The four men rode through Paris, tired and in no mood to deal with the King's petulant demands. Treville took the lead with Athos by his side.
'I have no idea what awaits you Athos, but I have a bad feeling.'
'That is a reasonable assumption,' was the only response the Captain received, and for once the man in charge of the King's personal regiment felt completely out of control. The last few days had been nothing but madness; there was no sense to any of it. Had this all been about Athos' title, the Benoir's death and that of Dubois, down to jealousy and revenge? He sighed with frustration, for he knew men had died for far less. Yet, the man with the scarred face and the man he now knew as Baron Broussard – Athos' cousin – were still at large, and what their plans were who knew?
Porthos and Aramis took up the rear, side by side. 'What do you think Louis wants?'
Aramis shook his head in utter confusion. 'I really have no idea, though I have an awful lot of ugly suspicions.'
'Richelieu must know everythin' by now. Giroux will 'ave spilled his guts out, and enjoyed every minute of it.'
'I have no doubt you are correct. Just what he will do with the information is the thing that concerns me. He will not be pleased to hear Milady is back in Paris, and far too interested to know why she was with Athos in Pinot.'
'Well 'e's not the only one there,' grumbled the large Musketeer.
'With the King, one never knows whether he wishes to see you out of anger or childish glee. I doubt either is good news for Athos, but I cannot see what we can do, other than be there.'
'Well I don't like it.'
'Neither do I, mon amis, neither do I.'
They neared the palace, Treville and Athos a little ahead. The crowds had been thick, the cold weather encouraging the populace to conduct their business before the day grew colder and darker. Athos and Treville alighted and walked into the large edifice.
''O's that lurking in the shadows?' Porthos whispered.
Aramis slid from his horse and circumvented the ornate gardens, arriving at his intended spot unseen.
'Milady, what a lovely surprise.' She felt the tip of the blade at her throat and sighed.
'I'm trying to help you, fool. Athos is about to have a most unfortunate conversation with the King, and we need to do something.'
'What're you talking about?' Porthos demanded, now having joined the cosy pair.
'The King thinks Athos will be just the man he needs for his council, and with his noble background revealed, Athos will have no excuse for refusing. But we know Athos better, and God knows what will happen if he does defy Louis.'
Aramis and Athos exchanged panicked looks. 'Can you create a diversion?' the marksman demanded.
Milady quirked an elegant brow. 'If you insist.' She twisted from his grip and sank further back into the shadows, disappearing through a small door hidden by a swathe of ivy.
'I don't know why you trust 'er.'
'Because at this point, we have very little choice. We need to get Athos away from here now.' The two men charged into the palace straight into Madame Bonacieux.
'Oh for goodness' sake, what is it with you Musketeers today?' The young woman bent to retrieve her spilled rolls of fabric. 'Can't you just look where you're going?'
'Apologies, Madame, we have a most urgent task to perform.' Aramis' apology was lost to her ears as the two men raced past the irritated woman and into the bowels of the palace.
ooOoo
If there was one useful fact Milady had learnt working for the Cardinal, it was the existence of the myriad of secret passages and tunnels that spread throughout the palace like veins beneath the skin. There were those designed to keep the hardworking nobodies, responsible for providing their King's every need, out of sight of those more important, and then there were those designed and built for far more nefarious reasons – to spy and plot, without the knowledge of those within. It was one of the latter passages that Milady hurried along now, as fast as she was able within the confined space. She had entered with no clear idea of what she was going to do, but as she neared the main rooms, where the King conducted his audiences with his sycophants, she realised she had only one option.
ooOoo
Aramis and Porthos turned the corner at speed and almost barrelled into Athos and the Captain, poised before the door to the King's apartments.
'Thank goodness, we thought you had already entered.' If Athos and Treville were surprised, they never had the opportunity to voice their questions, as a shot rang out beyond the double doors.
