I know, I know...it's been too long! With being on vacation, then last week catching up on all of the work that built up, plus events going on, I could not find much time to work on this chapter. I did get some of it done, then finished the rest today. I hope that it makes up for the long wait. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 12 – Going Home

Athos watched d'Artagnan with a critical and concerned eye. They were beginning their journey home to Paris today despite it being only four days since they had found their youngest at death's door. The three Inseparables thought it was too soon for their young Gascon friend, but he was insistent that they leave so they could see Amyot's sentence, whatever that may be, carried out. It seemed incredibly important to the young man and none of the musketeers could bring themselves to deny him, especially after his collapse in the doorway of the room where Aramis had worked on Amyot. Athos thought back on that day and shuddered at the memory.

Aramis cut four lengths of the bandages he had used and handed two to Athos. He was just finishing securing Amyot's wrist to the cot near his hip when he glanced up, his breath catching in his throat. At the sound, Athos looked up too and followed Aramis' gaze. Standing in the doorway, his arm wrapped around his middle and supported by an exasperated Porthos was d'Artagnan. His eyes were glued to the man on the cot and a look that neither Athos nor Aramis could recognize was on his pale face. Athos stood and faced the two men in the doorway.

"d'Artagnan?" he tentatively asked as he continued to watch the young man.

d'Artagnan finally looked up at his friend. "I…I just had to see," he said, his voice weak and shaky. He turned back to look at the man who had caused him so much pain and swallowed deeply, then before anyone could react, his knees gave out and he fell toward the floor. Athos rushed forward as Aramis came up off his chair, but it was Porthos who kept the Gascon from hitting the floor. By the time all three musketeers had their hands on the young man, he was out like a light.

Porthos lifted his friend with little effort and carried him back to the infirmary with Athos and Aramis trailing close behind, the fear for their youngest clearly written on all three musketeer's faces. Once Porthos had laid the unconscious Gascon back in his bed, Aramis had dropped to his side to check him over before letting out a relived breath.

"He is fine…just over extended himself by being on his feet too soon," Aramis said before glancing up at Porthos. "Why was he on his feet?" he asked with a sharpness to his tone that surprised not only Porthos, but Athos as well.

"I tried to keep him settled, but when he heard that Amyot was just down the hall, he fought to get up," Porthos explained. "I…"

"How did he know that Amyot was down the hall?" Athos queried as he made his way to d'Artagnan's bedside.

Porthos glanced at the swordsman and shrugged. "Etienne came in, asked where you two were. I told 'im what 'ad happened in the tunnel and what Amyot 'ad said. I didn't know the whelp was awake…'e 'eard it all," he answered.

"Dammit," Athos swore under his breath. "I never wanted d'Artagnan to know what Amyot had planned for him."

Porthos nodded as he glanced guiltily down at the Gascon. "Anyway, Etienne went white and left and when I turned around, d'Artagnan was tryin' to get outa bed. I tried to get 'im to lay back down, but 'e wasn't havin' any of it and I was afraid if I fought 'im, 'e would injure 'imself further. I couldn't very well punch 'im to keep 'im there and it seemed important to 'im to see the bastard, so I 'elped him up and, well, you know the rest," he explained.

Athos opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of d'Artagnan awakening. Three pairs of eyes watched as the Gascon's eyes fluttered open and looked owlishly up at his friends. "Wha' happened?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"What happened is, you decided to get out of bed when you had no business to," Athos snapped a bit more harshly than he had intended. He sighed when he saw the hurt in the young man's eyes and dropped to his knees beside the bed. "You scared us, d'Artagnan. We thought that maybe…"

"'m sorry, 'thos. I…I had to see…to make sure he…," d'Artagnan stammered, his body beginning to tremble, his eyes taking on a faraway look.

Athos took the young man's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. When d'Artagnan finally met his gaze, he smiled sadly. "He is not going to hurt you again, d'Artagnan. We will not let that happen. I know that we failed you before, but we are here now. Please trust us to keep you safe," he pleaded.

d'Artagnan's eyes welled as he listened to his mentor. "I do trust you," he whispered. "I trust all of you. I only hope that one day you will feel the same about me."

"We already do," Porthos said from where he stood at the end of the bed.

d'Artagnan smiled even as his eyelids began to droop. "Rest," Athos instructed. "Etienne and his men will be escorting Amyot back to Paris in the morning and we will follow once you are healed enough."

d'Artagnan shifted his gaze to his mentor and forced himself to stay awake. "I'll be fine to leave tomorrow," he said.

"You let me be the judge of that," Aramis said with a grin.

"Aramis is right," Athos said. "I know you want to be back in Paris, but you are in no shape right now to ride."

"I need to see him punished, Athos," d'Artagnan slurred as he stared wide-eyed up at the older man.

