Richelieu's Revenge
Chapter Fourteen
"You shouldn't have let him go," Athos said.
He and Porthos had returned to the garrison to be briefed by Aramis on the latest developments.
"How was I supposed to stop him?" Aramis asked, offended.
"Aramis is right. Nothin' stops d'Artagnan once he makes up his mind about somethin'."
"It was foolish of him."
"He cares about Constance and she is in trouble," Aramis said.
"Didn't you warn him about what people will say?" Athos asked.
"Of course I did. It made no difference."
Athos sighed. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Well, gentlemen, I suggest we eat and then go to Madame Bonacieux's to strategise."
They had dinner and then walked out into the streets of Paris. It was only a short distance to Constance's house so they were soon knocking at her door. It opened a crack and d'Artagnan peered out. He grinned when he saw them and pulled it open wide. Aramis noted that he was armed with a pistol.
Constance was in the parlour and looked taken aback by this sudden influx of Musketeers.
"Good evening, Madame Bonacieux," Athos said, removing his hat. "We have come to lend what aid we can."
Constance flushed. "That really isn't necessary."
"I can assure you that it is," Aramis said. "Someone has to keep d'Artagnan out of trouble."
"I'll fetch some wine." She quickly returned with a tray loaded with four goblets and two bottles of wine. Athos declined but they others accepted and were soon sitting comfortably before the fire.
"I think I have a solution to the rumours about the quality of the cloth," Athos said. "Treville was talking about needing new winter cloaks made. I'm sure we can persuade him to buy the cloth from your husband. Once word gets out people should stop questioning his wares. The Musketeers would never buy anything substandard."
"You would do that?" Constance asked.
"Of course." Aramis took a mouthful of wine and swallowed before continuing. "We know the rumours are false."
"The other problem is more vexing," Athos continued. "For reasons which we don't need to go into we have attracted the enmity of the Cardinal. It's possible the break-ins are part of his plan to punish us."
"But why involve me? I've done nothing to him."
"We think it's his way of drawing out d'Artagnan," Aramis said.
"Then you have to go back to the garrison." Panicked, Constance appealed to d'Artagnan.
"I'm not leaving you until your husband returns."
"Please, d'Artagnan. I don't want anything to happen to you."
D'Artagnan crossed his arms and looked stubborn.
"I think one of us should stay on watch outside," Porthos said.
"I don't need a babysitter."
"That's as maybe, but we have Constance to consider," Athos said diplomatically.
"I can't ask any of you to stand guard outside all night," Constance said.
"It is no hardship. I have just come off a night shift and slept well today. I will stay," Aramis offered.
"Alright, but I still think you're all overreacting." D'Artagnan capitulated in the face of his brothers' determination.
They finished their wine and Aramis pulled his cloak tightly around his body. Although the winter had not been bitterly cold there was still a chill edge to the wind at night. Out of habit he checked his pistol even though he knew it was spotlessly clean and loaded.
The three Musketeers took their leave of Constance and d'Artagnan and returned to the street. Aramis looked around for the best vantage point, settling upon the wall of the house opposite Constance's front door.
"I'll do regular rounds of the house," he said.
"Be careful," Athos said. "There's not much light tonight which means there's lots of places for someone to hide."
"Don't concern yourself. We'll be fine."
Somewhat reluctantly Athos and Porthos left. Aramis took up his position and waited.
TMTMTM
D'Artagnan lay on the bed in his old room fully dressed. His unsheathed sword rested next to him and his pistol was close at hand. As he waited his mind wandered to the room next door where Constance was sleeping. They had never made love in the marital bed. Although they were already betraying Bonacieux they had, by unspoken agreement, avoided the room. Now d'Artagnan couldn't clear his mind of the memories and regrets.
He was still awake when the sound of breaking glass disturbed the peace of the night. He was instantly on his feet, sword and pistol at the ready. He rushed out of the room to be met by Constance.
"Get back and stay in your room," he ordered.
For a second it looked like she was going to argue but then she nodded and retreated. D'Artagnan warily walked down the stairs and into the parlour. A large stone lay on the floor surrounded by fragments of glass. He headed for the front door and pulled it open. As he reached the street he was joined by Aramis.
"Did you see anything?" d'Artagnan asked.
"No. I was checking the back of the house when I heard the glass breaking."
They split up to check the immediate vicinity. D'Artagnan had just reached the side of the building when he heard a shot, felt a sharp pain and then felt nothing at all.
When Aramis rushed around the corner he saw d'Artagnan lying on the ground unmoving. He scanned the area, aware that d'Artagnan was horribly exposed. When he reached his brother's side he hunkered down and peered through the gloom to see if there were any signs of life.
"D'Artagnan!" Constance hurtled around the corner.
"Get back inside," Aramis yelled. "It isn't safe out here."
"But…"
"Don't argue with me. Get inside. D'Artagnan will never forgive me if anything happens to you."
Their eyes met and Constance nodded miserably before hurrying back to the house. Aramis gripped d'Artagnan under the shoulders and began to pull him towards the front door. Another shot sounded and the ball hit the wall behind Aramis' head. He redoubled his efforts. More shots were fired, cutting off his route to the door. He dragged d'Artagnan behind the well and ducked down out of sight. In the darkness he couldn't see where the wound was. He pulled off his gloves and could feel the stickiness of blood coating the front of d'Artagnan's doublet. Aramis eased him up to see if he could feel anything on his back. There was no exit wound that he could find which meant that the ball was still lodged in the young man's body.
D'Artagnan lay lax under his hands as he pressed his fingers to the pulse point on his neck. He swore and pressed harder, then sat back, careful to keep his head below the level of the rim of the well.
"D'Artagnan, can you hear me?"
There was no response either by word or movement. Doors were starting to open in response to the gunfire although no-one was stupid enough to venture outside. Aramis bowed his head and prayed.
Tbc