Come morning I spoiled the girls with fresh bread still warm from baking. With it came pots of butter and honey, jugs of milk, nuts and fruits, and enough porridge to satisfy half the regiment. I was determined to feed them up, serving them their breakfast and depositing plates of eggs, bacon and sausages with cooked tomatoes, mushrooms and everything I could possibly think of that might tickle their fancy. Their eyes grew as wide as saucers, then they dove into the feast I spread before them.
They were smiling, the courtyard filled with the chimes of their laughter as I brought out the last treat, hot oatcakes with honey and cinnamon, before I brushed at Camille's pretty pale blonde hair, beaming upon them all before leaving them to eat in peace without me hovering over them. I ascended to the balcony where Treville and the others stood, the captain smiling contentedly to see the girls doing so well. "I must confess, I have pilfered your pantry, captain," I expressed laughingly as I joined them, looking over the balcony to the girls. It warmed the heart to see them looking so carefree. "I shall replace everything, I promise."
"No need, they looked to be in need of a decent meal." Treville dismissed such concerns as unimportant, squeezing my arm before turning aside. "I'll see they're all escorted home to their parents." I was glad of it, and with one final glance to the girls, I followed after the captain, falling into step beside my brother as we all went with him.
"There's enough evidence against Levesque to press charges," my brother began, his tone collected but his words betraying his eagerness to see Levesque brought to justice. "Kidnapping, false imprisonment…"
"Slavery," muttering under my breath, Athos looked at me quickly, catching the word so I made a face at him. "What? It is practically exactly what they were doing, selling those girls off." Of course, there were grey areas to such a claim, and it might not hold in court, but I would be more than content to see those charges thrown at Levesque. If they stuck, then he and his wife would be shipped off to the colonies and forced to live a life of serfs. It was no less than they deserved.
"No one would believe Belgard was involved."
"We have no evidence he is," arguing against the captain, d'Artagnan reminded us that Camille had made no mention of Belgard and had not even recognised his name. "Camille only ever saw Eleanor and Levesque."
"Perhaps Levesque is running the show right under Belgard's nose?"
"Or he simply knew to keep his involvement discreet for just such purposes," replying to Aramis, we all halted once Treville had reached his desk, assuming his proper position even though it had been stripped away from him. He was still our captain in all but name, and it always reassured me to see him behind his desk in the captain's office.
"If you knew Belgard like I do, you might not be so charitable." The suggestion curdled my blood, thinking of Porthos and how he was alone with his father. I did not like this situation at all.
"Could Porthos be in danger?"
"If he becomes a threat to Belgard…then yes. It is possible," Treville admitted, quickening my pulse as I took a half step forwards. "I have not yet told you, but Porthos came to see me yesterday, asking questions." A deep rooted guilt passed over the captain's expression as he opened one of his drawers at the desk then drew out a leather arm guard which I immediately recognised. It belonged to Porthos. "Belgard has twisted the truth and turned Porthos' head with false explanations. He resigned his post because he believed he was given his commission because of my guilty conscience."
"That is pure nonsense!" Exclaiming a little louder than I intended, I blushed a little but proceeded regardless. "Porthos has more than proved he has earned the right to wear that crest, and I do not believe for one moment that you would ever commission a man to wear the uniform who was not worthy or deserving of it." I gestured to d'Artagnan. "Just look at how long you made d'Artagnan wait to prove himself and earn his own place here. What poison has Belgard been uttering?" Looking gratified for my fiery confidence in the captain's character, he looked to me fondly.
"Thank you, little one." Glancing to the others, I lifted my chin before turning upon my heel. "Where are you going?" Stopping after I had flung open the door, I looked back when I was halfway through it, alight with determination and resolved to act before it was too late.
"To Porthos, to knock some sense into his thick skull." With a flare of my skirts, I strode away where I heard Aramis's laughter follow. I did not wait for them. I went to the girls and told them that I was required elsewhere, but they would be safe here. Introducing them to several musketeers who would be watching over them until we could return, I then went to arm myself once more. I carried my sword and stiletto dagger, the small handheld crossbow with new bolts fashioned by the famous craftsmen Monsieur Boucher. After the business with the assassins, my brother had commissioned him to make improvements to my armaments, even adding a new full-sized crossbow to my collection. Like Thomas's, my collection was beginning to grow. Once I was armed, I swung my cloak around my shoulders and even found a hat similar to that my brother and Aramis wore, two handsome feathers tucked into the band.
