Thank you again everyone for the kind responses! Again, this is a long one, my longest so far, but here we go with another chapter...

Chapter 13

Autun bustled with activity. Aramis looked at d'Artagnan, who smiled as people walked the dirt road carrying goods on their backs, on their heads, and within carts pulled by goats, horses, and oxen. Merchants with temporary carts and stands lined the road, but out of the way of the established businesses that had customers clamoring for attention. A donkey brayed, followed by the barking of a dog. Kettles clamored and rang while hanging from the awning of a merchant's cart as a patron searched for the perfect one. A chicken squawked and fluttered its wings when grabbed and shoved into a sack and then tossed into the back of a wagon. Whether for dinner or eggs, the bird was in for a long ride.

Aramis looked at a cart with unusual items where several people gathered and bartered over items that were unseen to him. He caught sight of a young woman standing next to a man with a white covering over his head, olive skin, and a long beard that hung nearly to his waist. His attire was unusual, a white tunic that hung to his knees, tied at the sides, and a thick orange cloth secured at his waist and hung along his right leg. The woman, Aramis assumed, was translating. She spoke to her customers, the man beside her, and monies and goods were quickly and efficiently exchanged. She was unlike anyone he had ever seen before. Large brown eyes surrounded with vividly black lashes; olive skin that looked gold when the sun caught her features. She was simply dressed in a vibrantly colored and embroidered dress that cinched at her waist and held her snugly at her breasts and arms.

"Aramis," d'Artagnan said.

Aramis turned, looked at d'Artagnan, and then turned back toward the exotic beauty. "She's stunning."

D'Artagnan craned his neck, tried to look past Aramis, and frowned. "The cow?"

Aramis suddenly turned toward d'Artagnan and, pulling his brows together, asked, "What cow? I was looking at the raving beauty selling goods behind her cart."

D'Artagnan chanced another look and then gave up. "I only see a cow being fought over by two farmers," he pointed to the fawn and white colored milking cow. She chewed her cud, lazily flicked her ears, and swished her tail as two men, one on either side of her, bartered and argued over the cost.

"Farmers," Aramis muttered, and rolled his eyes. He turned, glanced once more toward the woman, and then followed d'Artagnan.

The White Willow Inn stood at the end of the long road and across from the stables. It had been a chateau before the lands had been overtaken by warring nobility. The inhabitants had finally surrendered their home, their lands, and their titles at the request of the king. Over the years, the chateau had changed hands and was finally abandoned. That was until Monsieur Sabot purchased it with his wife and ten children. Together, they renovated it and built a thriving community around it.

Ivy grew around the windows, along the front entry, and framed the hand-painted sign above the door. Flowers grew in pots on either side of the massive front doors. To the right was a garden that stretched from the path along the house, to the communal well. The lake behind the inn roared as its waterfalls hit the large pool beneath and then continued its journey eastward.

Both Aramis and d'Artagnan dismounted. A young stable hand saw to their horses, and they entered the inn. The aroma of spiced apple cakes filled the air and several guests walked to and from the grand hall that had been converted into the commissary to the right of the entry doors. A grand staircase curved upward, and the banister railing provided a perfect view of the lower level and the chandelier. The candles had already been lit.

Aramis' eyes grew wide at the decadence, and he stepped toward the small desk with a woman sitting behind it. She put aside her book, looked kindly at him, and brushed a stray strand of curly, brown hair from her cheek.

"May I help you, Monsieur?" She asked. Full figured with voluptuous breasts, the light blue of her dress accentuated the beauty of her eyes, and the innocence of her smile.

"We need beds for the night," Aramis said and watched d'Artagnan peek around the corner into the grand hall as food was served.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Monsieur," the young woman said. "We only have one room left, and that was reserved by the king, nearly four months ago at the announcement of Queen Anne's being with child." She blushed as she spoke and averted her gaze. When she composed herself, she continued, "King Louis has a standing reservation with us," she leaned forward and whispered, "his musketeers are supposed to arrive and pick up a gift for his queen." She giggled, hunched her shoulders, and looked around to make sure she wasn't overheard. "It's so romantic." She giggled and then blushed again.

