Here's the first of two chapters tonight. Aramis and Porthos arrive back in Paris with their prisoner.
Thank you for reading and leaving comments. I appreciate the encouragement. :) Apologies if I have missed any errors.
CHAPTER 46
ARAMIS
3 DAYS EARLIER
Late afternoon and I lead the column through the archway and into the garrison yard, disrupting the sparring practice that is currently underway, but the men and a couple of stable boys take advantage of the interruption to advance and take our horses from us. Immense relief floods over me as I slide from the saddle, staggering slightly as my legs are momentarily unwilling to take my weight. Seven consecutive days in the saddle and my body knows it.
Tréville comes out onto his balcony on hearing us and surveys the scene below him, understanding it all in a moment as his eyes take in the men and horses. We have all returned, unscathed and there is our prisoner, Deauville; the reason for the mission in the first place. He is unharmed and uncharacteristically silent.
For three days on the road, he had vainly protested his innocence, maintained that he was the victim of some conspiracy, that he was wrongly accused and eventually concocted a plethora of alternative theories as to why or how he found himself in this predicament. It fell on deaf ears and this morning, as we approached the city of Paris, he finally stopped talking, the reality of his situation now evident and silenced by the fear of what was to come.
Catching Tréville's eye, I nod. The mission has been largely uneventful, save for the brief skirmish on our arrival. He takes time to look again at the returning party and I see his shoulders slump.
No, Captain, he's not with us. We didn't find him. We tore Deauville's place apart, including any outbuildings, the nearby woods and any cottages in the vicinity. Athos was not there.
Claude emerges from the direction of the kitchen with Serge, who is wiping his hands on a cloth. From the papers that Claude is clutching, I suspect that they have been discussing food orders. I know how the task rankles with Athos and guess that Claude is none too enamoured with the task either, but such are the burdens of responsibility. Both their faces noticeably brighten when their eyes settle on us.
"Claude," Tréville begins as he descends the stairs from his office, "the men need to rest so I'm giving the charge of the prisoner over to you. Take ten men with you and escort the Baron to the Chatelet whilst I send word of his arrival in Paris to the Cardinal."
"My pleasure," Claude replies, as he glares at the prisoner and hands over the papers to the Captain. I try to smother a smirk as he looks too eager to relinquish them.
"Serge?"
"Yes, Captain." The old cook steps forward to where Tréville still stands slightly elevated on the second step from the bottom. "See to it that the men have food and drink as soon as possible. Aramis, Porthos, you're both with me."
Porthos and I exchange weary glances. An immediate report is normal on our return from any mission, but we are both hungry and watch as Serge leads the men from the yard; the same men who have ridden with us.
"The sooner we report to the Captain, the sooner we can eat and relax," Porthos states, a hand resting on my shoulder.
I sigh and trudge wearily up the stairs, using the handrail to almost pull myself up each step. I am in dire need of my bed as I haven't slept properly since we rode out of the garrison a week ago and as for sleeping before that … I cannot remember the last time I had a truly restful night and wonder if I ever will again.
Stifling a yawn, I follow Porthos into the Captain's office. He has already set two chairs before his desk and is in the process of pouring brandy into three cups.
"Sit yourselves down," he orders, pushing two of the cups towards us across the desk-top. We mumble our thanks and take our seats.
"I take it you didn't find him then," Tréville asks quietly before we've even had the chance of a first sip.
We know he means Athos and when we shake our heads, he seems to shrink within his chair. I don't think we had appreciated just how much he was hoping that he was correct in his latest supposition, and he seems to have deflated at our news.
Between us, we report on our journey to Deauville's manor house, the resistance we met on our arrival, how it was quickly quashed and our subsequent search of the house, outbuildings, the immediate grounds, tenants' cottages and as much of the surrounding area as deemed necessary with its farmlands and forests.
"That's why we're a bit later back than planned," Porthos says. "We ended up stayin' overnight an' leavin' the next day as the search was more extensive than we thought it'd be."
"Never mind," Tréville assures us. "At least you were able to be thorough."
I want to scream out that 'being thorough' is getting us nowhere. We are fast running out of options, if we haven't exhausted them already. I have no idea what to suggest next; what we should do; where we should look. A man cannot just disappear without any trace and yet that is what Athos has done.
We have to be missing something!
Tréville rubs a hand tiredly over his face. "I will see Richelieu in the morning. I'm not asking; I'm telling him that I am going to see Bircann as soon as possible."
Porthos frowns. "Why don't you go straight to the Chatelet?"
"They wouldn't admit me. The Cardinal has made it very clear that access to the prisoner is now highly restricted. Richelieu has put a man inside the Chatelet as one of the guards but there hasn't been any attempt to get information inside the prison to him in recent days. There are a couple of reasons for that. The informant might not have anything to tell him, or they have their suspicions about the guard who is the Cardinal's inside source."
"But Gondy's dead. We knew that. You mean someone else in the prison has taken over givin' 'im messages?"
Porthos' anger reflects exactly how I'm feeling right now and I take a deep breath before asking my question.
"Is the Cardinal's man watching anyone in particular?!
Tréville nods. "The man under scrutiny is the other chief gaoler, Ferel."
Porthos and I exchange amazed glances and are speechless. Ferel had seemed so honest. We were united in our distrust of Gondy, sympathised with Ferel about the other man's ineptness in his job and lack of discretion. He had even told us about his wife and sick child. We believed him and yet he might be the one now furnishing Bircann with messages from an outside informant!
I sigh heavily as I realise that ever since Athos first went missing, Porthos and I - and probably the Captain too – have become blinded by our worry. We are not thinking straight, not functioning as effectively as we would under more 'normal' circumstances, for want of a better word. Every day, we are knocked by another setback, another dead end in our search, but I keep reminding myself that whilst I find the situation frustrating, how much worse it must be for my brother. How is Athos faring? Is he hurt? Does he think that we have given up on him? Dear God, please don't let him start believing that!
"Aramis." The Captain is studying me, his brow furrowed in consternation. "Is something wrong?"
Porthos is watching me too and I hasten to reassure them both.
"I am fine, merely exhausted." I try to think back to the last bit of the conversation that I remember. "Has Ferel been arrested for questioning?"
I do not miss the silent exchange between Tréville and Porthos and realise that I have missed more of the discussion than I thought, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat at my lack of concentration. Just another example of how I am not functioning properly at present!
The Captain patiently explains. "Richelieu wants his man to watch and follow. The gaoler must be meeting someone, either the council member himself or his messenger, whom we hope will lead us back to the traitor."
"And what do we do in the meantime?" Porthos asks. "Where do we look next?"
"We'll discuss that tomorrow," Tréville says, getting to his feet so that we are drawn to do likewise. "For now, you two are going to get some food inside you, get to bed and rest. You look dead on your feet. We will reconvene when I have seen Richelieu."