Smirking to myself, I settled the hat atop my head then tugged upon my gloves, deeming myself ready before swinging myself up into the saddle of the horse I had requested. When the others followed me down, their horses already requested, my brother chuckled upon seeing me. "Don't you look quite the musketeer?" He teased me, so I reached for the pendent around my neck, allowing it to flash in the sun before I kissed the crest.
"Always in my heart," I vowed, flashing a bright smile before urging my horse forwards. They rushed to mount their own steeds, clattering after me as I led the way, cloak rippling behind me as I masterfully guided my horse out of the city and towards the Belgard estate. Aramis quickly moved to ride apace with me, and together we rode to Porthos' aid, praying that he was not already in danger and that we would reach him in time. We rode in silence, too daunted to speak and eager to make haste.
When I first looked upon the grand mansion which belonged to the Marquis de Belgard, I could not help but think it a beautiful looking place. There was fresh greenery all around and the building itself looked as if it had stood a long while and weathered all elements, yet retained its noble presence. It was a shame its handsomeness was marred by the sinister schemes of Levesque and Eleanor, and possibly Belgard too. Once we were close enough, I pulled my horse to a halt then swung my leg over to drop down, not waiting for one of the men to assist me.
Whilst the men all drew their firearms, I took out my little crossbow. I wish I had had the time to go back for my hunting bow, or the larger crossbow, but I had not wanted to delay our departure. The new bolts, however, were made by Boucher, and therefore they were stronger than the previous rounds I possessed. The metal was light and twisted at the tip, a small divot before the head became the shaft. These would make far more damage than simple steel capped bolts. They satisfied my need, and so as we all moved towards the door, I waited behind my brother's shoulder as we listened, hearing only the eerie quiet of the estate until an unfamiliar voice rose from within the courtyard.
"Porthos has discovered your lies and deception, Levesque. You're finished here." I listened intently, one hand resting against my brother's back as we all waited, not wanting to rush in and startle someone into shooting wildly. The faint sound of someone chuckling mockingly drifted towards us.
"Don't you ever grow tired of your games?" The voices were now so low that I could no longer hear them distinctly, only the faint murmur which I strained to hear. The answer came from the first speaker, whom I presumed to be Belgard from what I had heard already, though this was only an educated guess. "I told you," this voice I heard more distinctly, for it was nearer, a little louder and accented in such a manner that naturally drew the ear. "He's finally gone mad."
"I knew there was something wrong with this place, the moment I stepped into it." My pulse leaped when I heard Porthos, grateful to hear him for it told me that he was yet unharmed. We had arrived in time.
"The only thing that's wrong is you being here, but we can soon set that right." Before the words could be fully understood in my mind, a gunshot burst into life with a thunderous clap and echo. My entire body lurched, jolting forwards to rush into the courtyard with the only thought of Porthos streaking through me. Athos jumped to catch me, carefully holding his pistols as not to set one off but barred my way to the door with a low whisper, telling me to wait, that I could not rush in blindly. I did not care, not when Porthos could have been shot.
"Did you think I wouldn't guess what you wanted, Levesque?" The words of whom I had guessed to be Belgard stayed my haste, however, halting my struggle against Athos as the icy flow of dread abated within. "This is a family concern. You think I'd simply hand it over to an interloper?" Was this to mean that Porthos was alright? "My son is going to succeed me, now." Oh praise God…it could not have been Porthos who had been shot. The air rushed from my lungs and Athos loosened his grip upon me.
"What have you done?" A woman spoke, though it was not entirely familiar I reasoned that it could only be Eleanor. "You're insane!" With a breath, her voice cried out more firmly, commanding someone I could not see. "Well, what are you waiting for? Shoot them! Shoot them!" Bursting free of my brother's arms altogether, I rushed through the door before anyone could stop me.
