Wracked with fever, I tended to General de Foix as best I could, but I was fighting a losing battle. His wound was too severe, I suspected it had perforated a vital organ. At best I could only try to temper his pain. I sponged away his sweat and cooled the fever, unable to do anything more. General de Foix had already accepted his fate, maintaining good spirits even in the face of his death. He was weak, but when he could make conversation, he was an interesting man to listen to. Feeling lightly at his forehead, I noticed his eyes beginning to flutter awake. When he saw me, his mouth curled upwards. "You are still here."
"Where else would I be, general?" Feeling just how hot his brow was, I reached for the soaked sponge and squeezed off the excess, listening to the trickling drips before bringing it to dab against his brow.
"You are a sweet girl, Madeleine. I appreciate your kindness."
"No kindness, general. This is my pleasure," replacing the sponge with a damp cloth, I lay it over his forehead to keep him cooled. "I am only sorry I cannot do more." Chuckling softly, the general took my hand in his then patted it firmly.
"Some things are out of our hands, sweet girl. Now, my soul is in the hands of God, and soon I shall be called to his divine kingdom. I am not afraid of death, at least I shall meet my end in the land of my forefathers…God's good France."
"Vive le France," I agreed softly, placing my own hand atop his. "Is there anything I can do for you?" Weakly, the general shook his head.
"I have all I need owing to your care," feeling his hand twitch between my own, General de Foix winced seemingly from pain, yet there was something to his expression which seemed reminiscent of guilt. "There is…something I would ask of you, if you would but lend me your ear." Nodding to agree, I shifted myself a little closer to listen. "The musketeer Porthos, I hope you will forgive me, but I notice that you are close to one another. I wonder perhaps…what do you know of his background?" Slightly suspicious by this outlandish question, I regarded the general carefully.
"In truth, Porthos does not speak a great deal about his past, and anything I know or he has shared with me was spoken in confidence. Why do you ask?" Again the general's expression flickered, and in the dim light of the room I wondered what might be happening behind those pain ridden winces.
"It is only…" observing closely, my thoughts swirled gradually to formulate my own suspicions until everything boiled down to my final estimation.
"You know him." Gradually the general turned to look at me, and now I could clearly see his guilt.
"There is a shame upon my conscience which I have carried nigh on twenty years." A harrowing suspicion of dread began to descend upon me. "If I speak to you of it, to ease my soul, would you vow to keep your silence? Especially from Porthos. I gave my own word to another I would not speak to him of what I know, but it weighs heavily upon my heart." For a moment I had to consider, for this was no small favour the general was asking of me. To keep a secret from Porthos, it felt more than dishonesty, but a betrayal of his trust. I knew I could not do so, despite the fact that if the general knew something of Porthos' past I wanted to know, so that I might be able to tell him. However, if I gave my word to General de Foix, then I would be trapped into silence. I could not betray my own word.
"General…if there is something that weighs upon your conscience owing to guilt, then it is with God you must make your peace, not me." Coming to a decision, I knew that there was only one choice in this. "If you wish to tell me something about Porthos that he is yet unaware of, then I cannot promise you my confidence. Porthos is a dear man, loyal and kind to a fault, and I care about him immensely," I looked at him with soft understanding but conviction, "I cannot keep secrets from him."
"I understand, and I admire your candidness. Porthos is lucky to have a woman such as you watching over him." Smiling to himself, the general then squeezed at my hand. "Were I a man still in his prime, I would have been honoured to court you." A rosy flush fell upon me, retreating slightly at such a bold statement. "Forgive me if I have alarmed you, I only meant to compliment you, sweet girl."
"No, I only…" my flush increased drastically, "I am not used to such compliments. I am not…I know I am not a handsome woman, I cannot claim to possess any great beauty, or even a little, so such compliments are not worthy of me." This time when the general's expression flickered it was not with guilt, but a sense of bewilderment. He even sat himself up a little, propping himself onto his elbows as I hastened to help him, not wanting the general to over exert himself. Once he was settled, however, General de Foix took hold of my hand once more and held it firmly, holding me near to him so that he could brush my face tenderly.
"You underestimate your own desirability, my lady," murmuring richly, I found myself utterly entranced by the words he was spoke, as if he were weaving a spell over me. "Any man would be a fool not to recognise your intrinsic qualities and equate them to the fullness of your worth. The beauty rests within your very soul, and that transcends any physical beauty possessed by another woman." Without warning an overflow of tears arose, stinging my eyes so I blinked against them. The general brushed one of them away until his fingers glistened with dampness. "I do not mean to upset you."
"Your words are too kind, general, and beautiful to hear." Sniffing softly, I withdrew a handkerchief to touch at my face and dry my cheeks. "I am honoured to receive them."
