Happy Easter to you all.

This chapter just kept getting longer and longer and was over 4000 words unfinished so I decided to break it in two and have part one here for you. Apologies as always if any errors have crept through, especially as I have been messing about with it.

In this chapter, there is trouble in the yard.

CHAPTER 74

TREVILLE

Two days until Bircann's trial begins and I am sitting at my desk reading through the latest version of Athos' testimony. He has worked on it a little every day and the time he has been able to wield a pen has likewise extended with each attempt. Also improved is his penmanship as his control over the quill has rallied so that I can once again recognise the hand responsible.

The contents of his statement, though, are disappointing in that his memory remains very limited. Of his capture, there is nothing. Porthos, Aramis and I have taken turns to sit with him, taking turns to prompt a new memory, but we have been unsuccessful thus far. He cannot remember where he was taken, or how. All that is uppermost in his mind – and uncomfortably so – are details surrounding the conditions of the pit and we have swiftly learned not to make him dwell on those because it clearly distresses him. He has remained very factual, commenting only upon the extreme cold, his rations, isolation and the darkness. Any efforts to press him to be more personal, to explore how he felt during that time, have been met by a rigid refusal and an emerging panic suppressed by anger.

The two other Musketeers in the infirmary were moved without argument to the side rooms – just as I anticipated - and Athos was returned to the main room for that night. Aramis was relieved to report that the agitated pacing ceased as quickly as it had begun. He also very smugly related that Athos had resorted to using one of the crutches to aid his walking and after increasing the laps of the infirmary's main room, he began the arduous task of circumnavigating the yard.

The first time, four days ago, did not go well. He was sitting on the bench in the sunshine when he decided to tackle the distance, but he only managed half of it before cutting across the yard to collapse tiredly on the bench. The times of his subsequent meanderings were carefully selected to occur when there was no-one else about. Any risk of the occasional witness, given his lack of speed, and he would disappear back within the comparative safety of the infirmary, only to reappear at the first opportunity to continue with his exercise. The man's dogged determination to be stronger and more mobile in time for the trial is both commendable and disturbing, and I know Aramis is very concerned that he is pushing himself too much. I don't want him to collapse before the trial or suffer a setback afterwards, and we have no way of knowing in advance what effects seeing Bircann or being in the courtroom will have upon him.

All this is going through my mind when I am suddenly aware that the sounds in the yard below have changed. There is more shouting, not in anger but what? Has something happened? Is it a warning? I am just pushing back my chair to go and investigate when I hear boots running along the balcony outside my office. A fist wraps urgently on the door at the same time as it is thrown open.

"Captain, you'd better come quickly." It's Laval and, message delivered, he's gone before I have a chance to ask him what the matter is.

As I hasten to the stairs, I glance over the balustrade to the yard below and see the reason for the commotion.

Athos is encircled by a group of fellow Musketeers near the archway that leads out into the street. They try in turns to approach him, but he is wielding his crutch like a weapon as he watches them all, suspicion and anger oozing from every pore. Some are beseeching him to lower the crutch, others offer him help but one gratingly familiar voice is taunting him.

"What's the matter, Athos? It's not like you to have nothing to say for yourself. Has something got your tongue? The peace and quiet round here have been bliss without you for the past few weeks," Delacroix jeers. At least some of the others admonish him and order him to keep quiet.

I hurry down the stairs and stride across the yard. Some of them see me approaching and pause whatever it is they are doing; I haven't quite worked out what that is. Delacroix has his back to me though and I catch him unawares. With my hand on his shoulder, I swing him round to face me. His face contorts and he's about to let loose a torrent of invective when he sees that it is me and checks himself.

"Get out of here," I order and, when he opens his mouth to object or to offer a defence, I don't give him the chance. "Now!"

As he slinks away, a couple of his friends drift away with him.

"Report," I snap, expecting that someone will tell me exactly what is happening.

Athos is still slowly circling, the crutch a poor substitute for his sword, which is a blessing as I'd hate to deal with the aftermath if he chose to run through one of his colleagues. From the way the crutch is wavering in his grasp, I can see that its weight is becoming too much. He stands there, breathing hard, his face dark with fury and he looks wild, even with his close-cropped hair and beard which, for some reason, are not growing as quickly as we anticipated. His voluminous linen shirt is untucked and slipping down one shoulder, whilst his feet are bare.