My crossbow raised as my other hand went to my knife, pulling it free with a smooth tug so that when I squeezed the trigger the dark metal bolt flew forwards with speed and effortless accuracy as I tossed up the dagger, caught it by the blade then threw it. Both projectiles struck their mark, two armed guards who had their pistols trained upon Porthos. Behind me I heard someone fire their own weapon, but I was still rushing forwards. "Porthos!" I cried out his name, and the commotion was enough to confuse and distract everyone into a chaotic panic.
Diving behind the thick stone pillars of the archway, I reloaded the crossbow and fired it a second time as Porthos ducked down, bullets now firing in every direction. There was a girl with him, someone who seemed completely out of place amidst such turmoil. Aramis and d'Artagnan swiftly joined me and together, we covered Porthos and the girl so that they could run to safety, however I also noticed another man making a bid for freedom. He had long, greying hair and a beard so thick it hid half of his face from clear distinction. He looked unkempt, but unafraid of the raging bullets flying through the air. Belgard.
He arrived first, not even thinking to help or protect his son, but instead ran past us and up a flight of stairs to return to the house, fleeing without pause. In that moment, I knew I could never like the man, and found him lacking in anything comparable to the captain's character. I was disappointed, and sad for Porthos to be burdened with such a father, but at least Porthos seemed to be utterly unlike his sire, for he did not run so easily. If at all. "Here! Here, bring her here!" Shouting over the noise, I stretched out my hand as Porthos raced towards us, still shielding the girl.
The moment she was within reach I pulled her around the pillar and into the safety of our protection, thick stone serving as her shield as she immediately dropped to the ground and sobbed in terror. I looked her over once, searching for blood or injury, before turning to Porthos. Immediately I caught his smile, widespread and warm, whilst his gaze seemingly filled me to the very core with everything good and wonderful he possessed. "Nice hat," flicking his hand at the brim of my hat, I could not suppress my laugh. The moment was brief, but it was enough.
Thereafter his face grew stoic and severe, turning to look to where his father had run. "Go," I urged, knowing that he would not rest easy until he confronted his father. "We will cover you. Go!" Glancing to d'Artagnan who nodded in agreement, I took his second pistol and waited for the lull in fire before stepping out together. We fired back at Eleanor's men, allowing Porthos to rush past us after his father. The moment he was clear, d'Artagnan pulled me back and I rushed to the girl, framing her face to push back her hair and dry her tears. "Hush, hush precious, everything is alright. You are safe now, nothing will harm you," comforting her, I wrapped my arms around her to hold her in my embrace.
At that moment Treville rushed inside and immediately followed after Porthos. My heart clenched in fear, but I had to trust in the captain. Trust in Porthos. No matter what, I knew that they would arrive through this safely. The captain was a good man, and whatever he had done in the past I trusted that he would have had his reasons and would never have intentionally caused Porthos or his mother harm, unless to protect them from something all the more dangerous. Or someone.
Squeezing the girl before releasing her, I made to help keep the mercenary guards at bay, only to see the rustle of green skirts vanishing through another door across the courtyard, the bright copper coils of Eleanor Levesque vanishing from sight. Rage tore through me like a wild animal. Oh no, no I do not think so. I acted upon impulse, reckless as it was. I ran into the open, barely hearing the horrified shouts of the men behind me. I ducked immediately into the colonnade, sprinting as swiftly as my legs would carry me as I shot the man in front of me before he could even turn to face me.
When he fell, I swept up his fallen pistol and shot another guard, not even looking to aim as I continued to run after Eleanor to keep her from escaping. She would not get away with this. I had promised Camille that nothing like this would happen again to other girls like her, and to fulfil my promise, Eleanor had to be brought to justice. A bullet struck the wall to my left, dust and grit bursting just behind my head which made me instinctively duck, but then I was free. Powering through the door, I kicked it closed behind me then dropped the latch, barring anyone from following and it was a good thing too, for a mercenary rammed his shoulder against it which made the entire thing shudder.
