Title: Behold New Things
Disclaimer: This is an AU of the thought that d'Artagnan went home with his father's body and this set a new course for Gascony. But, Musketeers BBC version is not mine.
Notes: Thank you so much for those who have liked my Musketeer stories, chose them as favorites and reviewed.
"Athos."
D'Artagnan looked to the back of the wagon, his father's body wrapped in oiled leather. The young man's eyes burned with the tears that would not fall; instead they were locked in his throat as he thought about his father's last word.
As much as he wanted to get justice for his father, d'Artagnan's duty was to return to Lupiac, mourn his father, and inform the others of the mission's failure.
His father had been a leader, a voice of reason against a mounting rebellion in Gascony. Too many people had to make choices- go hungry or pay taxes. Alexandre had volunteered to speak to the King, convince Louis his people were suffering.
Building in d'Artagnan's heart was the realization the Gascons would find another way, one his father would not have approved.
(())
"Why not send the Red Guards?" Athos asked as he heard Treville's orders to head to Gascony with Aramis and Porthos.
The Captain narrowed his eyes, wrinkles showing a little deeper. "The Cardinal wants to start a war to bring the Gascons in line."
Porthos glanced at Athos and Aramis. "A civil war? Why?"
Battles and fighting the Huguenots within France's borders was bad enough, another civil war would be brutal. It would leave the country weak for Spain or Austria to invade.
"He wants his taxes. But, I was able to convince the King to allow the Musketeers to be emissaries." Treville rubbed his stubble with the back of his hand.
"It would not have anything to do with your background?" Aramis teased as it was known the Captain was from Gascony and held an estate there. It was little used, as the Captain's time off was rare.
Treville ignored any conversation about his past. "The King wants to know why the taxes have decreased and what the Duke has to say on the matter."
"We leave in the morning?" Porthos confirmed.
"Yes."
(())
The ride to Gascony was long and uneventful, which led to tension once they entered the borders of the region. The trio did not know what to expect as the Cardinal could have exaggerated a situation where taxes were involved, but the grotesque man hanging in a tree, bloated and blue from days had them vigilant.
"Eh, I thought they're farmers in these parts?" Porthos's horse shied away.
Athos cocked his head and looked into the sunlight. "Perhaps not."
"Do we make way for an inn or make camp?" Aramis turned so he did not have to see the hanging man.
As dusk neared they made camp amongst some French oaks lumbering some shade in the spring night. Deciding quickly the guarding shifts with Aramis first, then Athos to end with Porthos.
As usual, Aramis set out to clean one musket, leaving one available. Stretching his legs to walk the perimeter, he stopped, believing he saw movement. "Attack!" Aramis yelled out to wake his friends, they started, but it was too late for the Musketeers to counter as they were surrounded.
A tall figure stepped forward with a musket in one hand and a sword in the other. "Please, put down your weapons."
Athos did not surrender, his sword held steady, keeping the attackers at bay. "We are Musketeers, the King's men; an attack against us is an attack against the King."
"We have no plans to hurt you." The tall figure moved his head. It made Aramis notice his youthfulness.
Porthos snorted, lunged forward, which caused the aggressors to back up a step, then crowd in once more. They were too many of them. "Prisoners? Soldiers don't make good hostages, lad."
"Or do you mean to cut off our heads?" Aramis was pinned against a tree, but he still remembered the bloated figure hanging by a rope.
The young man stood straighter, more menacing as the Musketeers grumbled. "The Cardinal sent LaBarge to force us to pay our taxes."
"As citizens of France taxes are an obligation." Athos, as always, remained calm. His sword caught the moonlight until he lowered it slightly.
"So citizens should expect their homes to be burned and women to be raped when they don't have enough money to pay?" It was a voice from behind the sharpshooter that answered this time.
Aramis turned his head. "No." The medic swallowed. The Cardinal was despicable and not for the first time the sharpshooter wondered when God would catch up to the First Minister to smite him.
The same man seemed satisfied that the Musketeers had reached a new understanding. "Are you here to see the Duke?"
"Is he well?" Athos asked, lowering his sword.
"Yes." The young man nodded, gestured for the weapon to be handed to him.
Athos acquiesced and the others followed suit. Their hands were tied, but they were not handled roughly as they were mounted on their horses.