Treville pushed his way past the two Red Guards posted at the entrance, and the scene inside was chaos to say the least. Courtiers ran to and fro, whilst one or two brave souls were bent over the prone figure of another guard, lying still upon the floor.
ooOoo
Milady moved the panel to one side, hoping it would slide silently, and pressing herself close to the wall of the tunnel she peered through the two small holes that were now evident. She could see the King and Anne sitting surrounded by a group of young nobles; Louis was in an obviously good mood, but she had no time to debate what was going on. Taking in the various personages in the room, she chose the one most suitable. Taking her pistol from her waistband she poked the end through one of the spy-holes. Hoping she would actually hit what she was aiming for, gently, she pulled the trigger. The explosion sounded exceptionally loud and for a second there was total silence. The surprised guard staggered, and then dropped lifeless to the ground.
Not a bad shot. But she had no time to enjoy her impressive aim, as Richelieu would soon work out where the shot had come from. She had done her part, now it was up to Aramis and Porthos to do theirs. Instead of going back the way she had come, she diverted down a small set of stairs and made her way toward the kitchens and the quickest way to exit the palace unseen.
ooOoo
'The King!' Treville barked, and the Musketeers hustled the royal pair out of the room and into the immediate safety of the private apartments. Two more Musketeers appeared from their duty outside and Aramis and Porthos returned to the captain, leaving their comrades to take care of the King and Queen.
Most of the royal entourage had been sent from the room. A lone male, identifying himself as a medical man, knelt beside the body of the fallen guard. He shook his head and Porthos grunted.
'Well I suppose you could call this a diversion.'
'I did not tell her to shoot someone,' Aramis insisted.
Porthos shrugged. 'Well I suppose you didn't give 'er enough time to sleep with somebody.'
The medic frowned at his friend's sarcasm. 'She did not have to kill someone.'
'What's going on and where is Athos?' came the terse bark of the Captain.
Both Musketeers froze. 'What do you mean where's Athos? He was with you.'
'Well he is not here now,' Treville growled. 'What is going on?'
'We caught 'er snooping outside. She said Louis was goin' to unmask Athos and ask 'im to be on 'is new council. Aramis asked 'er to create a diversion whilst we got Athos away.' Porthos had the grace to look a little sheepish as he glanced at the diversion laid out upon the floor.
'She shot the guard as a diversion?' the Captain asked incredulously.
'Well, we did not give her much time to come up with a plan.' Aramis shuffled at the poor excuse.
'You call this debacle a plan?' Treville hissed through gritted teeth. 'So where have you put him?'
The two Musketeers looked at one another. 'We haven't put him anywhere, we last saw him in the corridor with you.' All three men turned as one and hurried to the main corridor outside. The space was empty, conspicuously so.
'Where are the guards from this doorway?' the Captain yelled, interrogating the group of men coming towards him. They appeared to know nothing, and the Musketeers ran through the corridors, dreading what they might encounter next.
Nothing.
They reached the steps leading back down to the ornate gardens, only to find Madame Bonacieux still chatting with two ladies from the Queen's maids.
'Madam, have you seen Athos?'
'Not you again. No I have not, not since he practically knocked me over on the stairs.'
'Has anyone come this way, since yourself?' Treville asked, as patiently as he was able.
'No, why, what has happened?' The woman had dropped any attempt at reprimanding the soldiers. 'I have not seen anyone, the grounds have been empty. I am sorry I have no idea where Athos is.'
The three men nodded their thanks and backed away. 'Now what?' Porthos queried. He was not happy and – even more annoying – he was not quite sure who he was not happy with.
ooOoo
Earlier, as Athos had strode along the corridors beside a silent Treville, thoughts had raced through his mind, attempting to sieve through the various scenarios about to play out before him. He had no doubt Giroux had by now divulged everything he had seen and heard to his master, and Richelieu would be putting together two and two and probably making six.
They would know he had been to Pinot, even though it was not on the list of towns and villages where the alleged highway men had been seen. They would know they had stayed at the château, and they would know Anne had been there too. He could probably talk his way around most of these facts, but Anne's presence would not be so easy. Of course, he could feign ignorance and suggest she was in on the plot, but then again Giroux had probably heard him defend her.
