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The Musketeers head off to arrest Bircann. With surprise on their side, the plan should work, shouldn't it?

35 Days earlier

ARAMIS

The deep grey of early dawn is lifting, the day likely to be overcast but dry at least. I'm at the front of a line of seven other Musketeers, the only person ahead of me being the Captain, who is peering around the side of the building where we have secreted ourselves. The object of his scrutiny is the back and side of another building diagonally across the road from our position. We're at a crossroads outside the northwest corner of the Place Royale, a large square bordered on four sides by mansions designed for France's wealthy nobility and where Bircann has taken up temporary residence.

I call to mind what I have been told about it for in comparison with much of the city, it is fairly new in construction, having been the inspiration of the present King's father, Henri IV. He had many ideas for the development of Paris but, sadly, never saw this particular one to completion. Five years into the work, he was assassinated. Only two years after that, the Square was inaugurated with a huge carrousel and I bet that was a site to behold. The celebration was not just for the building, but also for the engagement of Louis to Anne of Austria. Apparently, she even resided there for a short while prior to their marriage.

A hand rests on my right shoulder, breaking into my reverie and I turn, smiling. Hand on the hilt of his rapier, steadying it to prevent any unwanted sound, Athos silently slides past me and into the gap I make for him behind the Captain. My friend has been jogging around the narrow side streets to ensure that all is as arranged and he has not even deigned to break into a sweat, nor is he short of breath.

"Are the men in position?" Tréville asks, his words the merest whisper.

Beside me, Athos nods. "Ready and waiting for the church bell."

That is the signal for all to move and he gestures towards the ornate façade of the mansion that is the object of our mission. All conceivable exits are covered by the Musketeers. "Anything?"

"Nothing; no sign of movement anywhere here at the front, but no doubt the servants are up and about by now."

"Claude, Porthos and the men there know what to do," Athos reassures him.

I watch them both, convinced that something more is going on than either of them has said. The Captain was in a foul mood when he returned from the palace earlier yesterday and Athos was … well, I can only describe it as 'strange' after he had been with Tréville. Then the pair of them went off to the palace for hours before returning and going straight up to the office again.

Athos is a very private man – Porthos and I have known it from the beginning – and he can be damned infuriating when he refuses to talk, but we have learned not to push him and to bide our time. Mind you, sometimes we have to wait a very long time. All he said was that Bircann had been in league with Marie de Medici once before when she had sought to take the throne back after her period as regent; this was prior to the three of us being Musketeers, a time before the regiment even existed. I wonder if it was one of the reasons Louis created us in the first place. Anyway, all Athos would tell the two of us was that the Captain had been Bircann's prisoner for a while. That was it, nothing more.

The church bells start ringing the hour and I feel Athos stiffen beside me. It is the signal and I straighten up, pushing away from the wall where I had been leaning just as Tréville motions with his hand.

We all move forward, men running across an open space, keeping low and making very little noise. The effect is eerie. Two citizens, legitimately about their business, round a corner to our left, see us and hurriedly disappear again, alarm evident on their faces, but we do not stop until we reach the front door.

Two men, who have already been selected for their size and strength, throw themselves at it. It weakens the first time and the hinges groan, but Charvet and Gedeon collect themselves and do it again, the wood surrendering and splintering under their combined onslaught. As they stand back, breathing hard, the Captain and Athos surge forward and I am close on their heels, our swords drawn.

From the back of the building, I can hear men shouting, the clatter of booted feet and women screaming. Claude, Porthos and more men have successfully got into the mansion then and are making their way through rooms. Those of us who have just entered at the front divide with practiced ease and burst into other ground floor rooms before streaming up the grand staircase to reach the upper floors.

We reconvene in the marbled hallway on the ground floor minutes later.

Tréville's face is like thunder as he rushes back out of the front door and Athos pauses long enough to slap his hat against his thigh, the only evidence of his suppressed anger. We all follow the Captain and he is calling for the men who had remained outside in order to apprehend anyone who might attempt an escape, but they have nothing to report; apart from us, no-one has exited the mansion.

"Bircann's gone!" Tréville spits out. "He knew we were coming for him; he was warned."

Athos nods. "The sound we heard in Richelieu's office last night."

"It has to be. Let's hope that the Cardinal is more successful with the King's mother." He looks around him at the men who are gathering in the square, ignoring the faces that have appeared at the windows and doors of nearby properties. There are plenty of witnesses to our actions now.

"Back to the horses," he calls out. "We're going after him."

We run to our mounts who are tethered down a side road and out of sight.

"Where are we going?" I ask, as I settle into my saddle.

Tréville opens his mouth to answer, but it is Athos who speaks first.

"The north gate. Bircann probably left here as soon as he received his warning, but he could not have left the city. He would have concealed himself close to the city gate so that he could make good his escape as soon as it opened which was not too long ago. He will not be too far ahead of us." He glances towards the Captain. "Am I right?"

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, I see the glimmer of a smile on Tréville's face.

"Exactly my thinking. Bircann's estate is north-west of the city, less than two hours' ride away, but he would be a fool to remain there. He will probably go on to the coast and take ship. I'll send men to the other gates. They have his description just in case he decides to take another route to confuse us." He spurs his horse on and calls back over his shoulder. "Then we need to find out who is missing part of an expensive embroidered coat."

I frown at Athos, not understanding the comment at all.

"Long story," he answers infuriatingly as he rides away from me.