Thank you for waiting patiently. The first draft of the novel is at last completed and now the hard work begins on the first edit ... but not before I have produced some more of 'Broken'. :) Also, thanks for continued comments; all bring encouragement and are most welcome.

In this chapter, Athos' mood plummets. How can he go on?

CHAPTER 37

ATHOS

"He's fallen asleep again. All he seems to do is sleep," a voice complains loudly and deliberately. I know that I am meant to hear it and react, but I choose to ignore it instead.

It is Guy and I have quickly learned that he is far too fond of complaining. Personal experience has already demonstrated that he is incapable of doing anything else. I am reliably informed by the others that it is as a result of this constant negativity and criticism, primarily directed at Bircann and his methods of running his estate, that eventually drove the nobleman to take against Guy who was his estate manager for over a decade. As a result of being so vocal for so long and for making far too many independent decisions, Bircann decided one day that his patience had been tried for too long and so he threw the obstinate steward down into this pit.

It seems to me to be a somewhat extreme punishment. Surely a firm word and a verbal threat might have sufficed. He certainly has not learned his lesson though and I wonder that the other two have put up with him for so long. It is ironic that if he were not already dead, I would have been forced to strangle him before now to silence him.

Perhaps I am talking myself into sympathising with Bircann. It is hard to believe that anything could link us given my current circumstances.

I like Guillaume though. There is much about him that reminds me of Porthos, and I find that, strangely, this affords me some comfort. In life apparently, he was tall and strong, just like Porthos, and was responsible for training and leading Bircann's men should the monarch call upon the nobles to provide a militia in time of conflict. It was unfortunate that the men he had diligently turned from ploughmen and other labourers into a basic fighting force had subsequently been used to turn against the crown. He regretted expending his time and energy on them for that and, when he voiced his objections to Bircann, this pit was his reward.

Dismissal was not an option as he might have raised an alarm, and a belated compliance could not be trusted by his master. Piecing together what Guillaume had to say, I gather this was at the time of the last attempted uprising by Bircann on behalf of Marie de Medici. It was the same period when Tréville had been taken prisoner by the nobleman.

I have no idea what the Captain suffered at the man's hands for he will not be open about it and I will not press him to find out, even though it might help him come to terms with what happened. No, a man is entitled to keep some things close to his chest. After all, it is the rule I have lived by for the past few years, so I have no right to judge others who do the same. I can only presume that he was not subjected to this type of incarceration, and for that I am thankful.

I would not wish it upon my worst enemy – not even Bircann himself – the end that confronts me. There is no knowing how long I can survive in this state and in these conditions and wonder what would happen if I were just to give up. Would that bring death any more quickly? Would such a decision bring dishonour upon me? Who would know?

"We would," Gervais says softly, yet firmly.

It struck me from the outset how like the Captain he sounds. There is a gravitas in his tone that makes me listen and in the time that we have been conversing, I have realised that I cannot dismiss his good counsel. It is just unfortunate that Guy does not heed his advice or warnings for Gervais has little patience with him at times and chastises him roundly on occasion.

"Have Guy muck out the stables," I suggest, deliberately changing the topic of conversation. It is a menial but necessary task at the garrison and usually undertaken by the stable boys, but Tréville frequently uses it as a form of punishment to bring his Musketeers back into line for some of them see it as a task beneath them.

I huff in amusement for I cannot recall how many times Porthos, Aramis and I have been set to cleaning out the stalls, sometimes individually but more often than not, for the three of us together when we have been caught fighting the Cardinal's Red Guard. We never moan for we know we have usually deserved it, and we also know that it gives the stable boys a much-deserved rest from the back-breaking, stinking chore. Tréville raises his voice at us and we take his censure, but sometimes I think that he punishes us because he feels he has to, for appearance's sake when it is the result of an altercation with Richelieu's men.

Many a-time, as he dismisses us, he asks who won as a matter of course. He probably knows the answer when he sees us unscathed for I have observed him carefully looking us over during his tirade; he is searching for any visible injuries and when, nine times out of ten, we admit that we have taught the Red Guard a lesson, he scolds us again, adding that we go out of our way to fuel the long-standing animosity between the two regiments.

Then, as I reach the door, I surreptitiously glance back at him and catch the undisguised triumph on his face. Sometimes, our eyes meet and he nods, attempting to resume his sternness, but I cannot miss the twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. Internally, he rejoices at our victory although he would never say as much out loud.

"Your attempt at diversion has failed," Gervais says, and now I swear that it really is Tréville's voice. "You cannot give up. It is not within you to do so and even in the early days of your becoming a Musketeer, you never gave up then, although you were at your lowest point. The despair and guilt eating away at you was so strong and you have tried far too many times to drown those feelings in bottles of wine, but something in you refused to give up.

"And you will not do so now. It will be a betrayal of your brothers and your Captain if you allow them to come upon you when it is too late. Would you lay that guilt at their door?"

"But how can they find me? I know they will be looking for me, but there has to come a time when they stop and they will be forced to acknowledge that I am lost to them. Tréville can only allow them to search for so long; they have other duties, other responsibilities and demands upon their time. It is not rational nor a good use of manpower to allow them to carry on indefinitely. It is impractical."

"Ever the pragmatist, Athos. Allow your brothers and Captain the emotional investment in you," Guillaume adds, "otherwise you do them a disservice."

I am not convinced. There has to be that moment when the Captain, albeit reluctantly, calls off all searches and declares me dead. I would do it in his place. Yes, my friends would grieve and, I hope, some others in the garrison. Aramis would insist that there is some memorial service and prayers for my dark soul and then they would all move on; it would be expected of them. Porthos and Aramis would continue to grieve quietly together and I am sure that they would never forget me, but my name would eventually fade into the recesses of Musketeer history as do the colleagues buried in the garrison cemetery. The difference now being that I will be forever denied a marker to speak of my previous existence.

"Will I become as you are?" I ask of the Three Gs in the darkness, unsure as to whether I am speaking my fears aloud.

"Undoubtedly," Guy snaps.

"It is possible," Guillaume says gently.

"Probably not," Gervais is adamant, "if you agree not to surrender, but persist in fighting to stay alive for when your brothers come."

My future is bleak, but I confess that I am not ready just yet to give up on life itself. My desire to be reunited with my brothers is too strong and in my heart, I know they will not give up on me. I just have to remind myself that present circumstances cause my thoughts to be inconstant.

I will hold on to what Gervais tells me as if he is my Captain issuing me with an order, and be comforted by Guillaume, who is the closest I have to Porthos at the moment. That fills me with a sudden sadness as I miss Aramis so much.

There is a streak of awkwardness and stubbornness in me though, there always has been. It has become a matter of principle now that I prove Guy wrong!