"And you will. I will pen a letter to Captain Treville asking him to implore Louis to wait for our return before he exacts his punishment."

"But what if he won't wait?"

Athos dropped his eyes and sighed. "I can't promise you that Louis will wait, but I can tell you that Treville can be quite persuasive when need be. He will do everything he can to convince the King, but if he does not succeed, you will have the knowledge that Amyot got what he deserved," he said.

"I need to see it, Athos."

"I will not sacrifice your health by letting you ride too early. I'm sorry, but I can't. What good would it do if you collapse on the trip home? We must put our trust in Treville to convince Louis to wait." Athos watched the emotions playing over the Gascon's features until finally the young man nodded and closed his eyes without another word. Athos glanced at Porthos and Aramis and shook his head.

"He'll be fine, Athos. He understands, he just wants to see with his own eyes that justice has been served," Aramis said.

"I know, and I want him to see it, but I won't risk his health…I won't," Athos replied.

Silence took over as the three musketeers watched their youngest sleep. Finally, Athos stood and headed for the door.

"Where ya goin'?" Porthos asked.

Athos turned and smiled tiredly. "I have a letter to write," he said.

Athos shook himself from his thoughts when Porthos called out to him that they were ready to leave. d'Artagnan watched him from atop his horse and though he looked much better than he had before, Athos could still see the lines of pain around his eyes. The Gascon sat taller in his saddle as he saw the scrutiny he was under. He lifted his chin defiantly to prove that he was fine to travel. Athos shook his head and gave the slightest of grins to his young friend.

"Stubborn whelp," Athos said under his breath as he mounted his horse and moved in position beside Jean at the front of the group. Aramis and Porthos flanked d'Artagnan behind Athos and Jean and once all were ready, they began their trip home.

They rode for most of the day, stopping once along the way to eat lunch and rest. Athos had wanted to stop sooner, but d'Artagnan had stubbornly refused, even though it was quite obvious to his companions that he was exhausted. Once they had stopped and their lunch had been consumed and the horses fed and watered, d'Artagnan had found it impossible to stay awake, no matter how hard he tried. He nearly toppled off the rock he had sat upon, but Porthos had been near enough to gently guide him to the soft forest floor. They allowed the Gascon an hour to sleep before waking him when it was time to move on. He had been embarrassed that he had fallen asleep, but his friends assertions that they had needed the rest as well helped eased his mind. Now, as the sky began to darken, Athos stopped and looked back at the three men behind him. Aramis had one hand on d'Artagnan's arm to keep the sagging young man steady and that was all it took for Athos to proclaim that they had done enough riding for the day.

"'m fine," d'Artagnan murmured sleepily, much to the amusement of his traveling companions.

Porthos rode ahead and whistled when he found a good spot for them to stop for the night. Athos nodded and led the rest of the group off the road to where Porthos had already dismounted his horse. Athos, Aramis and Jean dismounted as well then Athos moved to help guide d'Artagnan off his horse.

"I'll gather firewood," d'Artagnan said as he half staggered toward the treeline.

Aramis grabbed the young man and turned him to where Porthos was preparing d'Artagnan's bedroll that he had retrieved from the Gascon's saddlebags. "No, d'Artagnan, you will rest while we set up camp," he said as he helped ease the young man down on the blankets.

"I can help," d'Artagnan argued. He tried to push himself back up, but the day of riding had taken a toll and he found that he lacked the strength to do much of anything. Aramis smiled warmly at this friend and helped him to lay down.

"You sleep. I'll wake you when supper is ready," Aramis instructed as he pulled the blanket over the Gascon.

"Not a baby…stop treatin' me like one," d'Artagnan murmured even as his eyes closed. He was asleep almost the second his head hit the ground.

"No, you are definitely not a baby," Aramis whispered proudly as he stood and began preparations for their meal.

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Captain Treville stood before King Louis, his hat in his hands as he awaited the young king's decision. Cardinal Richelieu stood by the king's side, his face a stony wall of indifference. Finally, Louis looked up at the captain of the musketeers and let out a bored breath. "Captain Treville, I have read the musketeer Athos' letter and listened to your request, but I see no reason to delay this Amyot's execution just so a musketeer recruit can witness it firsthand. Is not the knowledge that the man is dead enough?"

"Your majesty, this recruit suffered greatly at the hand of the prisoner in regard to the letter that was sent and gave nothing away, just as any of my commissioned musketeers would be expected to do. I feel he has earned the pleasure of seeing his tormentor punished," Captain Treville explained, the man ignoring the derisive snort from Richelieu.

King Louis waved his hand as if shooing away a fly and met the captain's gaze. "This is highly irregular, Treville. Why should we keep this man alive any longer? He conspired against the throne and France herself. He should be punished immediately," he said airily.

