Richelieu's Revenge
Chapter Eight
The Cardinal kept Treville waiting for almost an hour. Needless to say the Captain's temper was frayed by the time he was admitted to Richelieu's presence.
"Captain. What can I do for you?"
"Three of your men attacked Porthos two nights ago."
Richelieu finished reading the document in front of him and signed it with a flourish. "I heard."
"Well, what are you doing about it?"
"They have been suspended from duty without pay for a week and confined to barracks."
Treville's ire increased. "That is hardly a suitable punishment."
"There are two sides to every story, Treville. They say Porthos was cheating them at cards."
"Even if he were that doesn't justify stabbing him."
"It was a tavern brawl that got slightly out of hand. That's all."
"Slightly?" Treville was incensed. "He nearly died."
"But he didn't. You can't expect me to sacrifice three of my best men for one dishonest Musketeer."
"Porthos is not dishonest."
"There we must agree to disagree. Now, is there something more I can help you with? I am very busy."
"My men won't let this rest."
"Tell them to be very careful. Premeditated violence will be harshly dealt with. I suggest, Captain, that you spend more time controlling your men and less telling me how to do my job."
"This isn't over. I will petition the King."
"His Majesty has far more important things on his mind. This is a petty feud which should be forgotten."
"The life of one of my men isn't petty. I warn you that any further attempt to kill or injure on of my Musketeers will provoke a severe backlash."
"Dear me. How indiscrete you are. If the King were to hear of your threats he might decide you are no longer fit to be in charge of the Musketeer regiment. It would be a pity if he were to decide they are too undisciplined to survive."
Treville reined in his temper. This was no idle threat. If wholesale warfare broke out between the Musketeers and the Red Guard the results could be catastrophic. With the uncomfortable knowledge that he had lost this battle Treville left.
TMTMTM
Treville decided to make his rounds of his men. Aramis and Athos were both on duty, guarding the throne room. The King, surrounded by his sycophantic courtiers, was in a good mood. The Queen, serene in the midst of her blossoming pregnancy, sat beside him. For a while he surreptitiously watched his men. Whenever a member of the Red Guard came into the chamber Aramis' expression would turn openly murderous. He could see Athos speaking softly to his companion, no doubt trying to calm him down. He decided that it was a blessing that the three men in question were confined to barracks even if only for a short time.
He walked over and stood in front of his two Musketeers. "I have just spoken to the Cardinal. The three men who attacked Porthos have been punished. The matter is at an end."
"Have they been handed over to the Court for judgement?" Aramis asked aggressively.
"No. Listen to me, Aramis. The Cardinal would like nothing better than for you to pick a fight with them. If any one of them turns up injured or dead you're the one who will face justice."
"Where's the justice for Porthos?"
Treville shook his head. "Sometimes you just have to let it go. I am ordering you, both of you, not to seek retribution. If you do, I won't be able to protect you."
"We understand," Athos said.
Aramis, very pointedly, failed to acknowledge the order. Treville would have challenged him on it but the King called him over to discuss a hunt he wanted organized for the next day.
"You heard the Captain," Athos said, once they were alone.
"Yes."
"If you disobey him you will hand victory to the Cardinal. Is that what you want?"
"I want someone to pay for what happened to Porthos."
"Sometimes life is unfair. I want your word that you won't go seeking trouble."
Aramis' shoulders slumped. "It appears I have no choice. But, know this, Athos. If trouble comes looking for me I won't run from it."
"I know."
TMTMTM
A week passed and Porthos continued to recover. He had been released from the infirmary and was permitted to undertake some light exercise. It would still be another week or so before he was fit for duty. On the Saturday night d'Artagnan persuaded Aramis to accompany him to a tavern. There was no longer talk about challenging the men responsible to a duel and Aramis' mood had gradually returned to normal.
They ordered wine and food and settled down to a companionable evening.
"Athos is doing well," d'Artagnan said. "He hasn't touched a drop of wine for three weeks."
"When he puts his mind to something there is very little he can't do. His will power is strong."
"And Porthos is healing nicely."
"He was fortunate." A shadow crossed Aramis' face.
D'Artagnan noticed and decided that a change of subject was necessary. "The King is planning a series of hunts now that there's been a break in the weather. There's even talk of moving the court to Fontainebleau for a while. I don't suppose the Queen will come. It wouldn't be very comfortable for her to travel."
"She never was very fond of hunting. She prefers quieter pursuits."
"It would be nice to get out of the city though before winter really sets in."
"The country air would do Porthos good too." Aramis smiled at the serving girl who was delivering bowls of stew and a platter of bread.
"It's certainly better than standing guard at those interminable council meetings."
"That's true. Relations with Spain have certainly soured lately. It's all they ever seem to discuss."
D'Artagnan dipped a piece of bread into his bowl. "Do you think it will come to war?"
"The political climate is unsettled across much of Europe. Now the King of Spain is laying claim to lands historically owned by France. War is a possibility."
"What's it like?"
Aramis thought for a moment. "Much of the time you're waiting for something to happen. Conditions in the camp are primitive. Food becomes scarce and boredom sets in. Then, when there is fighting, it is brutal hand to hand combat. Afterwards you have to deal with the dead and injured. No, I wouldn't wish for another war."
"Well, well. If it isn't two of the Musketeers."
Aramis was on his feet before the sneering voice had finished speaking. He found himself almost nose to nose with Perod, who was flanked by Giroud and another Red Guard that Aramis didn't recognise.
"What do you want?" Aramis asked.
"Thanks to your friend we haven't been able to leave the barracks for the last week."
"That's the least you deserved."
D'Artagnan stood up and laid a hand on Aramis' arm. "We're not looking for trouble," he said.
"That's a shame," Perod said. "Because me and the boys need to let off some steam."
"Which of you cowards stabbed Porthos?" Aramis asked.
"Now that's just insulting, calling us cowards. We're more than a match for you and your friends."
"Who was it?" Aramis persisted.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Perod grinned nastily.
Aramis lashed out with his right fist, catching Perod on the chin. The Red Guard staggered backwards, colliding with a table. When he regained his balance he glared at Aramis.
"What was that for?"
"You're obviously looking for a fight and we're happy to oblige."
"Aramis!" d'Artagnan hissed.
"Oh, I'll fight you alright but not here. You've insulted my honour. Dawn tomorrow at the Luxembourg Gardens."
"Swords or pistols?"
"I know of your reputation with a gun and I'm not feeling suicidal. Swords."
"Aramis, think about what you're doing," d'Artagnan said.
"I didn't go looking for this but I'm not going to back away from it either. Will you come with me as my second?"
Faced with the inevitable, d'Artagnan could only agree reluctantly.
Once Perod and his friends had gone Aramis sat down to resume his interrupted meal. He was smiling happily and there was no sign of any apprehension about the coming duel.
D'Artagnan looked troubled. "Don't you think that was a little too convenient? It's like they came here specifically to goad you into a duel."
Aramis shrugged. "It's all the same to me."
"What is Athos going to say? Or Treville?"
"They don't need to know. This is just between us."
"Is there anything I can say to persuade you to change your mind?"
"I won't be branded a coward. The challenge has been issued and accepted. Can I count on you?"
"Of course."
"Good. Have some more wine."
The mood of the evening had been shattered. Try as he might d'Artagnan couldn't shake the thought that this was all part of the Cardinal's plan.
Tbc