Unsaid (A Lament)

Chapter 1

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The air in the garrison felt unusually thick, filled with anxiety and tension. It had been almost two hours since Athos and Aramis had hurriedly left it after getting their horses, desperately trying to reach Minister Treville and their friends Porthos and D'Artagnan in the camp of the Duke of Lorraine. The feeling of imminent danger posed on all three of them was palpable due to the events that immediately unravelled following the King's untimely death. And there was also the new King, who was only six years old and seized by Grimaud, another captive of Lorraine by now…

"Brujon?"
"Yes, Madame D'Artagnan?" replied the cadet.
"Pick twenty best cadets and tell them to stand by. I'll pick the best musketeers. If the Captain doesn't return within half an hour, we will ride out to Lorraine's camp."
The young man's eyes widened in awe.
"You want to attack them?" he asked quietly, pushing aside the pride in how much she trusted his judgment. "They have a whole army…"

Constance absently checked the dagger attached to the back of her waist belt.
"Things have gone too far too quickly. The army is right at the gates of Paris, the King is dead and the new King is certain not to survive him for long if nobody does anything as soon as possible. We can't afford to lose our best men when the fate of this city and country is at stake. Sitting here and waiting won't help anyone."
"Of course, Madam." Brujon nodded, impressed.
Constance attempted a smile, trying to encourage him. "We will fight this through. We always have."

He smiled and walked out of the room where the garrison dwellers usually shared their meals. On his way to meet the other cadets, he passed Sylvie. A genuine but understanding smile appeared on his face as he walked by and nodded. The wait was difficult for all of them, but for the women of the garrison, it was deeply personal, as well.

Sylvie smiled back, grateful for any positive moment. Her nerves have been stretched ever since she and Constance were trying to hide the royal child from the sight of the enemies earlier that day. The news of him being captured by Grimaud after they had left him with D'Artagnan was deeply disturbing, and not only because the musketeer had been captured as well.

Despite all her general distrust in the royal institution, Sylvie couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy who had lost his father so unexpectedly and so young and whose own life was hanging by a thread. Moreover, the few hours she had spent with the new King awakened something else in her more than ever – maternal instincts. He was a boy like any other, needing paternal love and care as all children. The crown predestined for his head didn't change anything about that fact, and Sylvie knew that if needed, she would have protected him at any cost.

Her mind drifted to Athos again and she closed her eyes.
I should have told him… What if he'll never get the chance to find out? What if…?
A shiver went down her spine at the thought of the most dreadful image in her head.
Stop it! He survived a war and Grimaud's attack, he will come back…

She shuddered again and put her arms around herself, trying to hide the signs of her body's betrayal. Courage had never been a stranger to her but after everything that had happened in the past few months, it was accompanied by something else – fear. Love always comes with fear for those we care about the most, and she had more than Athos to fear for now…

"I know that feeling," she suddenly heard a voice say behind her.
Only then did she notice that she had walked out into the yard while brooding. Turning around, she saw Constance, looking worried, but with a small smile lingering on her lips. She stood next to her friend, who was looking at the underpass in front of them, waiting for a familiar sight to appear – so far in vain.

"Does it ever get easier?" Sylvie mused.
"No," answered Constance truthfully, sighing. "The wait is always distressing, the not knowing whether he'll return or not… But you have to try not to think about it."
"How?"
"By keeping busy. You have to find some distraction otherwise it will drive you mad."

The two women looked toward the underpass again, seeing only a couple of cadets walking in and out of the garrison.
"When he went to look for Grimaud, in the state he was in and I didn't hear about him for a few days, I was as restless as never before," Sylvie admitted, frowning. "And I didn't even know yet that…" Her voice suddenly faded as she realised, she had said more than intended to. Too late – Constance was intrigued.
"Didn't know what?" she asked.

Sylvie closed her eyes and sighed. "That there was… someone else to consider too."
Her eyes dropped down, then back to her friend's face, while her hand landed on her tummy.
Constance's eyes widened and she gasped, smiling widely.
"Sylvie! That's wonderful!" she exclaimed with joy, immediately followed by horror when remembering the lashes on Sylvie's back.
"He doesn't know yet, nobody does," her friend silenced her hastily but not suppressing a smile."I've only known it for a little while."
"My God, Sylvie… You were with child while Marcheaux…"
"I'm fine," the mother-to-be gently interrupted her. "We are fine."

Madame D'Artagnan frowned and shook her head.
"He was right," she said then, observing the woman in front of her with more admiration than ever before. The question in Sylvie's eyes brought back the smile to her face. "Athos. He said there is more life and resilience in you than anyone could imagine."

Words refused to come. The feeling that washed over Sylvie hearing those words overwhelmed her, bringing water to her eyes. She quickly wiped a single tear from her cheek and smiled widely.
"You must tell him," Constance insisted gently. "I know he'll be happy."

Sylvie was surprised; the truth was, she had no idea how the Captain would take this unexpected news. She didn't doubt his love for her, knowing he wouldn't leave her to deal with parenthood alone, but a child meant a dramatic change in both of their lives, and she couldn't be sure how his position as the Captain could be affected by it.

"I don't know how," she admitted silently in defeat, all sorts of emotions playing on her face.
"I don't want him to feel trapped or…"
"Sylvie…" Constance softly squeezed her forearm, smiling warmly. "He is trapped already – by love." She raised her eyebrows, her smile changing into a cheeky grin. "And I can assure you, he definitely doesn't feel bad about that."

Sylvie didn't have time to respond because at that moment, the sharp sound of horse hooves resounded in the garrison and both women quickly turned their heads. Relieved, they both gasped happily, seeing the Athos, D'Artagnan, Aramis and Porthos approach them on their horses. However, their smiles faded quickly when seeing the expression on the men's faces – defeat, devastation and pain…

"What happened?" Constance was the first to find words, extremely worried now, while the musketeers dismounted their horses, watched by a few cadets who suddenly appeared in the yard.
No reply came; everyone could see the four friends were deeply distraught by something. Did Treville's plan fail? Was the new King dead?

"Athos?" Sylvie asked when the Captain froze on the spot, still clutching his horse's reigns in his hands. The brim of his hat was hiding his face but his chest was heaving.
He didn't dare to look at her, only gathered all his self-control to let go of the horse and turn around, his eyes pinned to the ground. With a few steps he walked past her and everyone else in his way and almost ran up the stairs, disappearing inside the garrison.

Before she could follow him, Aramis finally spoke, with a broken voice, and all eyes were fixed on him.
"The King is safe but…Treville is dead…"

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