Dragging air into my lungs, I allowed myself a moment to recompose myself, checking both pistols to see that they were still loaded before taking after Eleanor. I ran her down through the house, listening as her shoes clattered against the unwashed, dusty floorboards of the mansion, telling me exactly where she was and how far. I gained on her, pace by pace, following her until finally I entered what looked to be her personal bedchamber. I caught her frantically thrusting fists of jewelled necklaces and bracelets into a velvet purse before tossing it into a small vanity box.
She trembled from head to toe, most likely from rage. Her cheeks were slashes of red almost the same shade as her hair, muttering under her breath as she dragged her hand across the surface to pool all the coins she could hold into her palm and tip those into the purse also. Several clattered to the floor as I crept inside, slowly positioning myself to block the only exit before finally, I levelled a pistol at her. "You are finished, Madame Levesque." Announcing myself, Eleanor gasped and whirled around, eyes wide and staring as she saw me holding the pistol upon her. "Surrender yourself. The game is over."
"Nothing is over, you cannot touch me! I am the daughter of a marquis, I am…"
"And I am the Comtesse de la Fère, Lady in Waiting in the court of Louis the Thirteenth, and agent of Her Majesty Queen Anne of France," cutting her off as Eleanor had begun to descend into a fit of outrage, she blinked at me in astonishment. "Oh, I do apologise. I thought we were perhaps bandying our titles at one another to see whose was most impressive." Allowing myself a smirk of satisfaction, I tilted back my hat so that she could look upon my face. "Now, in the name of the queen, I am arresting you for crimes against the state. I suggest you come quietly." Surrender did not seem to exist in Eleanor's vocabulary.
I saw the pulse of her rage, seemingly ready to scream at me as her chest heaved. She stared at me in utter disbelief, but refused to give in so readily. The moment her hand jumped towards a weapon, my eye was already following the movement. Shifting my pistol slightly, I squeezed the trigger and fired upon her, the bullet striking the wall behind her as the bullet passed inches from her head. A short, sharp scream, and she froze in place. "Do not think I will not shoot you. I am not as merciful as the musketeers, not when it comes to people like you." Pouring all the disgust and loathing I possessed into the emphasis, I jerked the pistol to the side. "Now move."
Frightened by my cold, callous tone and clear willingness to save myself the trouble of managing her by simply ending her life, Eleanor obeyed. Keeping the gun trained upon her, I had her walk in front of me, keeping her under my control until we had returned to the courtyard where all was quiet. Those who had not fallen had fled, leaving Eleanor utterly alone. "My father…" she began to say, but then cleared her throat and drew back her shoulders. "My father. Where is he?"
"Do not worry, you will be seeing him very soon. That is, if you wish to confess to your crimes and tell me exactly how he was involved," laying the barrel of my pistol against her neck, Eleanor gasped softly as she strained to look upon it, tilting her head as I stood like a menacing shadow at her shoulder. "If you are amenable and speak the truth, then perhaps a more comfortable arrangement can be made for you. Otherwise, I expect it will be the gallows for you. For a light frame such as yours, I expect it would take some time before the rope strangles you into a corpse." Such words were not my usual take, but this vile woman was everything I despised. In some ways, I hated her more than Milady.
Milady was just as selfish, just as willing to kill and take what she wanted, but what Eleanor had done to those poor girls and many more before them, no doubt, was something far fouler and cruel. She ripped away their innocence, stole them from their homes and purposefully delivered them into lives of misery and suffering. Some of those girls might still be alive, might still be suffering, and I was determined to find them. Yes. I despised this woman. More than anything in the world, even when she shared blood with the man I loved most.
I bound her hands to keep her from running, keeping her under my watchful eye as I wondered what to do about Belgard. We had no evidence as of yet that he had been involved, but I did not wish to leave him and allow him the chance to run. As the others began to clean up a little of the mess, dragging the bodies of the fallen to lay them out and cover them before the crows could feast upon them, I pulled Eleanor along with me, grasping her unyieldingly by the arm and tossed her into one of the very same rooms where she had kept those girls. "You can stay in here for now. I expect after a night or two, you might sympathise more with the girls you chained in here like dogs," glaring down at her as she whimpered, straw rustling as she scrambled to stand, I felt no pang of compassion or regret. "Be grateful I do not have you whipped like your husband did them." Before she could scream in defiance, I slammed the door and locked her within.