"We will take you to him." Each horse was led by the attackers. They would go for now to see the Duke and try discover more about their Gascon captors.
(())
D'Artagnan was leading the group back to the Duke's home where they had all taken refuge. A council had been created to govern the area. Favre, one of the three members was waiting for them at the late hour. He was always one to worry when patrols were sent out. "We found them in the woods." D'Artagnan gestured to the three Musketeers who had been brought into the entry.
Favre crossed his arms over his worn vest. "Musketeers? Is the King preparing to attack us?"
"We came to check on the Duke." The one who they had come upon first spoke, though d'Artagnan figured he was not the leader.
Favre nodded. "Follow me and someone will be sent to wake the Duke."
They headed to the great room where the tapestries still hung, but tables had been brought in to cover the floor where balls had taken place. Favre gestured for the Musketeers to sit down, while d'Artagnan and his men remained standing.
The Duke of Gascony came in moments later. Although disheveled; he had taken the time to put on breeches, boots and a doublet.
"His Majesty sends his regards. I am Athos. This is Aramis and Porthos." The Musketeer stood, bowed his head in greeting.
The name reverberated in d'Aragnan's mind. He lifted his sword, once belonging to his father and strode to the leader of the Musketeer trio, pointing the blade at his chest. "Athos?"
The other men circled around d'Artagnan, but Favre placed his hand on the blade. "Whoa, calm. Sword away, d'Artagnan. That's enough."
Yet, the young man was unwilling to follow the order. "You're name is Athos?"
Athos remained still. "Yes."
D'Artagnan felt the weight of his father's death once more along with the intensity of all eyes on him. "You killed my father, Alexandre d'Artagnan. Your name was his last word."
The Musketeer did not waver, either not fearing death or welcoming it. "We don't take names when we are forced to do our duty."
"Duty? He was farmer on his way to speak to the King." The young man's rapier remained on the breast of the Musketeer about to pierce the cloth.
"When was this?" The one identified as Aramis drew attention. D'Artagnan answered; the third month anniversary had just passed.
"It was not him." Porthos stepped forward, brushing off those who would restrain him. "We were in Orleans."
"Treville, our Captain can vouch for us. He's from here," Aramis added.
"Jean Armand Treville?" Favre asked and Porthos nodded in response.
"Musketeers are honorable. They are speaking the truth," the Duke said nervously. "Favre, please."
"D'Artagnan, that's enough. There is something more that is going on here." Favre gripped the young man's hand. They believed the Musketeers. It was confusing-why would Musketeers be thieves? Why did Athos give his name? More than ever, d'Artagnan wished his father was still alive providing clarity.
Pulling away from the grip, d'Artagnan stormed out of the room to think about his father, revenge and the truth.
(())
After the eventful meeting they were given a room to rest. Finally alone, Porthos lay on the cot, hands behind his head. "Now what?"
"The Duke's safe. Should he be escorted to Paris?" Aramis answered, sitting at the edge of another bed.
Athos walked around the room, attempting to settle. Porthos had seen this before of his friend especially when denied access to wine. "I do not believe they will allow the Duke to leave."
"He's a well-tended hostage," Porthos commented. Prisoners were not allowed to sleep in their room, allowed their comforts and fed properly.
Athos gave the resting Musketeer a nod. "We will find out more tomorrow."
Porthos sat up just as Athos froze and Aramis stood up. The lock was being turned, the door unbarred to allow d'Artagnan, the young man who had accused Athos of killing his father, to enter.
"Why would someone use your name?" The Gascon asked without preamble.
Athos acknowledged the young man with a tilt of a head. "I have no idea, but I plan to find out."
"It is worrisome. We do not know how far this has gone. If there have been other killings in Athos's name." Aramis patted Athos on the shoulder.
"Glad you believe us, lad." Porthos thought it showed honor. Although they were investigating for the King, they could still form their own opinions. For so many Gascons to stand up and fight, then there had to be something wrong.
D'Artagnan crossed his arms. "I don't know what to believe." He hadn't stepped too far into the room. "Once this is done, then I will have my revenge."
"When will that be?" Aramis asked with a lifted brow towards Porthos in amusement.
The young man stood straighter, belief in his cause evident. "When the King decides to hear us. We bleed to pay our taxes. We rather bleed to fight for our land, our people."
Porthos glanced at his friends. The King was not one to react well to threats or demands, not knowing how to handle them.
