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*On the road to Paris*
The Musketeers were escorting the king's cousin, Princess Louise, to Paris where she would have her forthcoming marriage to the crown prince of Sweden blessed by the Archbishop Jacqueme. It was the hope of the monarchy that such a union would seal the alliance between their two countries.
It had been a long trip so far for the princess, having come from Mantua and still she had a long way to go. But she wanted to rest awhile and had the Musketeers stop her coach. Princess Louise found herself chatting to d’Artagnan during this small break. She quite liked the youngest of her Musketeer escort and found him quite charming to be with. “I haven’t seen the king since we were children.”
Athos chose to say something to that with a sardonic twist to his lips. “He’s barely changed.” Hearing Aramis’s soft snort, Athos smirked. Right now, the king had been acting like a child. Locking himself away in his rooms, plagued by fears that everyone was out to kill him. If he keeps acting out in this manner, his own Musketeers may want to do him a bodily injury.
As d’Artagnan went back to scanning the open road where they had stopped, Porthos joined him and couldn’t help teasing the whelp. “If ya ask me I think she’s sweet on ya, d’Artagnan.”
Rolling his eyes, d’Artagnan scoffed. “She’s a princess and engaged to be married,” he punched Porthos lightly in the arm. “Why would she bother with a lowly Musketeer like myself?”
“Because, d’Artagnan,” Aramis said as he came up behind the youngster, “she sees the greatness in you as we all do.” Then he sauntered away leaving the bewildered boy behind.
“I’ll never understand where any of you get that strange idea,” d’Artagnan glanced at Athos and saw an amused grin spread on his mentor’s face. “I already know your opinion,” he snorted. Then d’Artagnan’s attention was caught by a slight rustling sound in the fields. A bird flying out of it, clearly startled by something, put him on his guard. Sure enough, right after that they were ambushed as malandrins came charging at them out of those very fields.
All the Musketeers held their ground, including Princess Louise’s footman, Francesco. They prevailed, killing all the malandrins as they kept the princess safe from harm. Finding Spanish coins on them wasn’t a big surprise to any of them. Knowing that Spain would do anything from keeping such an alliance from happening. They decided to take Princess Louise straight to the garrison first before seeing the Archbishop and this way they could inform Treville what had transpired.
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Watching the proceedings as the Archbishop blessed Princess Louise’s womb and her marriage, the Musketeers were completely taken by surprise when, after she lost her balance standing up, something flew through the air going into the Archbishop’s throat, killing him instantly. When they ran over to the man of the cloth they saw that the projectile was a solid steel arrow.
Looking upward toward the balcony, d’Artagnan noticed movement and figured that was the assassin. He swiftly took off after him but ended up losing the man and was left with nothing in his hands but the cloak the assassin had worn.
After he came back, d’Artagnan and his friends all went up to the balcony where Aramis held the crossbow, the assassin left behind, in his arms. Aramis assessed how the murder took place and shook his head. “This was well planned,” he waved his hand. “Great advantage point, he would be unseen by most anyone” Aramis explained, “and an excellent escape route from here.”
“Mon dieu!” d’Artagnan exclaimed in dismay. “Comte Rochefort’s here.”
“Our day couldn’t get any worse,” Athos grimaced as he and the others all stared down at the comte with his entourage of Red Guards beside him.
“Outstanding work, Musketeers!” Rochefort called out. “A man of God slain under your very noses and you let him escape,” his disgust at their ineptitude quite evident in his tone.
When the Musketeers joined him downstairs, Athos made it a point to clear up a matter. “If the princess hadn’t slipped, she would be dead,” he stared into Rochefort’s cold gaze. “Princess Louise was the intended target.”
Appearing helpless, Princess Louise waited for the Musketeers next move. Aramis approached her first. “It won’t be safe to stay at the Archbishop’s place now. We’ll take you to the Louve. The palace is the safest place in France.”
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*Royal Palace*
“Where is the king?” d’Artagnan asked once they had the princess secured in one of the state rooms.
“I heard he is receiving no one, even his queen,” Athos whispered. “Ever since His Majesty, you and the others were nearly killed by Marmion, King Louis has been in hiding.”
“I’d be worried too but hidin’ ain’t gonna solve nothin’,” Porthos added.
“Well I feel sorry for Princess Louise,” d’Artagnan said offhand.
“Why?” Aramis stared at the pup, wondering what his young friend meant by that remark.
“She told her footman, Francesco, that this marriage was her death sentence.”
“I know how she feels,” Athos remarked quietly as he exchanged a long look with his protégé.
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Running into Constance later outside the rooms where he was guarding the princess, d’Artagnan noticed her split lip. “What happened? Who did this to you?” He considered himself a good friend of hers and wanted justice done.
“You know I haven’t been happy in my marriage to Bonacieux,” she couldn’t look d’Artagnan in the eyes. “I told him I decided to leave him,” she touched her lip. “He didn’t take it very well.”
