Part Three

Chess is all about getting the king into check, you see.
It's about killing the father.
I would say that chess has more to do with the art of murder than it does with the art of war.

Chapter Thirteen

They came for him early that morning. The shackles were loosed from his limbs, but there was no relief. Rope took its place, and his arms were wrenched into place for them to tie it. Burning pain shot up his arm, but Aramis scarcely had the strength to voice it. In any case, pain had become a near constant thing, ebbing and rising, but never leaving. It was an old friend by now.

Aramis was led out of his cell, flanked by guards. One pulled mercilessly at the rope, heedless of his stumbling steps, drawing him onwards, though his legs threatened to give in. Another pressed in with fetid breath and hissed:

"You're going to die."

Aramis flinched away and they laughed. But it was the intrusion he recoiled at more than the words. Death was coming. It was what he deserved.

He was taken to another room and pushed down to the floor. Lecocq sat before him. The captain lounged with crossed legs while he chewed at a piece of meat.

"I suppose you think you're getting a last meal?" He tore a few more strips from the bone and then threw it at Aramis. "That's all you'll get from me."

Aramis didn't touch it. Though he stared at it absently.

"Look at me."

Nothing.

"Look at me, Aramis."

Nothing.

A small gesture to the guard and Aramis' head was yanked back by a fistful of hair.

"You're going to die alone. You'll die, just like my men when you blew them to pieces. But you will die alone, and there will be nobody to mourn over your worthless carcass." Lecocq got to his feet and came to tower over Aramis. "This is your last chance to give up your friend. You may not have to die today, not if you reveal who you worked with."

"But… I will die." Came Aramis' broken voice.

"Maybe not, if those you worked with played the greater part. Perhaps you would be imprisoned instead. But if you give me no names then you accept their responsibility. You give your life when perhaps it should be others paying that price."

"I will die."

"Give them up and you may yet live."

"Today, tomorrow, a year, ten years… I will die. We all die." Aramis shuddered in a breath. "I've been here longer than I should. Let it end."

Lecocq stepped back and watched Aramis as if he were trying to work out a puzzle.

"I see. You think your life so worthless you will cast it away for them? For this Romero? What makes his life worth any more than yours?"

"He is my friend."

"So you have said before. I believe Athos and Porthos were once your friends, and you would not be so eager to throw your life away for them now. Why is Romero different?"

"He understands. He sees the truth. He..."

"He is a murderer. Just like you." Lecocq's face seemed to darken. "Those were good men you killed. Men with families, men with so much to live for. Why did you do it?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Aramis reached his trembling, bound hands forwards in supplication. They were batted away by the guard.

"Why did you turn against your own?!" Lecocq yelled, spittle flecking the air.

"I'm filthy, covered in blood and sin… I'm sorry. So sorry…"

The blow was hard. Aramis hit the ground and choked on the taste of blood in his mouth.

The guard dragged him back up. "I didn't want-"

Again Lecocq struck him, but this time he was left lying on the floor. A rough booted foot pushed Aramis over onto his back.

Lecocq hissed down at him. "You will die today. And when you do, know this: There will be no last rites for you. Once the life has been strangled from your wretched body you will be cut down and thrown in a ditch. No prayers, no blessings, no grave with your name. Your name will be spat upon, and then it will be forgotten."

Lecocq stood over Aramis, his breath heaving in and out. Aramis just stared up at him through hazy eyes. And then Lecocq broke away, he returned to his table and sat down quietly to finish his meal.

The guard heaved Aramis upright again and they watched Lecocq in silence. He finished his meal and turned his attention to some documents. There was no sound save for the rustling of parchment.

Aramis tentatively brought his hands up to wipe the blood away from his lips. Though it was quiet, the air was charged with tension. This was the moment that seemed unbearable. What was to come… well, it would be over with a short, sharp drop. This lingering on his knees, wallowing in pain and guilt, waiting… He could almost feel the ghosts at his shoulders. It wasn't the cruel grip of the guards holding him in place. He was pinned by the hands of the dead.

The dead were waiting to drag him down. The ones he had wronged. They would bury him and he would become what he deserved. The shadowed corners seemed to hold an accusing gaze. Aramis bowed his head and closed his eyes, but there was no escape. They moved closer and pressed in. Cold breath on the back of his neck made him shudder. Whispers… you're going to die … With dirt in his eyes, and throat clogged with earth. No breath to scream. No breath. No...

"Take him up, I will be with you shortly."

The moment shattered. Everything fell away as Aramis was roughly pulled to his feet.

He was dragged along the passageways of the castle, past sneering faces and muttered curses. They reached a door and he was held in place.

"Wait here."

The noise of a crowd filtered through the door. A lone voice rose above the others, but the muffled words could not be made out.