"What of the Duke?"
D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders at Athos. "He supports us, especially after LaBarge was sent."
"If you don't get your hearing?" Porthos could see that happening. The Cardinal would handle the matter with unequivocal violence as he had done with the Huguenots.
"Then we side with Spain." D'Artagnan went towards the door giving it a knock. "Favre will discuss this with you in the morning."
The boy left leaving them in the room staring at each other. "Thought this would be a ride in the country. Never knew farmers could be so dangerous," Porthos said. These men were driven like the Musketeers were in their duty. "This isn't going to be pretty."
(())
Athos did not know how it came about that d'Artagnan was joining them in their ride to Paris. The Duke and Favre insisted as well as the council. They had a plan, in agreement with the Duke, who was participating in this rebellion, trying to keep it peaceful. The Gascons wished to remain French citizens, but not with unbearable taxes. Spain had offered protection, it was near and a part of Gascon dialect.
"You do have a trusting spirit." Aramis broke through Athos's reverie as they road.
D'Artagnan rode beside Porthos. The boy had accepted the council's choice quietly, which Athos believed bellied the fervor inside. "I would not say that."
"You are riding back to Paris with us," Athos pointed out.
Porthos gave the young man a sidelong glance. "The King may want you dead."
"Will you avenge my father; find who is using your name?" D'Artagnan was directing this to Athos. He nodded in agreement, unable to bear someone killing in his name, bringing dishonor to the Musketeers.
"Good. I could say you have a trusting spirit. I could kill you in the night." The Gascon smiled at Porthos.
The large man laughed. "You don't seem the type."
"We will try to prevent your imprisonment." Athos was worried. The King could be brash, urged by the Cardinal in the importance of taxes and consolidated power of the throne. The only hope was the temperance of the Queen or the willingness of Louis to listen.
D'Artagnan seemed willing to be the sacrifice. As Athos understood it, the young man and his father had been entrusted to speak with the King. Having failed with a steep personal loss to d'Artagnan, he was seeking justice, believed it still existed. "As long as our terms are heard. If not, then Gascony becomes part of Spain."
"You are all willing to do this?" Athos was surprised by this decision of the council, and wondered how they would enforce it.
The young man nodded in affirmation.
"Stubborn Gascons," Athos muttered under his breath.
"What if you succeed and there's peace?" Aramis asked, coming astride having listened in on the conversation.
D'Artagnan gripped his reins enough that his gloves squeaked. "Avenge my father and if I survive then return to the farm."
"If you survive?" Porthos groused. They were now riding four across, but Athos slowed them to a walk.
The newcomer squared his shoulders, then hardened his face as if he had been offended. "I'm willing to die."
"That won't happen," Athos dismissed the sentiment as the passion of youth.
D'Artagnan flinched as if there had been a physical blow. "No matter, I failed my father and Gascony."
Athos could feel Aramis and Porthos's glare on him, but he was not about to break the silence. It was not in his ability to change the boy's purpose. His job was to defend King and country, which at this point meant to deliver d'Artagnan to Louis then clear his name. The nobleman could not allow someone to continue to besmirch his name, murder innocents.
It was difficult, but they asked d'Artagnan to return to the inn where his father had been murdered. Athos stepped forward to speak to the innkeeper, who informed them the bodies had been burned. The clothing and belongings, however, were in storage in the barn.
"These are Musketeer uniforms," Aramis said as he lifted them.
"There are a few holes in that." Porthos put his fingers through the doublet.
Athos frowned. "How many times did you shoot?"
"Just the once." D'Artagan swallowed. "What does this mean?"
Aramis licked his lips. "Cornet and the others…"
"Bastards," Porthos growled as he folded up the doublet, then stuffed it in the leather sack.
"There are some missing Musketeers. We worry they have fallen." Athos looked off into the distance wondering where their bodies lay and who was behind the attack.
"We were right to worry." Aramis shivered, then pulled himself back.
Athos started to pack up the uniforms. "We'll talk to Treville." This news was unexpected as was the direction of the investigation. Athos did not know what they were proving.
In Paris, before stopping at the palace, the inseparables brought d'Artagnan to meet Treville.
The Captain was on the deck outside his office, then gestured for them to follow him inside where he leaned against his desk. Athos explained the situation succinctly while Aramis and Porthos remained in the corner, pushing d'Artagnan forward at the right time in the story.
