Richelieu's Revenge
Chapter Four
Cool air slapped d'Artagnan's overheated cheeks as he ran out of the room. His first instinct was to rouse Aramis and Porthos but, as he raised his fist to hammer on Aramis' door, he hesitated. He had caused this crisis by falling asleep. It was up to him to solve it.
He walked hurriedly away and turned the corner into the yard. All was in darkness and very quiet. Wait! He almost missed the sound of someone speaking. It was so soft that, at first, he thought he had imagined it. Then he heard an uneven footfall. He walked forward, straining his eyes to see. Yes, there was definitely someone there.
"Athos?"
The footfalls ceased and then resumed. Gradually the figure drew nearer and d'Artagnan saw that he had been right.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked.
Athos stopped in front of him, his features indistinct in the darkness. "I couldn't stay still. It feels like ants are crawling under my skin," he said plaintively. "Walking helps."
"Do you want some company?"
There was no answer but, when d'Artagnan fell into step beside Athos, he wasn't turned away. They walked and walked and, when Athos stumbled, d'Artagnan was there to hold his arm and steady him. Gradually the sky began to lighten. Athos was becoming less sure on his feet as exhaustion overtook him.
"I think it's time to lie down," d'Artagnan said. "The day will be starting soon."
Athos' brief nod was all the acknowledgement he received but it was enough. He steered Athos back to his room and sat him on the bed. After pulling off Athos' boots and seeing him settled in bed he returned to his chair.
"How do you feel?"
"Tired."
"Go to sleep. You're doing well. The worst will soon be over."
It wasn't long after that when Aramis arrived. D'Artagnan put a finger to his lips to tell him to be quiet. Aramis nodded and pulled up a chair.
"How is he?" he whispered.
"He was up most of the night. I think he will sleep for a while now."
"Go and get some rest. I will stay with him."
D'Artagnan yawned and stood up. "Call me if you need me." He closed the door gently behind him.
TMTMTM
For a while it was quiet. Aramis sat by the bedside and read. Then Athos began to move fitfully, pushing his blankets down.
"Hot," he mumbled.
Aramis leaned forward and rested his hand on Athos' forehead. Heat radiated off him. Suddenly Athos sat up, his eyes unfocussed.
"Fire," he said, his voice surprisingly strong. "The house is on fire. Get out!" He began to climb out of bed but Aramis pushed him back.
"There is no need to worry, my friend. You have a fever. There is no fire." He could see that his words weren't penetrating the fog surrounding Athos.
"She's here." Athos looked at Aramis but there was no recognition in his dull green eyes. "She's supposed to be dead."
Aramis recognised the nightmare that was gripping Athos. When admitting that Milady was his wife Athos had also described the fire that had destroyed the de la Fere chateaux.
"You are at the garrison. All is well." He collected a bowl and a cloth. "We just need to get your temperature down." He touched Athos' face with the cloth and Athos flinched. "Relax. Let me take care of you."
Athos lay back down and his eyes closed. Aramis continued to bathe his face and neck. Then Athos started to shake.
"She should have killed me," he said. His eyes were closed, and Aramis couldn't tell if he was awake.
"That would have been a great shame. Your friends would miss you. I would miss you."
Athos quieted after that. Aramis tried to return to his reading but couldn't concentrate. It disturbed him that Athos put such a small price on his life. Milady had done deep damage to a fundamentally good man. What was even more worrying was the fact that Athos still seemed to have feelings for her.
Treville came to check on them at lunch time. He brought broth in a cup for Athos and bread and cheese for Aramis.
"How is he?"
"He was in the grip of a nightmare earlier but that has passed."
Athos sighed and opened his eyes. "Captain." His voice was croaky, and Aramis hurried to bring him some water.
"How do you feel?" Treville asked.
"Tired and achy."
"Can you eat?"
Athos looked doubtful. "I can try." His hands were unsteady, but he managed half the broth before giving up. "How much longer?"
"At least another day. I'm sorry," Aramis said.
"Not your fault."
Aramis leaned over and checked his temperature again. "You still have a fever. You should get some more rest."
"I can't lie here any longer."
Treville helped to get Athos settled in a chair by the window before returning to his duties.
"How's your stomach?" Aramis asked.
Athos grimaced. "Better than it was."
"That's a positive sign."
"I'll take your word for that."
Aramis patted him on the shoulder before pulling up a chair. "Do you really think Richelieu is punishing us?"
"I wouldn't put it past him. He doesn't like anyone else getting the upper hand."
"Then he is unlikely to stop here."
"That is my fear. You should all be on your guard."
"We will but getting you well is our priority."
"I am grateful. I couldn't have done this alone."
"You are never alone."
There was the ghost of a smile on Athos' face as he answered. "I know."
TMTMTM
Richelieu was content. Telling the King about Athos' drink problem had been immensely satisfying. Watching Treville trying to defend his man had amused him, particularly as the King had been in a difficult mood that day. He would have to prod the King to insist that Athos present himself at the palace. The humiliation would be complete when Athos was stripped of his commission. What would the other three do then? It would send shock waves through their little group and would be a blow for Treville.
He leaned back in his chair. Who to target next? He'd been watching Aramis and the Queen. They'd been careful, but he had seen the odd occasion when they had looked at one another with longing. It wasn't enough to take to the King yet. He would have to wait for them to betray themselves first. He frowned. He would be damned before he saw a Musketeer's bastard sitting on the throne. He amused himself by imagining a world where the King threw over his marriage to Anne, sending her and her illegitimate child into exile.
Sadly, that didn't deal with the question of the succession. It was looking increasingly likely that the King was impotent. That left his brother, Gaston, as the heir. He was a spineless fool who had rebelled against the King then crawled back to him begging for mercy. He'd been lucky that he'd only been sent into exile like his scheming mother. Fortunately, it would be many years before he had to deal with that problem.
In the meantime he had the pleasurable prospect of damaging the Musketeers. Yes, he knew what he was going to do next. He sent for the Captain of the Red Guard.
Tbc