"I only speak the truth, sweet girl." Unable to help myself, I looked away with a smile. Releasing a shuddering breath, the general slumped against his pillows so I hurriedly made to tend to him, realising that our conversation had rapidly tired him. "As for my conscience…I shall have to take my secrets to my grave."
"If it will bring you comfort, then I can fetch a priest for you. Whatever confessions you wish to make will be held in the strictest confidence. Make your peace, general, and you shall feel your spirits lift for it." Nodding in agreement, General de Foix accepted the offer of a priest. I fetched one immediately, bringing the Father directly to the general's room and gave them their privacy for the general to make his confessions. I did not move from the outside of the door, guarding it intently until they were done.
The priest left after giving me a blessing for being dedicated to my task, assuring me that God rewarded those who lived in the service of others. Once he was away, I returned to the general, closing the door behind me where immediately I caught the scent of death in the air. His breathing was laboured, wheezing softly as his body trembled from fever. "General?" Calling softly, I made to retreat when his eyes opened.
"Sweet girl, please," he reached for the chair at his bedside, so I quickly took it, reaching to test his brow. "I am not long for this world."
"Nonsense, sir. You will live for many years yet to come, I am sure." He wheezed with a laugh.
"It is a bad thing to lie to a dying man," this I could not deny, so I simply offered him an expression of kindness and returned to sponging his brow. "My sister, Lucie. After I am gone, she will have no one left to care for her."
"Your sister is a strong, vibrant woman, general," I reasoned gently, "she will undoubtedly manage to care for herself."
"Mayhap you are right," he agreed, smiling fondly as his thoughts dwelled upon his beloved sister. "We are to return to our own province, as soon as possible." My burrow furrowed deeply.
"I cannot recommend such a course of action, sir, your body…you still need time to recover."
"You are a clever woman, Madeleine. We both know that I am never going to improve, I am only growing weaker." Taking up my hand, the general drew it towards him to place a fevered kiss upon it. "I am grateful for your care, but I wish to die in my own home and set my affairs in order. I must ensure that my sister will be provided for, as well as other matters which require my attention…if I do not go now, then I shall never make it at all." Although I knew that such a journey would only push his body beyond its limits, I understood the need and want to return home. It had been twenty years since he had returned home.
"Then I can only wish you godspeed, General de Foix. My prayers will be with you."
"Thank you, sweet girl. Thank you…" fading into slumber, I remained with the general until I was certain my absence would not disturb him. Then I made him as comfortable as I could make him, sponging away the sweat and leaving a cold cloth upon his brow. I left him to rest, bringing word to Treville of his condition and mentioned his intention to leave soon. A pained look crossed his face.
"It is his decision, albeit a foolish one in my opinion." Hearing the grief from my beloved captain, I placed my hand upon his arm and squeezed firmly to offer him comfort. Nodding his head in acknowledgement, he patted my hand before letting me go, stating that I had spent too much of my precious time tending to others and that I should have the rest of the evening to myself. Agreeing that perhaps a drink was in order, I kissed his cheek quickly and chastely, knowing that he was already grieving the loss of a friend even as he still breathed. Letting him know that he could call upon me any time he had need, I made to leave.
Before I reached the door, however, I paused. "Captain?" Turning myself to look back upon him, Treville raised his head. "General de Foix indicated that he knew Porthos in some manner. How is that possible? Do you have any idea?" I was not certain of what to expect, but I observed Treville closely. What I discovered was a brief flash of alarm, a harrowing glimpse of guilt before it all swiftly vanished.
"I couldn't say, little one." For a moment, I lingered in the doorway. The captain was many good things. A good liar was not one of them. Out of love and respect, I did not force the issue and chose to let it rest for the time being. With a small smile and a quick incline of my head, I left him to his solitude. Whatever secrets Treville and the general were keeping seemed to concern Porthos in some manner. I was afraid to ask, but just as afraid to know the truth, for I possessed an instinctual feeling that whatever the truth, a dark cloud would descend upon us, and Porthos was at its core.
Perhaps it was best that I remained ignorant. For now at least. Whatever secrets the general kept, he took them with him when he left the garrison with his sister, Lucie. They bade us a grateful farewell, and Lucie kissed my cheeks as I wished her well. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes red from weeping, but she smiled all the same. "For all you have done for my brother and I, you have our eternal thanks," she murmured as she embraced me.
"It was a collective effort, dear Lucie, I cannot claim the credit at all." With a nod, Lucie smiled towards d'Artagnan before embracing me one final time. We saw them off with an escort of men, General de Foix laid within a canopied wagon so that he could remain laid outright. There had been a little improvement in his fever, but otherwise, I expected the journey would sap the last of his strength. Then, it would only be a matter of time before he finally succumbed to his wounds. We watched them leave, knowing that it would be the last time we ever laid eyes upon General de Foix in this mortal plain.