Athos sat with his back to the underside of the saddle with the blanket draped over his shoulders and watched the small fire blaze. He could feel his muscles relaxing beneath the warmth of the blanket and the heat of the flames. The tip of his nose was still cold. The soup had been filling and the hen, for all her efforts of escape and defiance, had turned out to be quite tasty. Athos looked up and spotted the goose hiding beneath the roost of the henhouse, too large to fit through the door. It stared back at him through the gaps in the stairs.
He thought about the journey ahead, the weather, the conditions of the narrow path, and the distance to the chateau. If they could depart early enough, he hoped they would arrive by dark or soon after. He rubbed his face, felt exhaustion nipping at his heels, and then looked toward the small house and heard the women laughing. He couldn't help but smile. There was something about that sound, the joy of women and their giggles and laughter that forced him to settle his soul no matter how discouraged he was.
His drive to get Anne to the chateau weighed heavily on his shoulders. She and her child were his responsibility. It was his duty to insure their safety, to get them home to the king. He looked toward the moon that was hidden by clouds and listened as the leaves on the trees rustled and continued to fall to the ground. Autumn's winds were chilly and indicated that winter would not be merciful. Athos pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, glanced at the weapons belt, and then at the little mare. She licked her lips after drinking from the water bucket and cocked her hind hoof to rest. It was a simple, but familiar gesture. Even she was tired.
The light of a lantern flickered and went out, and only a dim light was visable through the gap at the top and bottom of the door. Athos exhaled slowly and relaxed. He looked toward the moon and watched more clouds slowly pass by, and occasionally a star would appear through the gaps in the clouds.
One more day… they could survive one more day.
Athos closed his eyes, felt his shoulders relax, and despite his efforts to stay awake, to stand guard, his body simply succumbed to its exhaustion. He didn't know how long he had slept, but the chill of the night had crept in and forced him to pull the blanket tighter around his shoulders, pull his knees toward himself, and huddle against the cold.
It was the loud honk of the goose that had Athos jumping to his feet, tossing the blanket from his shoulders and looking toward the beast. The big bird awkwardly fluttered its long wings and waddled back toward the henhouse and stood behind the slotted steps and once again peered at him. One-by-one, the chickens and ducks hopped down and went looking for grubs and worms. The darkness of night had faded and the early hint of morning was making an appearance.
Athos wiped his face with the flat of his hand, rubbed his tired, bloodshot eyes, and then took a deep breath as he grabbed the blanket and folded it. With a deep breath, he buckled the weapons belt. Though warm to the touch, the fire still smoked, and it filtered upward as a few coals glowed red beneath the ash. The little mare was once again grazing. With sore muscles, bruised ribs, and a slightly swollen ankle, Athos grabbed the saddle and pad and readied the mare. He dumped water on the remains of the fire and looked up as Anne stepped from the door of the home. She looked refreshed, despite the dirtiness of her dress. Amelia had done a fine job stitching the tears. Anne's hair had been braided and wrapped at the back of her head, and her cloak was draped over her shoulders. She still looked tired, but slightly refreshed.
Amelia followed her and walked toward Athos with a cotton bag. "Some bread and boiled eggs — you're going to need your strength," she said with a shrug. "I wish I had more to give you."
Athos quirked a smile and said, "Thank you, Madame."
"She's weak," Amelia said in a soft tone. "I wish there was a place for you both to rest for the next leg of your journey, but sadly," she winced, "there isn't. Make sure she eats and keep her warm."
Athos looked toward Anne and nodded.
"I would suggest you both stay and rest another day, but she is not willing to do so, and given she is the queen — I doubt either of us could change her mind."
"Is it safe for her to travel?" Athos asked, and reached into the small pocket of his doublet and removed a coin. "For the chicken."
Amelia curled her lips into a subtle smile. She took the coin and then rubbed her arms as the chill of the early morning air bit at her skin, and pointed toward the clouds in the distance as the red sun hinted at the horizon. "Just get her where you need to go before that hits." She stepped back and watched Anne adjust the cloak around her shoulders and approach Athos, who bowed and then gently took her hand.
"Thank you for your kindness," Anne said with a smile and looked Amelia in the eyes.
Amelia smiled, curtsied, and then stepped back as Athos assisted Anne as she mounted. The mare snorted, shifted her stance, and then walked forward after Athos said goodbye. Amelia stood with her arms wrapped around her, clutching the hand-woven cloak that covered her shoulders to keep out the chill, and watched them walk away. It would be a long walk to the chateau. Nearly a league over rough terrain with a storm headed their way. She took a deep breath and looked toward her chickens and the woodpile and noticed that Athos had cut several pieces to replace those he had burned the night before.
Whoever the queen could not speak of, the man she loved but could not acknowledge, Amelia hoped he was kind, generous, tender and loving. She also hoped that the women in the lives of those musketeers, the men the queen spoke so highly of, were as honorable as those that served them.