“I’ll kill him for this!” d’Artagnan vowed as Constance grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
“No, leave it be. I'll be fine.” Constance looked around and noticed Princess Louise watching them. “You better go back to your duty.” As she watched the young man walk toward the princess, Constance worried about her own life.
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During the turn of events in regards to the attempted assassination of the princess, King Louis’s gift to her never got collected. Talking to Queen Anne, Comte Rochefort suggested d’Artagnan could go pick it up.
When word got to d’Artagnan, he seemed puzzled as he looked at his brothers. “I thought I was to guard Princess Louise until she departs.”
“She is safely ensconced within the palace walls,” Athos clapped d’Artagnan on the arm. “Go,” he urged gently. “You know we will not let anything happen to her.” Watching the younger man head out, Athos too wondered at Rochefort’s choice of errand boy.
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Having gotten royally kicked out of the palace by Rochefort, Milady was still fuming over everything that had happened to her recently. To top it all off, Athos had seen her humiliation in all its glory and even offered her charity which, of course, she refused. Chance would be a fine thing, she thought.
After she was nearly pushed out the doors, Milady walked down the streets and encountered something strange. She spotted someone that seemed out of place to her. As she continued to watch the man, he came out of a house and slipped away into the streets. Then she walked on feeling sorry for herself when she saw d’Artagnan arrive next. Was it a coincidence he tied his horse up in front of the very house that other man had just left from? Milady thought not.
Out of the corner of her eye, Milady noticed that same man again hiding from behind a building, training a pistol on d’Artagan’s back. Since falling out of favor with King Louis, Milady wasn’t feeling all that charitable toward her fellow man, or Musketeers either, but something made her shout out to d’Artagnan anyway. “D’ARTAGNAN! LOOK OUT!”
Whirling around as his name was called, d’Artagnan felt the impact of a musket ball pierce his flesh as he dropped to the ground writhing in pain, his senses leaving him as he lost consciousness.
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*Musketeer garrison*
Running to the garrison, Milady got word to the Musketeer Rene to inform Athos what had befallen d’Artagnan. Then she turned back around to lose herself among the common rabble of Paris.
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*Royal Palace*
After the inseparables were told what happened to their youngest, Athos knew they couldn’t leave Princess Louise unguarded and ordered Rene, Gaspard and Bernard to watch over her in their absence. He was still working on why Anne, of all people, was the one to let them know what had happened to their young one. Athos would dwell on that later for now he needed to be at d’Artagnan’s side.
Racing to their horses, the three soldiers were hailed by several other brothers who told them d’Artagnan had been taken to the garrison infirmary where Doctor Lemay was tending to the boy. So they immediately went straight over there and found Constance helping the doctor. They saw relief cross her face at their appearance as Constance waved them further into the room.
“How is he?” Athos’s concerned gaze went instantly to d’Artagnan’s slack features.
“Musketball went clean through his shoulder,” Doctor Lemay explained. “That young man was lucky.”
“I wouldn’t call it luck to get shot,” Porthos gave the doctor a pained look.
“If d’Artagnan’s back had been turned the musketball may have lodged in such a way that it could have damaged his lung and then we’d be facing a more serious situation than this one,” Lamay quickly went over to a clean bowl of water to wash the blood off his hands.
Seeing Athos’s ashen face, Porthos and Aramis each placed a reassuring hand on their oldest brother’s shoulders. It was at that moment that d’Artagnan began thrashing around on the table and it took all three of the inseparables to hold the boy down as Athos brushed a soothing hand through the lad’s sweat soaked hair.
“All will be well, d’Artagnan,” Athos said as he thought back to what Rene had said about Anne’s part in this. It was the very last thing he had expected, considering d’Artagnan’s and Athos’s colorful history with her. He promised himself to think upon this at a later date but this was so contrary to her nature that Athos couldn’t help wondering about it. First she saved the boy’s life when he and the king were kidnapped and now this. Could she really be turning over a new leaf?
“Athos,” d’Artagnan groaned, “Princess Louise...”
“Well guarded, whelp,” Porthos growled affectionately. “You just rest. No worries, eh?”
As the men watched their youngest close his eyes again, Gaspard ran into the infirmary.
“The artist’s gift that d’Artagnan was to have picked up is missing and the artist himself has been killed!”
“What was this gift supposed to have been?” Aramis asked.
“The king had commissioned Princess Louise’s portrait,” Gaspard held some papers in his hand and gave them to Athos.
“What are these?” Athos held sketches of a woman he had never seen before and was puzzled as to why Gaspard gave them to him.
“Those were the preliminary drawings that were rendered by the artist who was hired,” Gaspard shrugged. “I do not know why I took them with me but something inside me screamed they’d be important.”
“Good man, Gaspard,” Aramis slapped him on the back. “Our thanks for bringing these to us.”
As the Musketeer left, Athos handed a sketch to each of his friends. “If this is supposed to depict Princess Louise...”