The boy bowed his head. "Monsieur Favre said you were to be implicitly trusted, Captain."
"You're Alexandre's son?" Treville eyed the young man.
D'Artagnan nodded before finding his voice once more. "Yes, I was. He's recently passed."
"There's more to it," Porthos added, which caused the Captain to wave his hand prompting Porthos to continue on until he concluded with, "Athos's name is involved."
Treville rubbed his chin, pushing off from the desk to move behind it. "I've heard rumors. There is some plan against you."
"It involves the others. We found their uniforms." Athos was growing uneasy. "We promised d'Artagnan safe passage to speak to the King about Gascony."
Treville nodded and led the way out of his office. "We will do our best."
(())
D'Artagnan did not know where to rest his eyes as they made their way through the palace to the throne room. The structure itself was larger and more gleaming than anything he had ever seen. He felt very much the son of a farmer as he followed the Musketeers, keeping up their hurried pace.
Treville announced him and his purpose before ceding the floor to the young man. The King looked bored with the Queen paying him some attention, but it was the Cardinal in his red robe attempting to burn a hole in him with his eyes.
Told to speak from the heart to present their case, d'Artagan started to explain how his neighbors did not have enough to eat. Immediately, he was interrupted by Richelieu.
"They killed the tax collector!"
As much as the young man wanted to control his temper, he thought of Marie and what she had suffered. "Labarge burned down our homes and raped a girl after killing her family. He got the justice he deserved by my hand."
The Cardinal pointed to the younger man. "He admits it! He should be tried for treason. Arrest him."
The Red Guards moved in doing as the Cardinal asked until Athos pulled him away while Treville defended the Gascon.
"Your Majesty, in your name the Musketeers guaranteed his safety."
The King tried to be effective mediator, but tended to side more often with the First Minister. "He will be safe, Captain in the chatelet." Louis moved his fingers. "The tax collectors are also protected by the crown."
D'Artagnan, in his wisdom, did not fight back as he was led out of the throne room. He was dejected. All avenues had failed and Gascony would join Spain for protection. He would die and be with his father in eternal rest.
(())
D'Artagnan was wallowing. The reality of the situation of being locked in the chatelet meant the window was too high, the room too small and his fellow prisoners reeked. Pacing led to him to climbing the grate that held him until he was yelled by the guards. Once they returned to ignoring him, he would climb again; afraid stillness would bring about his death that much earlier.
Night fell as the young man huddled in a corner, his eyes on the other men as if they would attack him. In a twilight sleep, he started when a hand came through the grate to cover his mouth.
"Time to leave," Aramis whispered, waiting until d'Artagnan acknowledged him before dropping his hand.
Porthos was waiting by the door. Quietly the Gascon stepped to freedom and was led by the Musketeers through a side passage. There was Athos, holding the horses steady.
"We are to Gascony. The Cardinal has sent the Captain of the Red Guard to bring Gascony to heel." Athos mounted as did the others.
They made their way through the gates with d'Artagnan in the middle of the group. Riding hard, there was no time to talk until they had to give the horses some time to rest.
"What has happened?" D'Artagnan asked as they walked their horses in the moonlight.
Athos passed a water skin to the young man. "Gaudet has been impersonating me, his other men as Musketeers."
"They mean to bring Gascony to heel. Don't they?" D'Artagnan thought he would be ill. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Porthos patted him on the back. "Lad, he's not that far ahead of us. We can stop them."
"There are only four of us." D'Artagnan patted his horse before he mounted once more. He needed to be with his people.
Aramis also mounted. "The others are coming. Treville always finds a reason." The sharpshooter bowed his head towards Athos. "A little faith may be warranted."
As they rode, trying to make up time, but keeping the horses on the edge of exhaustion, d'Artagnan thought of where the attack would happen. The Duke was on their side, which put the manor house at risk. Yet, although they were farmers, his friends and neighbors had prepared to do battle, wishing it would never come to pass.
(())
Porthos scouted ahead as they knew they had made up some time to take the Red Guards unaware. Watching as he laid on the ground hidden by shrubbery he could see Gaudet and his accompaniment in their Musketeer uniforms.
It seemed there had been no attack as of yet. Silently, he backed away as he tried to overhear their conversation with limited success to return back to where his friends were waiting. "They haven't gone after the manor."