She hammered her fists against the wood, screeching like a harpy to be released and cursing me in every manner she knew. I paid no attention to her tantrum, and instead went to Treville and helped him do the same with Belgard. This time I was able to look upon him clearly, and once more I felt the distinct lack of anything inspiring about him. He was as Aramis had described him. A recluse of a man who now had nothing left to his name. No honour. No family. Nothing. He I almost pitied, but I stifled the notion as I pointedly held up my weapon. "We should lock him up too, until the guards can fetch him." I said to Treville, who had been watching him until now. "He must answer for any part in this he played."
"I had nothing to do with my daughter's scheme," Belgard spoke, and I noticed that he was favouring his hand. "You have no right to confine me." Regarding him plainly as Treville set a wary hand upon my shoulder, Belgard too regarded us. "Your daughter, Treville? She has your bearing."
"As good as," a sheer delight erupted within, and my mouth twitched in happiness to hear Treville so openly claim me as good as a daughter to him as one of his own flesh and blood, as well as the fact that a stranger thought that I possessed the captain's bearing. It was the highest praise I could have wanted. "She is right, Belgard. Until we get to the truth, you must be contained. This time, you will not easily escape justice." A sharp look of anger and spite was turned upon Treville, his hand tightening upon my shoulder.
"You think you have won, but my son…"
"Is a better man than you shall ever be, and better still for not having grown under your shallow contempt and unscrupulous, misguided morals." Speaking over him, I pulled away from Treville to approach Belgard, standing so that I faced him fully with a flare of indignation. "Any man would be blessed to have a son such as Porthos, but you do not appreciate the quality of his character, nor the wealth of his goodness. Shame upon you, Marquis de Belgard. You are not worthy to call yourself a man…or a father." Reprimanding him the only way I knew how without laying a hand upon him, I unleashed the lashing of my tongue upon him.
Belgard looked startled, so astonished that such a petite figured woman would so zealously scold him that he remained silent throughout. Then he leaned a little closer, his brow drawing together as he studied my face before a light of recognition arose. "If I am not mistaken, you are the Lady Madeleine." Blinking, I was momentarily distracted by my own surprise at how Belgard knew my name. "Porthos spoke of you fondly. Clearly, his description of you was apt." There was nothing I wanted more than to pester Belgard into telling me all Porthos had said in relation to me, but I withheld the impulse and instead, levelled my pistol at his chest.
"It is time to go, marquis." Rather unexpectedly, Belgard made no further protest but complied with my instruction. As he moved forwards, making to pass me I halted him for a moment, touching my pistol to his back so that he would understand how seriously I was contemplating simply shooting him and being done with the trouble. "One question, before we go." It was the only question I could think of that would have any significant answer, and it burned against my mind. "Upon what day was Porthos born?" Belgard turned his head, craning his neck to look at me in surprise. For a moment, I feared he would not answer.
"The fourteenth day in April, in the year sixteen hundred and seven." Exhaling quietly, I carefully tucked away the information before tapping his shoulder with the pistol, signalling that he could continue. He went quietly, hesitating only when we emerged into the courtyard to look upon his son, Porthos, who pulled one of the last of the fallen mercenaries to align with the others then dropped their arms, dusting off his hands before looking up. A frosty exchange passed between father and son, so I hastened to end it by pushing Belgard in the back with the pistol to have him move on and enter another cell. Treville locked him inside, promising to watch over them both until the guards arrived which I promised to send to him promptly. The pull towards Porthos had me at first turning towards him, but then I heard the sniffles of the girl he had rescued. I looked to him, wishing I could speak to him all the sooner, but I felt obligated to comfort the girl, so I went to her instead.
She accepted my embrace and comfort, calm enough now to be able to tell me where she was from. It was not far from here, in fact on the way back to Paris, so I promised to bring her with me and take her home. Her eyes brightened, and I smiled upon her before using a handkerchief to dry her face then bade her keep it as a gift. The embroidered flowers and birds distracted her from her upset, gazing upon it with intrigue as I stroked back her hair then rose, thinking it would be best to set off sooner rather than later. I made to fetch my horse, but a word stayed me. "Madeleine." The breath caught in my throat, my entire body tensing for a moment before it naturally relaxed.