Aramis stared down at the floor with his head bowed. He tried to steel himself for these last few moments on earth, for he deserved death, some part of him welcomed it, but no man could truly face his end without fear in his heart. Death was a strange concept. Inevitable as it was, for the young it hardly seemed real. As a soldier Aramis had felt death brush far too close, but it had never claimed him. Cheating death was part of the rush.

It had finally caught up with him now. It waited just beyond that door. This was real. This was happening.

This was inescapable.

Suddenly Lecocq was there. He gripped Aramis' chin and forced his head up. "Don't think that I am at all interested in you. For all the time I have spent on you, do not mistake it for interest. I do not care who you are or where you came from. All I care for is justice, and with your death I have it. We will rebuild while you are forgotten. So when you stand with that noose around your neck just think on the fact you failed. All of this was for nothing."

But there was still hope. Romero lived. At that thought a half smile pulled at Aramis' lips.

Lecocq narrowed his eyes. "Why are you smiling?"

"This isn't the end."

"It is for you."

Lecocq stepped aside and pushed open the door. Aramis was propelled outside and he flinched away as it hit him all at once. The sudden bright light of day, the cacophony of the crowd, and then the vegetables and rocks. These people were angry, stirred into a frenzy by the man speaking at the scaffold.

His bellowing voice echoed around the courtyard. "And here he is! The traitor!"

Another stream of missiles came Aramis' way. He tried to shield his face with his hands as a well aimed stone struck his head. His body took the rest of the pelting. When the volley subsided Aramis' hands fell away, he squinted and tried to make out the scaffold up ahead.

"Get moving." There was a shove in Aramis' back and he stumbled forwards.

A path lined with guards had been made through the crowd. They pressed in and were pushed back, all the time roaring and jeering. Aramis searched their faces, twisted with sneers and anger. Some part of him kept looking for Athos and Porthos, but they were nowhere to be seen. Of course they would be missing. They didn't care for him, they never had. Why would they be here when he needed them the most? He was suddenly struck with their absence. He needed them. He needed the Athos and Porthos he had back in Paris. But they were a fiction, a lie. This was the truth, the cold, hard, reality… He was alone.

The scaffold loomed large before him. The noose swung lazily in the breeze. Aramis' throat closed up and his legs threatened to give way, but the guard's grip tightened, preventing him from crashing to the ground. He felt more hands, cold hands, against his skin. They were coming to claim him.

Aramis was dragged onward, though his feet scrabbled against the ground, trying to resist. Every animal lost its mind on the verge of death. Men were no different. They all succumbed to that desperate instinct to fight and live. A hard punch to the stomach had Aramis doubled over wheezing for breath. The guards used the opportunity to push him on towards the stairs. Aramis heaved himself upright and looked at them, he didn't want to go up, he didn't want to… Out of the corner of his eye a cloaked figure gave Aramis a strange smile and turned away. It looked like Romero. A spark of hope lit up Aramis' heart. Of course Romero wouldn't abandon him! Of course Romero had a plan. There would be a rescue, he wasn't alone!

Aramis took the stairs slowly and stood at the front of the scaffold where the guards placed him. They turned to make preparations, and he was granted a moment to survey the baying crowd. He looked for any sign of Romero, a horse, a rescue...

And then hope died suddenly as Aramis found Marguerite staring up at him from the front of the crowd. Romero was surely as real as she was. There would be no rescue. Her eyes were tainted with sorrow.

Aramis, please!

She thought the fault was hers.

But it was his.

Only his.

The fight suddenly went out of Aramis as the crushing weight of his guilt returned. He deserved this. For all of the people he had ruined and wronged. He looked out over the crowd and felt their seething anger. They were right to hate him. He was an abomination.

The guards pulled Aramis backwards to place the rope around his neck. It tightened. His eyes welled up. The crowd roared with delight. Aramis came to realise that he wasn't going to die alone. Far from it. He was going to die a spectacle.

The last sensation he would take from this world would be the sound of cheering voices.

"Any last words?" Lecocq's voice came from somewhere behind.

Aramis opened his mouth, but Lecocq moved forwards to pull the rope tight around his neck.

"No? How unfortunate." The captain pressed in uncomfortably close and hissed in Aramis' ear. "You don't get last words. There will be nothing left to remember you by."

Lecocq stepped away and went to strut up and down the front of the scaffold. "This man before you is a traitor! He has betrayed every one of you in the most despicable way possible! He has blood on his hands, the blood of your people! Your husbands, fathers and sons!"

A hush fell on the crowd as they listened to his words.

Lecocq came to settle himself in front of Aramis. He stared for a long moment before speaking with a quiet voice. "René d'Herblay… Do you think I should give them your name? Give them something to hate? So that every d'Herblay across the land is cursed to their last breath? Or is it better to let you die in obscurity?"

