Dear all, many thanks for continuing to read.
After such a hectic start to the day, Treville has a couple of easy tasks for the Inseparables to fulfil.
TREVILLE
35 DAYS EARLIER
It is early afternoon when I arrive back at the garrison to find sparring going on in the yard. I circumnavigate the group of spectators and hand my horse to the stable boy who has run out to meet me. Athos and Aramis are sitting at their usual table, enjoying the warm afternoon sun. Aramis beckons me to join them even as Athos pre-empts my response, takes up an empty cup, half fills it with wine and holds it out to me.
I ease myself onto the bench but fail to mask a groan and I see Athos immediately raise a questioning eyebrow as he studies me. I take a good mouthful of the wine and suddenly remember that I have already had two large glasses of claret with the Cardinal. The quality of what I'm drinking now pales in comparison and I am sure Athos would be thinking the same, but neither of us is about to risk life and limb by openly criticising what Serge has provided.
"It was a very late night and an early start with too long in the saddle and far too long at the palace," I say by way of explanation. Aramis chuckles but Athos looks mildly unconvinced.
Porthos is facing three of his colleagues who are coming off worst if the dusty clothing and straw in their hair is anything to go by. The big man dives low and grabs one of them around the waist, the momentum enough to send his victim staggering backwards and he lets go just in time as the man hits the ground hard. Onlookers laugh out loud and roar encouragement at the unfortunate Musketeer who scrambles to his feet, shaking his head to announce that he will not suffer any more even as he dusts the seat of his breeches with one hand and extends the other in submission.
Porthos grins, shakes his hand and claps him on the back, a well-intentioned gesture that again has the man staggering, but forward this time. The other two men, chests heaving, likewise signal their withdrawal and walk away to friends.
"Any more of you?" Porthos bellows, his grin widening as he waggles his fingers in a 'come on' signal, but there are no takers. Their comments range from the polite refusal to the coarse, unrepeatable reply, but all are said in jest.
Still chuckling, he walks towards us and not for the first time, I marvel at the man's zest for life. He steps over the bench, sits down and accepts the wine that Aramis has now poured for him.
"How were things at the palace when you left?" Athos asks.
I exhale loudly. "The King is so distraught by his mother's behaviour that he is not receiving anyone, so it was Richelieu who explained to the council what has been happening."
"How did they take it?" Aramis wants to know.
"They were horrified. Some were displeased that we hadn't informed them before now and this morning's combined mission had occurred without their knowledge, but most came round to our way of thinking, that we had done the right thing in keeping it as quiet as possible." I look at Athos. "The Cardinal does not trust the Council."
He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
"What are we missin'?" Porthos demands and, between us, Athos and I relate what happened in the Cardinal's office and our unidentified eaves dropper.
"And he thinks it's a member of the Council?" Aramis is incredulous even as I nod.
Porthos is unwilling to accept it and frowns at Athos. "But you said you were straight after whoever it was and never caught 'em? Most of those council members are too old to move, let alone move quickly!"
There are smiles all round at Porthos' comments. As disrespectful as he might sound, he has got a point and I clear my throat, trying to draw them back to being serious once more. "I agree that we can probably disregard two of the men; they can just about move with aid, but we would have to consider the others."
"But where does the Cardinal get this idea from in the first place?" Porthos persists.
"No doubt he is thinking of access to the Louvre at that time of night or ease of movement around the corridors," Athos offers by way explanation. "If it is someone frequently seen at the palace, they are less likely to be noticed."
I make a decision. "All the same, I will speak with the men who were on duty there last night to see if any of them did see members of the council there late in the evening. They all have separate accommodation in Paris; not one of them resides at the Louvre."
It was obvious that Porthos was unconvinced. "It could've been any of the courtiers or some outsider creepin' around. Some other spy sent in by Bircann 'imself to do 'is work for 'im. Maybe it was one of Richelieu's own network who's turned. I bet they know where the secret passages an' doors are."
"The door in Richelieu's office could hardly be described as secret," Athos sounds scathing. "The Captain has known of its existence for a very long time and when I heard the noise, I saw it immediately."
"Definitely no secret then," Aramis quips. "That'll upset the Cardinal."
I raise a hand to curb any more banter from them. "Richelieu is convinced that it is one of the council who is a traitor. If he has any firm reasons for this supposition rather than a gut instinct, then he has not seen fit to share them with me as yet. As we have nothing more to go on for now, I, for one, am happy to follow his lead."
"So he's goin' to question the council members then?" Porthos downs his wine in one go and reaches for the pitcher to refill it.
"Not as such," I begin. "He has a plan and will have individual meetings with the council members. To that end, I have returned with a pile of letters he has written and wishes delivered today to the council."
"I expect I can guess where this is leading," Aramis grins, slaps his thighs and prepares to stand.
"Not so fast," I stop him, and he relaxes back onto the bench. "There is also a request from the Queen. One of her ladies-in-waiting urgently needs to be escorted back to her home just south of the city; her father is dangerously ill. She will have packed what she requires by the time two of you get back to the palace; you will be able to get there and back by this evening. It only needs one of you to take the letters. Sort it out between you who does what."
Aramis raises an eyebrow and lays a hand over his heart. "It is my duty to assist a young lady in distress."
I could have had a wager that that was what was going through his mind.
Athos rolls his eyes. "Aramis, the lady-in-waiting is all-consumed by concern for her father; she will be impervious to all your charms. Besides, it is poor taste if you think you can take advantage of her vulnerability at this time."
Aramis looks suitably shocked. "You do me a great wrong, brother, if you think I would behave in such a manner when she is understandably upset."
Athos huffs and looks my way. "Are you sure you do not want to have an input on who does what?"
I cannot help but chuckle. These three men, my Inseparables as I have named them, can drive me to distraction on occasions, but they have such a strong bond of brotherhood and friendship. They can argue between themselves, but they work together as a formidable team, although it is probably for the best that I do not always know the methods they employ to get their impressive results. They think as one and communicate with just a look that is very infuriating when I feel excluded, but they are men of honour and duty, committed to the King and France, and loyal to me; I would trust them with my life and have done.
Before I can give an answer though, Porthos makes the decision for all of us.
"You take the letters and Paris, Athos. You an' the Captain here had a very short night what with all the arrangements an' all for today. We'll take the ride an' I'll do my best to keep 'im out of trouble."
He indicates Aramis with a jerk of the head.
"They are menial tasks, mere deliveries; a lady-in-waiting and some letters from the Cardinal. There is no reason why any of you should get into trouble!"
