This is the final chapter and some of you might find it unsatisfying. What you have to remember is that Richelieu was the most powerful man in France and the Musketeers were just common soldiers. They had got the better of him once. It was never going to happen again. The end of the chapter takes us to a few days prior to the start of season 2. Of course, Richelieu didn't die at this stage in history, it was all a contrivance to account for the departure of the actor. However, I have followed the events in the series and you will find references to events that were to happen in episode 2.1. Thanks for reading.

Richelieu's Revenge

Chapter Sixteen

Richelieu was at breakfast when Treville barged in.

"Treville. This is most inconvenient."

"D'Artagnan was shot last night."

"Oh dear." Richelieu reached for another pastry. "Is he dead?"

"No." Treville looked for some change of expression and saw none. The Cardinal was far too good at this game to give away his thoughts.

"Your men have become remarkably accident prone recently."

"You and I both know that this was no accident. Neither was Porthos' stabbing."

"Are you accusing me of something, Captain?"

"Ever since the…incident with the Queen my best men have been targeted. First you tried to have Athos' commission stripped from him. Then one of your men stabbed Porthos which led to Aramis and d'Artagnan being arrested. Now d'Artagnan has been ambushed and shot."

Richelieu took a sip of wine. "You make me sound positively Machiavellian. Why would I trouble to go after your men when I have so many other more important matters to attend to? In case you hadn't noticed we are inching ever closer to war with Spain."

"You don't like losing."

"No-one does. Tell me, do you have any evidence of my involvement?"

Treville hesitated. "Apart from pressing for Athos to lose his commission and for Aramis and d'Artagnan to be executed, no. But, I warn you, if anything else happens to them I will go to the Queen and we will expose your plot."

"You would really destabilize France at such a critical time?"

That gave Treville pause. Richelieu was right about the looming war with Spain. If he were to be overthrown now it would leave the King isolated at a time when wise counsel was necessary. He might dislike Richelieu and his methods but the Cardinal was a gifted statesman. "You know I would never do anything to the detriment of the King or country."

"Precisely, Captain. So I suggest you keep your wild accusations to yourself. The lives of four Musketeers are nothing when compared with the future of France. Having said that, I think your men have suffered enough. They have nothing to fear from me."

Treville relayed that message to the Musketeers when he went to check on d'Artagnan's progress. "It's as close as he will ever come to a confession."

"Do you believe him?" Athos asked.

"He might be duplicitous but, yes, I do. Relations with Spain are fraught and only the Cardinal's silver tongue has prevented war so far. I doubt if he has the time or the energy to pursue his vendetta against you."

"So he will go unpunished?" d'Artagnan asked. He was still pale and in pain but his wound was clean and he was free of infection.

"I'm afraid so." Treville took his leave after thanking Constance for her care of d'Artagnan.

"It hardly seems right," Porthos complained.

"He's the First Minister of France," Athos reminded them. "We were lucky the last time to find proof of his involvement in the plot to kill the Queen. We were unlikely to be so fortunate again."

"We could have appealed to the Queen," d'Artagnan suggested.

Aramis shook his head. "She recognised how useful he was. That's why she didn't immediately go to the King. We have no proof that we could offer her to make her change her mind. No, Treville is right, we will have to be content with his assertion that his feud with us is over."

It was a bitter pill to swallow after everything that had befallen them but their hands were tied. Aramis checked d'Artagnan's wound before he, Athos and Porthos returned to the garrison. They left Constance in charge of the invalid.

At midday she brought him some soup and stayed with him while he ate.

"It's good of you to look after me," he said.

"I would do the same for anyone." She saw his crestfallen expression and steeled herself for what she had to say. "This changes nothing. You know that?"

He looked at her steadily and didn't know how clear his longing was. "I know. You made your choice and I respect that."

Her heart breaking she left him alone. In the privacy of her bedroom she gave way to a storm of tears. Yes, she had made her choice and she regretted it every second of the day. But, there was no way for them to be together and she needed to find a way to reconcile herself to that truth. Meanwhile d'Artagnan, alone and in pain, was struggling just as much as she was. To him, a world without Constance was like a world without sunlight. He drifted off to sleep with the memory of her in his arms and wasn't aware of the single tear sliding down his cheek.

TMTMTM

Four months later.