As Lecocq turned back to the crowd he dramatically threw out a hand to point at Aramis. "This man-

"Stop!" A lone voice called out from the throng of people below. "Stop this at once!"

Lecocq tried to continue. "This man-"

"Is the wrong one!"

The voice was closer now. With the rope around his neck restraining him Aramis couldn't move to see who it was, but it sounded familiar.

"My friend, he is guilty." Lecocq crouched down at the edge of the scaffold to speak to the newcomer.

"No, you are about to hang the wrong man!"

A muttering set up amongst the people. Lecocq's eyes roamed over them warily.

The man continued. "Bring him down from there. Let us speak privately and I will explain everything."

Lecocq looked at Aramis over his shoulder and considered those words. Everybody was talking amongst themselves about this strange turn of events. To hang Aramis now, after he had been declared innocent, would not look good.

"Take him down." Lecocq begrudgingly ordered.

The rope was removed and Aramis nearly sank to his knees with relief. Guards moved in to take his arms again, they kept him on his feet and dragged him to the stairs.

At the bottom he came face to face with his saviour. Brother Lussier.

"Thank you, thank you…"

Brother Lussier offered a wearied smiled, but Aramis was whisked away to the castle before anything else could be said.

~oOo~

They found themselves back in Lecocq's room. Aramis stood to one side flanked by guards while Brother Lussier and the captain took a seat.

"Start at the beginning. Tell me everything."

"Some months ago now Aramis arrived at the Abbey with another man."

"Romero?"

"Yes, though I knew them as Ancel and Renou. Aramis was badly wounded and left in my care while Romero sought work in the castle. I believe he found a job in the kitchens. In time Aramis recovered." Brother Lussier turned to point at Aramis. "This is a true man of God, he knows scripture as well as I do, and he was always eager to lend a hand with our work. Romero on the other hand... whenever I met his eyes I felt the gaze of the devil upon me. He was a malign influence. He smothered the light I saw in Aramis when they were together. But Aramis would not speak to me of what passed between them."

"Brother…" Aramis tried to warn him off, but a blow to his ribs stopped him in his tracks. He didn't want Brother Lussier revealing anything about Romero.

The monk hesitated at witnessing such violence, but Lecocq went on as if nothing had happened.

"And yet Aramis was found running from the powder shortly before it blew half the castle to hell. He was involved, he is guilty."

"He is not, if you listen you will learn." Brother Lussier huffed and continued. "Aramis also found work at the castle, and I did not see him for some time. But one night he came to me and confided in me. He said that Romero was going to do something terrible, and he did not have long. He came to me in desperation, wondering what to do."

Aramis frowned. None of that was true…

"I urged him to do what he could to stop this terrible thing from happening, and then we prayed together, to seek wisdom from God. When he departed he was determined to do what was right. I believe Aramis tried to prevent the explosion, but he arrived too late and had no choice but to flee. Have no doubt that Romero is the true criminal in all of this. Aramis is only guilty of making a poor choice in friendship."

Lecocq turned to Aramis. "What do you say to this?"

It wasn't true, he was guilty. Why was Brother Lussier lying?

"Aramis, your friend is guilty." Brother Lussier looked at him meaningfully.

His breath caught in his throat. He couldn't seem to speak.

"If this is true, why didn't you say anything?" Lecocq narrowed his eyes.

"Romero is my friend." The words were out of Aramis' mouth before he even knew he was saying them.

"See? The man has an unhealthy hold on him. He would no more turn Romero in than he would his own mother. But he is innocent."

"I cannot just let him go…" Lecocq's fists clenched on the table.

"Hanging him will not bring you justice. Locking him away will not bring you justice. You want justice don't you?"

"More than anything."

"If you hang an innocent man, what kind of justice is that?"

"He was involved somehow, I know it."

"You know nothing. You are just putting the pieces together to make the story you want to tell. I tell you, he is innocent. He would not knowingly harm a soul. I have never known a man as devout as Aramis."

"But to go so far as hanging, just to keep his friend safe?"

Aramis' voice quietly interrupted. "Greater love has no one but this: to lay down one's life for one's friends."

"And that, I can tell you, is from the Book of John." Brother Lussier smiled slightly. "Let him go. He has suffered enough."

"I can't…"

"You can. All you have to do is let go of the fiction, Captain." Brother Lussier leaned forwards across the table. "Let me put it another way. The people out there all heard me - a man of God - speak, they are full of doubts, and I will make the truth well known. If you hang him now, what will they think of you?"

Lecocq and Brother Lussier stared at each other for a long moment, a sort of unseen battle passed between them. Then Lecocq drew back.

"Very well. I will release him to you at the Abbey. I will want to speak to you both about Romero further."

"I will be happy to, and I am sure Aramis will welcome my hospitality once again."