There had been no hue and cry after the attack outside Anet, so he doubted that news would have reached the ears of the court. Doubtful the King would hold him personally responsible for the death of Dubois, the fact he felt responsible was consideration for another time. No, the worst case scenario was the one he knew his Captain also suspected. Louis was going to reveal his true identity and ask him to assist France in some formal capacity as advisor. What a disaster.
So engrossed was he with a plan to survive the next hour, he did not see the young woman coming toward him carrying a large bolster of fabric. When the two collided Athos managed to save himself, but the other party fell to the floor with a large whoosh and sat stunned beneath a cloud of silk.
'You oaf, help me up,' came the muffled cry under the cloth.
'Madame, forgive me, I was far too consumed with my own problems.' Athos managed to clear the unravelled roll and pass it to Treville, as he helped Madame Bonacieux to her feet.
'Athos. I should have known it would be a Musketeer.' She grabbed the fabric, once more under control. 'Look where you are going, and slow down.'
With that, she stuck out her chin and strode away from the slightly stunned men.
Athos and Treville had barely reached the door of the public apartments, when Aramis and Porthos came hurtling around the corner. Athos quirked a brow at their hasty arrival but before any words could be spoken, a shot rang out from within.
Treville entered first, Aramis and Porthos in his wake. Athos did nothing. One hand snaked around his neck, another covering his mouth, then something hard and heavy crashed down upon his head.
When he awoke it was dark. He was cold and his head hurt… again. Luckily, or perhaps not exactly lucky, this time the crack to the head had been on the opposite side to the one he had sustained only days before. However, it still hurt like hell.
Water dripped from somewhere nearby, and he could smell damp and mould. He did not have to wait long before booted feet approached.
'So you finally woke up.' Athos lifted his head at the familiar voice.
'Giroux. I would say it was a pleasure, but I would be lying.' A sharp boot caught him in the side sending him sprawling onto the cold flagstones. It was the first time he realised his hands were tied, not exactly surprising under the circumstances.
'Do not tell me you are planning to overthrow the monarchy,' the Musketeer drawled, attempting to clear his head.
'Just keeping you out of the way for a while,' the guard sneered.
'Oh really, could you not find anywhere with furniture, or do you sleep in the sewers with the other rats?' It was probably not a good idea to goad the soldier, but somehow he could not help it. He received another kick for his remark, along with a punch to the face.
'I have just the place to keep you, somewhere your friends will never think to look. Just the place, in fact, for a murderer and a criminal. You may even decide you prefer the sewer.' The man's laughter made Athos' blood run cold. He had a nasty idea where he was headed; he had been there once before and sworn to never return, yet it would seem he had little choice.
'Is the cart outside? Giroux asked of a figure in the shadows. 'It is getting late.'
'Yes, Captain, it's covered like you asked, the warden is waiting.' The man's words confirmed Athos' suspicions. As Giroux reached for him, Athos bought his head down upon the man's nose, not for the first time either.
'You bastard,' the Captain snuffled. When his fist hit Athos in the mouth the Musketeer staggered backward, only to be grabbed around the collar as another fist caught him under the chin. He was hauled upright and forced to walk between the damp pillars. His left eye was closing nicely, but he suspected he was somewhere near the river, under one of the many arches of the bridge. A waiting cart stood in the darkness, the moon now high overhead suggesting the lateness of the hour. The soldiers hoisted him into the back and jumped in after him, somehow managing to get in a couple of kicks to the ribs as they did so.
Athos slumped against the canvas and waited. The cart rumbled along, and the inhabitants sat in silence, not even ribbing the Musketeer about his fallen circumstances. Athos felt the cart come to a stop, and the canvas was pulled aside, but before he could see where he was, a sack was placed over his head and he was hauled to the ground.
Muffled voices, stifled laughter, and the sound of what Athos suspected was the chink of coin changing hands, was all he could make out. A heavy bolt was drawn, and Athos was pushed forward. He might have hoped he was heading to the Bastille, but the stench of old blood and sewers told him had had not been that lucky. No, his destination, without a doubt, was the foul and dank chambers of the Châtelet – and God knows what awaited him within.