A servant entered the King's private dining room where he and the Queen were eating breakfast. The man hurried over and bent down, speaking quietly. The King's fork fell from his fingers and clanged harshly against the plate.

Anne leaned forward, concerned by the stricken look on her husband's face. "Louis? What's wrong?"

"The Cardinal."

Her heart lurched. What had the Cardinal done? She felt her child kick in her womb and a wave of fear washed over her. She was due to deliver any day. Had the Cardinal chosen now to express his suspicions to the King? Then common sense reasserted itself. That wasn't the kind of news a servant would be sent to deliver.

Louis stood up and looked down at her. "He's ill."

Curious, she followed the King to the Cardinal's bed chamber. Richelieu lay propped up by pillows surrounded by frightened servants and the royal physician.

"What's wrong with him?" Louis demanded to know.

The doctor bowed. "He's had a seizure, Your Majesty."

"He'll be alright though, won't he?"

"It's too soon to tell."

Anne looked at Richelieu who had his eyes closed. His hands lay lax on the covers. Suddenly he didn't look so formidable.

"We will know more when he wakes up," the doctor said.

Louis sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the Cardinal's right hand. "He's so cold."

"The blood flow has been interrupted, Sire."

"Cardinal? Cardinal, can you hear me? You can't leave me. You have to wake up."

Despite his pleading Richelieu lay as if dead. Only the slight rise and fall of the sheet showed that he was still breathing.

Anne walked to Louis' side. "Is there anything I can do?"

He gave her a wan smile. "You rest, my dear. Our son will be here any day now."

"Send for me if you need me."

He nodded distractedly, and she left. Richelieu's death would be disastrous. She hated and feared him, but nothing could detract from his skills as First Minister. She reached her rooms and sent her maid for Captain Treville.

TMTMTM

Later the same day Treville returned to the garrison in somber mood. He handed his horse over to the stable boy and walked across the yard. He sent the first Musketeer he encountered to fetch Athos, Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan.

"At ease," he instructed after they had gathered in his room.

They all looked at him enquiringly.

"I have just come from the palace. The Cardinal is dying."

"Are you sure?" Athos asked.

"Yes. He had a seizure which has paralyzed his right side. It is only a matter of time before he has another more severe one."

"The King must be distraught," Aramis said.

"His Majesty is not taking it well. It couldn't have happened at a worse time. King Philip has moved troops closer to the border. It is clear provocation."

"Who will take his place as First Minister?" d'Artagnan asked.

"Good question. There are several candidates but none as accomplished as Richelieu."

"I never thought I'd be sorry to hear this news," Porthos said.

"I'm sure he will be hailed as a hero who wore himself out in the service of France," Athos said cynically.

"His death could destabilize the country. Already rumours are starting in the town. I'll be sending out patrols to keep the peace," Treville said. "And I have a task for you. Word has reached us of a man with intelligence about the Spanish movements. He will be at the village of Senlis in four days from now. I want you to meet him and escort him here."

"Who is this man?" Aramis asked.

"I don't have a name."

"How do we know this is legitimate?" Athos asked.

"We don't so be careful. In the meantime you have your duties to attend to. Dismissed."

TMTMTM

Richelieu lay in bed, his mind clear and his body unresponsive. He knew he was dying and raged against it. He had too much to accomplish yet. His entire adult life had been dedicated to the welfare of France. He had guided the young King, foiled the Queen Mother's attempt to usurp the throne, and had plotted and schemed to make France one of the strongest countries in Europe. To die at such a critical time left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Then there was the Queen and her bastard. It was too late now to tell the King. The seizure had affected his speech, leaving it slow and slurred. He would never be able to persuade the King that the Queen had committed treason with a common soldier. He could, however, send a message to Aramis. Laboriously, he asked his attendants to send for his confessor.

When the man arrived Richelieu struggled to impart his message. Aramis was to be taken to the church of Saint-Eustache and shown Adele's burial place. Then he was to be told that all his secrets were known to the Cardinal. Father Bertrand, his confessor, was openly curious about the meaning behind the message but Richelieu was not willing to elaborate. Let the truth come out in its own time. Then, exhausted, he fell asleep.

Two hours later the bells of all the churches in Paris tolled for the passing of France's First Minister. He died at a dark time in France's history, taking the Queen's secret to the grave.

The End