"I can still warn them." The young Gascon stood up from the grassy camp to get to his horse.
"Wait. We need their help." Athos stopped the lad and explained what he wanted d'Artagnan to do.
Porthos glanced at Aramis who grinned. It was a good plan, one that would exonerate Athos and the Musketeers. "They need to stay alive." The taller man decided to remind d'Artagnan before he headed out.
Although Athos was humble, he was an amazing strategist, book learned that mirrored the way Porthos understood the ways of the streets of Paris. The three of them surrounded the Red Guards lying in wait for the dawn.
When the fighting started, it was thick although they had the advantage of surprise, which evened the numbers as it was four to one. The goal of keeping the false Musketeers alive was the issue until the Gacons joined the fight with d'Artagnan leading the way dismounting before his horse stopped.
"Gaudet!" D'Artagnan hacked away, forgetting Athos's edict, luckily the other Gascons were taking care.
The Captain of the Red Guards turned as his name was uttered just as the field of combatants was thinning. Porthos had already restrained two Red Guards, while Aramis had done the same. Athos had one guardsman at his feet while fighting another one as Gaudet pulled away to meet d'Artagnan.
It was not a fluid fight as Porthos was accustomed to seeing from Aramis or Athos, but the sword work showed some mastery and significant potential.
"You killed my father."
"Really. He did not leave an impression." Gaudet spat.
That taunt was sufficient to give d'Artagnan the edge.
"We need him alive!" Athos yelled too late as Porthos witnessed the death strike.
Panting hard, d'Artagnan wiped his eyes. His friends gave him space, but he squared his shoulders as he walked to Athos. "I am sorry," he said between breaths.
Athos reached out and squeezed the young man's shoulder.
"We have enough of them alive and I'm sure they'll cooperate." Porthos growled to ease the young man's worry.
(())
Athos had to convince the Gascons and d'Artagnan to take the risk to go to Paris with the false Musketeers.
Treville stood with his men and four Gascons explaining what had happened to the King and Queen.
"Renegade Red Guards? Cardinal, this is most unexpected." Louis waited for his First Minister to make a retort, but the man held firm to his silence with a frown.
The Musketeer Captain took it as an opportunity to continue, "d'Artagnan was instrumental in bringing down Gaudet and his men."
Athos pushed the boy forward, placing a hand on the small of his back to be reassuring. D'Artagnan fidgeted nervously a moment before stilling again.
The King sighed. "I am disappointed, Cardinal. Gascony has suffered and so they are to receive a special dispensation from the treasury to lower the taxes." Louis gestured for the Cardinal to come closer. "I cannot have my people suffering."
"A wise decision of a benevolent King," the Cardinal agreed.
Athos gave a pointed look to Treville. "And d'Artagnan? You had sent him to the chatelet, Sire even though he has only showed loyalty to France."
Louis glanced at the young Gascon at Athos's words. "Set him free, Captain. I believe this matter is settled."
"Thank you, Sire," d'Artagnan answered with a smile that his fellow Gascons also had on their faces.
They left the palace, using the garrison as the place for them to part. Porthos and Aramis were speaking to the other Gascons while Athos stood next to d'Artagnan whose eyes kept darting around the practice yard.
"You are returning to Lupiac," Athos said. Porthos and Aramis had voiced their opinion to him that the boy would be a good recruit. They were willing to provide sponsorship.
D'Artagnan brought his attention back to the older man. "Yes, I would like to honor my father's wishes and continue at the farm." His hand rested on his sword in a soldier like stance.
"Your father sounds like a good man. Is there any chance he would want a different life for you?" Aramis and Porthos had broken away, listening in on the conversation while Treville kept the guests entertained.
Porthos clapped the boy's back. "Like a Musketeer life?"
D'Artagnan blinked as if removing the confusion. "I never thought about it."
Athos gave the boy a head nod. "You should. You would still honor your father if you pursued another career."
The Gascon nodded and went to join his friends who were making on leaving as Jacques had their mounts ready for them. D'Artagnan patted his horse, then turned away, striding back towards the inseparables.
"I will return. I need to put the farm in order, but I will return to Paris."
Athos shook the boy's out stretched hands as Aramis clapped his arm and Porthos squeezed his other arm. Soon the three would become four.
The end