"Porthos." Speaking his name naturally softened my expression, and I sensed him come up behind me slowly, halting when his chest almost brushed against my back. I turned to face him, and immediately he tilted back my hat.
"It suits you, sweetheart," chuckling with mirth, I too laughed quietly as we stepped aside to speak together privately, but it seemed both he and I were content to simply look upon one another for quite some time. I enjoyed the feeling of his gaze settled upon me, the rich pull of his eyes commanding my attention as my hand found his.
"Did you find your answers?" I finally asked, whispering as not to break the serene sense that encompassed us. A flicker in his expression, like a crack in a glass, but then he relaxed and exhaled deeply.
"Yeah, I got my answers." I waited, arching an eyebrow to hear more. "My father…Belgard…he abandoned my mother and I, just like I thought all along. Only now, I know the reason why." Casting his gaze about him, looking at the walls of the mansion, his mouth turned into a grimace. "He was ashamed of us."
"Then he is not worthy of you," I answered simply, which seemed to surprise Porthos for he looked at me quickly. "And he is completely lacking in wits if he cannot comprehend your excellence, and a fool for abandoning a woman as beautiful and gentle as your mother." Porthos stared at me. Grasping his hand, I held it in earnest, hoping that he would believe me as I expressed my honest thoughts. "He does not see you, Porthos. Not like we do. Not the way I do…I…he does not see." For a while he was silent, but there was a gradual and constant shift in him, like snow melting before spring's warmth, and he gradually began to smile.
"How do you know my mother was beautiful? You never met her," this time I chuckled, and touched his face to brush my thumb against the corner of his mouth as the pleasant tickle of his beard graced against my palm.
"I know she was because I see her in you. She was the most handsome, sweetest, kind-hearted, wonderful woman this earth was ever graced with, and it is a true sorrow that I could not have met her before she passed. I would have loved her. I would have loved her as dearly as I…" stopping myself, I realised that I had allowed myself to forget my composure. Drawing back with a slight shame, I brought my hands back to my sides. "Forgive me, I was carried away for a moment." Collecting myself, I returned a calm look upon Porthos, but still feeling the rush of warmth whenever I stood in his presence. "But I mean every word. Please, do not linger in regret for someone who does not deserve you." Again, Porthos stood in silence. "At least I have discovered something for you." Looking a little intrigued, I tilted my hat playfully to Porthos. "Your birthday is the fourteenth of April." A harsh sound of air rushing from his chest tore free, almost as a laugh.
"I didn't even think to ask," he admitted, looking a little amazed as he finally knew his real birthday. Next time, I hoped we could celebrate it properly. For a moment Porthos looked forlorn, but then his mind seemed to clear and he looked at me with untold tenderness. "At least I've had someone congratulate me on my birthday before." For a moment I did not follow. "You. Everyday for a year you wished me happy returns, so at least now we know which of them was the right one."
"And I shall do so again every year, for the rest of our lives." I promised him, glad that he was overly distraught by his father's betrayal from what I could see. My fingers naturally moved towards his, brushing against them in a timid expression of affections before I drew them away. For some time, he seemed to reflect upon all we had said, allowing my attempts of comfort to settle into him as they consoled his thoughts and eased his mind. Where he might have felt disappointment in the truth, I hoped that I had at least given him some peace of mind.
All at once Porthos seemed to awaken, moving to take my face in his hands and bear himself so close that I had to lean back my head to look upon him, jolting at the sudden rush of movement that had propelled him forwards. "I'm almost there," he told me, though I was puzzled at first. "I've almost reached the answer, Madeleine. Just wait a little longer. I promise. I'll know the answer soon." This did not entirely resolve my confusion, but the trouble swiftly evaporated when Porthos whisked off my hat then ruffled my hair with such enthusiasm that I shrieked in protest and sprang to escape him. Then it became a game, me swatting at the sky to try and reclaim my hat whilst Porthos dangled it beyond my reach, laughing boisterously as he teased me, and despite my angered expression, I was blazing with sunlight within.