"If it pleases his majesty, would it not provide a bigger show of what will happen to those who dare defy the throne if Amyot and his co-conspirators, who are only now being rounded up, are executed together in a more public setting?" Treville queried. "It will take several days to find all of the conspirators and then a such a time deemed appropriate by you, all of the men will join the spy Bertrand in death."

Richelieu rolled his eyes, but Treville ignored him as he watched the king mull over his new suggestion. He didn't have long to wait. "Captain Treville, your suggestion of a public execution of all of the conspirators, save the spy, is an interesting one," Louis began, only to be interrupted by Richelieu.

"Your majesty, an immediate execution would be the proper thing to do. It is how it has always been done," the cardinal said.

King Louis let out a huff of irritation and turned to the cardinal. "Cardinal, is it customary to interrupt his majesty when he is speaking?"

"No, your majesty, and I apologize. I was merely…"

"Silence! I will continue without any further interruption! Is that clear?"

Richelieu bowed slightly to the king then glared angrily at Treville. "Of course…please accept my humblest of apologies. I meant no disrespect."

"Fine, fine. Now, where was I?" King Louis questioned. "Oh yes…the public execution of Amyot and his co-conspirators. I think this is a wonderful idea. If there are others out there who are in the mind that they can conspire against the throne and France, this will surely be a good way to thwart those thoughts immediately. How soon do you expect all of the conspirators to be brought to Paris, Treville?"

"I would think that they should all be rounded up by weeks end, your majesty," Treville answered.

Louis nodded as he leaned back in his seat. "And when will the other musketeers return to Paris, along with your brave recruit...what is his name by the way?"

"His name is d'Artagnan, your majesty, and I would think that they should be here very soon after all of the conspirators are imprisoned in the Chatelet," Treville replied.

"Very well, " Louis said. "If your musketeers have not returned by the time all of the conspirators have been detained, I will give them two days after to appear. If at that time they have not returned to Paris, the enemies of the throne will be executed in the square for all to see."

Treville bowed before the king, a smile curling his lips at his victory. When he stood straight again, the smile was gone. "Thank you, your majesty. Your foresight is commendable," he said.

"Yes, well, that is why I am the King," Louis said. "Now, all of this nonsense has left me tired. I will retire to my rooms for the rest of the morning," he added as he rose from his ornate chair.

Treville bowed once more as he watched the king and his attendants leave the great hall. Once the king was gone, Richelieu sneered at the captain of the musketeers and made his way to stand before the shorter man.

"So, Treville, once again you think your musketeers, and now recruits, hold more importance than they should. Why should the execution of a traitor such as Amyot be held up just so your recruit d'Artagnan can see him executed? It's highly irregular," the cardinal asked contemptuously.

Treville squared his shoulders and glared up at the cardinal. "Tell me, Richelieu…why did you specifically ask for my three best musketeers, not to mention my recruit, to carry out this mission? That is what is highly irregular here," he hissed. "It is no secret that you hold a particular dislike of my best men, but d'Artagnan? What is it about the young man who brought Vadim down that you don't like? He could hardly have done anything to have brought your disdain upon him."

Richelieu acted shocked by the accusation, but Treville wasn't buying it. "Captain Treville, I do not know what you are talking about. I merely asked for the best musketeers and knowing that you hold the Inseparables in the highest of regard, I knew that they were the men for the job. I asked for your recruit to be included because after Vadim, I saw that he too may some day make a musketeer to rival your three best. I thought the experience would help him in his endeavor to earn his commission," the Cardinal explained, the word Inseparables leaving his tongue as if it were a curse.

It took all of Treville's strength to not roll his eyes as he listened to the obvious lies falling from the Cardinal's mouth. "Yes, well, whatever your feelings about my men, you cannot deny that they performed their duties admirably, especially d'Artagnan. Louis saw this and chose to reward the young man accordingly."

Richelieu huffed at Treville's words, but did not speak. He turned and walked away, disappearing through a door at the east end of the hall. Treville smirked as he too turned and made his way through the palace, intent on reaching the garrison where he could disappear into his office and partake of a very much needed drink, or two. He prayed that his men would return in time to see justice done and that his newest recruit would come through his experience a stronger man. His thoughts went to what he had learned about the letter he had sent his men off to deliver. A decoy to draw out a spy that he had only just heard of. Did his men think that he knew that the letter was nothing but blank parchment? Would they believe him when he told them such? And most importantly of all, would they forgive him for putting d'Artagnan into a situation that had led to his capture and torture? Could he forgive himself?

So, it was Richelieu's idea to send the Inseparables and d'Artagnan. He really doesn't like those guys, huh? Bad man...very bad man. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, though there wasn't a whole lot of our four musketeers. I promise there will be more of them in the next chapter. Not too much longer to go before the end. Take care!

Cindy