as he knew she had left Paris, but he remained disgusted by his failure to kill her. She was a spy and an assassin and had richly deserved death. His conflicted feelings had left him shaken despite assurances from the others that his hesitation did him credit. He hadn't even been able to bring himself to turn her in, knowing that death would have been her fate.

Some nights he drank in company with his brothers and on those nights, he found it easier to moderate his intake. On other occasions, when he knew he wasn't fit to be in anybody's company he drank alone and deeply.

Last night had been one of his solitary drinking bouts and this morning he was paying the price. He had his hat pulled low to block out the light that had been stabbing into his eyes. His hand was wrapped around a mug of weak beer while his stomach rebelled at the thought of food. His friends, in deference to his condition, kept their voices low. Occasionally Porthos would forget and his great booming laugh would cause Athos to flinch violently.

They were due on duty at the palace in an hour. Athos contemplated that without pleasure. He was unlikely to disgrace himself but he knew he was less than fighting fit. It was a gross dereliction of duty about which he was ashamed even though he seemed helpless to curb his destructive tendencies.

"Athos."

The shout came from above. He tipped his head back cautiously to look up. "Captain?"

"My office. Now."

"Someone's in trouble," d'Artagnan said.

"What did you do this time?" Aramis asked.

"Nothing so far as I am aware." He stood up carefully and gave himself a few seconds to find his equilibrium.

Climbing the stairs while tired and hungover was no pleasant task but he soon found himself standing before Treville's desk. He made a conscious effort not to sway.

Treville's expression was severe. "You're drunk again," he said accusingly.

Athos decided that didn't merit a response although his mind was sluggishly trying to make sense of the situation. Treville knew of his weakness and had shown himself quite capable of overlooking it. What had changed?

"When you're like this you are a disgrace to your uniform. It has to stop, Athos."

On that they were agreed, it was just the practicality of achieving it that escaped Athos. "May I speak?" He waited for the curt nod. "Have I done something to cause you displeasure?"

"I have tolerated your love of wine because you are the best soldier in the regiment. No-one can better you with a sword and you have a knack for leadership which has been sorely lacking." He held up his hand to forestall Athos' denial. "However, your penchant for overindulgence has come to the attention of the King."

Athos' stomach roiled queasily. "I have never failed in my duty," he protested.

"No one is accusing you of that."

"Then how did the King find out?"

A look of distaste crossed Treville's face. "The Cardinal. He pointed it out to the King last time you were on duty. I was called to account and given a dressing down for allowing such indiscipline within the ranks."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, I can look after myself. It's you I'm worried about. The King doesn't want to see you until you can prove your sobriety. He's also hinted that he would consider stripping you of your commission if you can't satisfy him."

Athos paled. If he were to lose his place in the regiment he would have nothing to live for. It would only be a short time before he drank himself into an early grave. He swallowed bile, grimacing at the unpleasant taste. "What do I do?"

"Coming down from any addictive substance is a hard thing to do but I don't think we have the luxury of time. If you want to keep your position you will have to abstain from drinking from this point forward. It will take willpower and the help of your friends but I have faith in you."

That was more than Athos had in himself. Already his palms were sweating at the thought of cutting off his supply of alcohol. The craving for just one more drink had taken tight hold. He'd seen men battling addiction before and it wasn't pretty. The physical pain had been almost more than the body could bear. Was he mentally and physically strong enough for that?

"I need time to think," he said weakly.

"You have the day. You will remain in the garrison assisting me with all this god-damned paperwork." Treville gestured to the piles of parchment on his desk. "If, by the end of the day, you have decided against this I will tell the King that you have resigned your commission. I suggest you discuss it with the other three. You won't be able to do it without them. Report back here in an hour."

The interview was over, leaving Athos shaken and bereft. The look on his face must have warned the others because all levity drained out of them. He sat down and poured a glass of water. That was enough to provoke raised eyebrows.

"What did Treville want?" d'Artagnan asked.

"He gave me an ultimatum. I either stop drinking or I lose my commission." Saying it out loud didn't make it any more palatable.

There was a collective gasp. "He can't mean that," Aramis said a moment later.

"Why now?" Porthos asked. "It's not like you've never turned up hungover before. And, you're not the only one. We've all been guilty of it."

"Apparently I can thank the Cardinal. He told the King and that got back to Treville."

"That man's a snake," d'Artagnan said. "I thought, after what happened a few weeks ago, that he'd stay in the shadows where he belongs."

"That isn't in Richelieu's nature," Aramis said. "Why he would do this though remains a mystery."

"I'm not sure I agree," Athos said, his thoughts slowly coalescing. "He knows we conspired with the Queen to humiliate him. We should have been expecting repercussions."

"Well, whatever his motives, the more important question is what can we do to help," Aramis said.

"There isn't time to cut down gradually. I need to be cut off from all alcohol and I need you to ensure that my resolve doesn't waver. Can you do that?"

"We'll do it alright," Porthos said, "Even if I have to sit on you to keep you away from the taverns."

Athos gave a half-smile. "I am hoping that won't be necessary. I have been relieved of duty for the day so I suggest we start this evening."

"Whatever you need, my friend. Whatever you need." Aramis squeezed Athos' shoulder, but his expression gave away his thoughts. Would Athos be strong enough to escape from the beast that drove him to drink?

Tbc