Roche speaks up. "Laval and I were on duty at the entrance when Athos approached, intent upon leaving the garrison. We didn't think he ought to be doing that so we tried to stop him, but he didn't take it too kindly. Most of the others were helping us as he's not listening to anything we say. We didn't want to hurt him."

I nod in acknowledgement of the account and step forward several paces into the circle, my hands spread wide so that Athos can see that I am not holding anything that might be construed as a threat. His eyes are fixed on me and, worryingly, there is no sign of recognition in them.

"Athos," I say, smiling and keeping my voice deliberately light so I hope I look reassuring. "What are you trying to do?"

His eyes flit from me to the archway.

"You want to go outside the garrison? For a walk?" I ask, conscious of the gathered men watching our exchange with curiosity.

The single nod affirms his purpose and then he glowers at Roche who had prevented him from going.

"Then by all means go for your walk. We will not stop you for you are not a prisoner here in the garrison." I add that last comment because I am not sure how his mind is perceiving many things right now and I want to allay any of his fears that I can.

"I wonder if you will allow your Captain to accompany you though?" I continue, deliberately identifying myself in case he still does not know me since we are outside the confines of the infirmary. "I have been pouring over documents all morning and would appreciate a little exercise, especially as it is such a nice day."

There is a pause as he deliberates but then he gives another nod and visibly relaxes, the crutch turned in his grip and deployed as a support for him once more.

I smile broadly. "Then we will set off together, but you will need some boots." At that, he glances down in puzzlement at his feet as though he had not realised that he was minus his footwear.

"Laval," I say quietly, my eyes never leaving Athos, "please go to my office and collect my weapons belt, hat and coat." He goes immediately to do my bidding, and I see that my substitute lieutenant has also arrived. "Claude, Athos' boots, doublet and a hat are in the infirmary."

"Getting' then now," he responds and moves off.

"Gentlemen, there is nothing to be seen here. As you were. Laval, Roche, thank you for your prompt action. Athos, take a seat and rest yourself whilst you wait for your boots."

As the other Musketeers return to their business, Roche moves closer to me so that he can ask the question I have long been expecting and dreading.

"Captain, why did Athos not answer us?"

We both cast surreptitious glances at the subject of our conversation as he obediently shuffles back to the bench outside the infirmary and sits down. I take a deep breath for I can retain the 'secret' no longer. The truth will come out in two days at the trial anyway for there will have to be an explanation as to why I am reading his testimony aloud.

"After his horrendous experience, Athos does not currently speak, but we are sure that it is only temporary as he continues to recover."

I have told the truth but to me, there is a wealth of difference between 'does not' and 'cannot' speak, the former being somehow more appropriate.

Roche looks serious. "I am sorry to hear it. The men, understandably, have been talking about him since he was rescued, and we cannot begin to think what it must have been like for him in that pit. Many of us have speculated on whether we would have come out of the situation as well as he did. We know it has been very rough for him, and we all wish him well, however long it takes, because we want him back working with us as soon as he is able."

"I will make sure that I inform him of that and thank you." I give a wry grin. "Perhaps not all of the men are so concerned with his welfare though."

Roche huffs his disapproval. "Don't take any notice of Delacroix, Sir; we don't. He was out of order with what he said to Athos back then; he always is but we don't let him get away with it if we hear him. He's a nasty, jealous individual and we all ignore him as much as possible. The men have got the measure of him, Captain, don't you worry, and we'll all look out for Athos when he's out and about."

Not for the first time I thank God I lead such men as Laval and Roche, that the likes of Delacroix are few and far between.

"I appreciate that. That knowledge will give Aramis and Porthos some comfort too."

"It's been the worst for them in recent weeks but now, with Athos making such progress, it must be reassuring for them," Roche continues, and we watch as Claude, emerging from the infirmary, stops by the bench and helps Athos dress properly. Laval has returned and I buckle on my weapons belt, happier now that I have the means to protect us both when we leave the garrison – not that I think we'll need it. Athos might be determined to swing the crutch like a club, but I do not think there would be much force behind a blow should the need arise.