Aramis smiled, winked at her, and then subtly shifted and pointed to the pauldron on his shoulder. "I'm one of those musketeers," he said as he leaned slightly over her desk.

The young woman's eyes grew large, and she stood suddenly, pushing the chair back and accidentally shoving the desk forward. "Monsieur, my apologies." She looked from Aramis to d'Artagnan, who had suddenly turned and looked at her with an amused smile. "Maman," she called for her mother. And then, as though she had found her voice, she shouted, "Maman! They're here!" She moved up and down on the balls of her feet in excitement. "They're here!"

Aramis stepped back, swallowed, and looked at her as she smiled shyly and shrugged once more. He turned suddenly when an older woman with silver hair, elegantly braided around the back of her head, entered the room with her arms spread wide. She smiled with rosy red cheeks and blue, hooded eyes. Like her daughter, Madame Sabot was a full figured woman with abundant breasts. Despite her effort to cover her cleavage, her breasts were nearly at shoulder height. The hem of her black and gray dress swayed at her feet.

"Who's here," Madame Sabot asked and placed her hands on her hips. Her eyes grew large when she noticed the pauldrons. "Welcome," she said with a smile. "Welcome… we've been expecting you." She paused suddenly and looked between them. "The queen…?" She raised her eyebrows and craned her neck forward. "We've not heard the news… has she delivered the child? Is it healthy?"

Both women stood motionless and waited in eager anticipation for his response.

Aramis nodded and quirked the corner of his mouth. "A healthy boy."

Both women screamed in joy and jumped up and down several times. Aramis stepped back and rubbed his upper lip to hide his amusement. D'Artagnan chuckled, crossed his arms over his chest, and shook his head.

"A boy… the future King of France," Madame Sabot said. "How wonderful. I imagine he's a beautiful boy, strong —"

"Royal," her daughter said. Both women squealed again.

Suddenly, Madame Sabot stopped and dabbed her forehead. "My, we haven't had this much excitement around here in years." She waved her hand in front of her face and then motioned for her daughter to hand her the skeleton key. "When my husband," she grasped the key, and then lifted the hem of her skirt, and walked to the stairs, "purchased this building. We had no idea that it would become the landmark it is today." She took several steps upward and struggled for breath. "The nobility traveling," she huffed, "from the southern regions stop in and see us frequently… it's a pleasure serving them. As a result," she took several deep breaths as she reached the top step, "Autun has become known for our markets," she giggled. "If you gentlemen have time…" her skirts bustled as she walked the hall toward their room, "take a walk through it. Our merchants have everything from rare chickens to unusual stones and gems, to spices — Oh," she paused suddenly and inhaled deeply, "the spices are wonderful… just wonderful."

Madame Sabot stopped in front of a door, slipped the key into the keyhole, and opened it. She stood to the side and smiled as both d'Artagnan and Aramis entered. "The hashery is run by Monsieur Elliot. I understand you'll only be staying for one night?"

"Correct," d'Artagnan said and took the key she handed to him.

"Welcome," Madame Sabot said and gently patted his arm. "Enjoy Autun while you're here and please… let the king know of your time here." She closed the door as she left.

Aramis inhaled deeply, rubbed his face, and looked at the room. A tall fireplace lined with river rock and granite stood tall between two narrow beds positioned on either side of the room. Above each headboard were two large windows that overlooked the waterfalls behind the chateau. A narrow credenza stood against the wall with the door, and atop sat a bowl of fresh fruit, a port of wine and several crystal glasses. The ornate bedding, quilted with vibrant fabrics, blended with the burgundy woven rug, and pillows.

"Welcome to Autun," Aramis said, walking to the window and looking outward. He reflected on a memory when he spotted several children playing near the water's edge. They threw a stick and a dog dove in after it.

D'Artagnan rubbed his face, grabbed an apple, and took a bite before he took a seat on the bed closest to the door. "Should we find the jeweler?" He smiled. "Or should we discover Autun?"