Aramis gave a slight nod. He could hardly believe this was happening. One minute he was going to be hung, the next he was free. Well, free to go to the Abbey at any rate. Still, they were trusting the words and bonds of men of God. They were not quite as sturdy as chains.

Lecocq directed his attention to the guards. "Disperse the crowd. There will be no execution today. And let the others go. Brother, you can take him."

When the guards relinquished their grip on Aramis he wavered, but Brother Lussier was there to steady him.

"Come, let us make our way outside slowly."

"Thank you." Aramis rasped. "Thank you…"

~oOo~

The courtyard was empty, though the sun was just as blinding as before. Aramis trembled at seeing the scaffold standing ominously across the yard. Brother Lussier placed himself on the other side of Aramis to block it from view as best he could. They slowly made their way to the gate, guards stood to either side of it. Aramis half expected them to stop him from leaving. But they just watched with a silent sort of judgement. Guilty or innocent, guilty or innocent… What was he?

They left the castle behind and made their way towards the streets. Though they moved slowly, Aramis' mind was racing. The air was fresh, and he was held by no restraint. The world almost seemed too open, he felt vulnerable. There was too much space, too many eyes… He was shaking.

"Courage, Aramis, just a little further." Brother Lussier squeezed his arm.

Aramis closed his eyes and tried to calm his frantic breaths. When he had come back to himself somewhat there was only one person on his mind.

"Have you seen Romero? Do you know where he is?"

The monk suddenly tensed. "No."

"I need to find him, I need to-"

"He is gone, Aramis. He likely fled to the Spanish border long ago. Forget him."

"Aramis!" A shout came from behind accompanied by the sound of men running.

Aramis flinched at hearing it, fearing he was about to be set upon or taken back. But he was engulfed in Porthos arms a moment later.

"I thought you were… I thought…" Porthos drew back, though he kept his hands on Aramis' shoulders. "Are you all right?"

Aramis' eyes roved around, verging on panic. They set upon Athos, who was keeping a discreet distance, despite the fact it looked like it pained him to do so.

"I take it you are friends?" Brother Lussier asked.

"Yes, we served as musketeers together, he's like a brother to us." Porthos said with a broad smile, his eyes still glued to Aramis.

Aramis tried to pull away from the contact. He didn't want them. Now he was free he had to find Romero. He looked beyond Athos and Porthos, as if he could spot the man wandering the streets. But it just brought home to him that people were watching, and it was far too open… Aramis trembled slightly and pressed into Brother Lussier.

"Let us find somewhere a little more discreet and a little less overwhelming, hm?" Brother Lussier suggested.

The monk started guiding them down winding side streets until he seemed satisfied and came to a stop. His manner changed in an instant. A frantic edge took his voice. "Take him away from here with all haste. Get horses and ride away. It isn't safe, and you haven't much time."

"But he has wounds that need tending." Porthos frowned as he moved in to support Aramis.

Aramis flinched at the contact, but all attention was on on Brother Lussier now.

"And they can be tended away from here. Riding away will not kill him, staying here is far more dangerous. I do not trust Captain Lecocq, there are more subtle ways to kill a man than hanging. But he is not my main concern..."

"What do you mean?" Athos stepped forwards to speak at last.

"Please, just take him and go."

"What is it you're scared of?"

"I cannot say." The monk looked over his shoulder as if expecting eavesdroppers.

"We might be able to help if you would just explain."

Brother Lussier whipped back around. "I have already said too much. It is best if you just go."

"Athos." Porthos cut in. "We've got him back, now let's get out of this place, hm? Why don't you fetch some horses and meet us by the northern bridge?"

"If there's a danger-"

"Athos. We don't have to get involved. Can't we just walk away this once?"

He hesitated for a moment, and then gave a nod. "Very well."

Brother Lussier moved forwards to take hold of Aramis' hands. Aramis felt like the conversation had flowed all around and over him. He had hardly taken anything in. But now the monk seemed to demand his attention. Their eyes met, and Aramis listened intently.

"Do this one thing for me, my friend. Ride away and forget this place. Forget what happened here, forget him."

Aramis frowned. "Do you know where he is?"

"Listen, Aramis. He is gone. Forget him."

"But you would tell me, if you knew?"

Brother Lussier seemed to swallow heavily. "Yes… Now go." He released Aramis' hands and took a step back. "All of you, go."

"Thank you Brother. We are in your debt." Porthos uttered solemnly.

Athos nodded his agreement. "If you ever have need of us find the musketeers and ask for Porthos and Athos."

Brother Lussier smiled wamly. "Good luck to you. You will all be in my prayers."

With that they each took their leave.

~oOo~

"I've done as you asked. Now let them go."

"So I see."

"Please, you said you would let them go."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know, I only saw to his release."

"Why do I find that hard to believe? Come in and shut the door."

"Have some mercy."

"You've let me down…"

AN: Quote is by Arturo Pérez-Reverte.