“It’s not the woman we’ve been traveling with and guarding,” Aramis scrutinized the drawings closely. “Merde!”
“Yeah,” Porthos grunted. “Who the hell is the one we’ve got in the palace?”
“Think on it, gentlemen,” Athos said. “Now it’s beginning to all come together,” he frowned. “She wasn’t ever the intended target. The Archbishop was.”
“And now we have Chancellor Dupre comin’ here,” Porthos pointed out, still puzzled as to where this was all heading.
“What do they have in common?” Athos asked them.
“They’re both part of the king’s council,” Porthos exclaimed in surprise. “And the picture d’Artagnan would have picked up would have proved that the woman we’ve got in the palace ain’t the real thing.”
“I had heard earlier that another of the king’s council had gone missing,” Aramis said. “With everything happening I didn’t think it of great import at the time.”
“Who was it?” Athos glanced at Aramis curiously, worry for d’Artagnan still not far from his mind as he looked at the lad still being tended to by the doctor and Constance.
“Duc De Barville,” Aramis sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. It had been a hell of a day so far. He broke up with Marguerite and lost his jeweled cross all in a manner of minutes.
“We are dealing with assassins then. She is one and more than likely it was Francesco who shot d’Artagnan,” Athos spit out. “Treville found out earlier that the crossbow that was used to kill the Archbishop was made by Lemay Boucher,” Athos knew his friends were well acquainted with the man and his reputation.
“It was an excellent piece of work,” Aramis exchanged a wry glance with his two brothers. "You should get one commissioned for yourself, Athos," he grinned at his friend, knowing he was getting off topic. “All right, what else did Treville have to say.”
“That Boucher mentioned the weapons he had made were confiscated at La Rochelle by the Red Guards,” Athos went on to explain. “When Treville confronted Rochefort with it, the comte wasn’t worried in the slightest that there may be assassins in his own ranks.”
“Makes sense,” Porthos agreed. “Because Rochefort knew who the assassins were. He sent d’Artagnan to his death!” he growled.
“But we need to prove that, mon ami,” Aramis would like nothing better than to end the comte’s miserable life, thus ending his damning influence over the king as well.
“Right now we have to stop a potential murder.” Athos walked over to Constance’s side. “Make sure the boy doesn’t try to walk out of this infirmary.”
“You expect me to handle him?” Constance blue eyes widened in dismay. “You know as well as I do once he wakes up again he’ll go charging into that palace to help you.” Being in the same room as them, Constance couldn’t help but overhear their conversation and realized what the stakes were.
“Just do the best you can,” Athos gave her a sympathetic smile and then quickly turned around to leave with his brothers.
"Typical males," Constance muttered to herself. "Give orders to the little woman and leave her to deal with the fallout later."
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*Royal Palace*
As the inseparables arrived in time to thwart the assassin's plans of killing the chancellor, the assassin herself was surprised when the door to her state room opened and a strange looking man walked in.
Not knowing the events that were going on around him, Bonacieux innocently came back to the palace to collect his wife. Constance was going back home where she belonged. He blamed the courtiers in the palace for probably filling her head up with nonsensical ideas which lead her to proclaim she was leaving him. When he was led to this state room and told to wait here, Bonacieux thought Constance would be along shortly. As he walked inside another chamber he encountered a lovely woman holding a crossbow in her arms. Next thing Bonacieux realized was that this woman had just shot him with a steel arrow into his stomach.
Looking down at the dying man in disgust, the fake princess sneered at him. “I never did like wife beaters.” Then she fled the room, racing down the corridors of the palace as she made her escape.
As Aramis was the second fastest runner, after d’Artagnan, he immediately ran inside and gave chase to the assassin. He trailed her down into the basement of the palace where it had its own jail cells. Skidding to a stop as he came to one of the cells, Aramis noticed the assassin had her pistol trained on him and he had to drop his own weapons.
“You know I liked your d’Artagnan,” she smiled. “Who knows if I would have met him at a different time... different place,” she giggled. “Anyway I did his friend Constance a favor. Tell him there’s no need to thank me,” she started to back away further into the cell. “Check the state rooms.” But when she turned around to leave by the other way, the cell doors shut firmly. The other two Musketeers had come up from behind her and she was trapped.
Working on what the assassin just told him Aramis shot up the stairs to the state rooms and discovered Bonacieux's body. As his other brothers joined him, Aramis reached for a pulse in the man's neck but feeling no sign of life, shook his head sadly. “How are we going to tell Constance?”
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*Infirmary*
The inseperables went back to check on d’Artagnan and to tell Constance what had happened to her husband. Though they all thought she was better off without him, still the woman had been married to the cloth merchant.
They found d’Artagnan sitting up in a bed Doctor Lamay had assigned the boy with Constance trying to cheer him up.
“I’ve got to tell you, d’Artagnan, you have the uncanniest knack to attract homicidal women,” Aramis chuckled at the puzzled look the pup gave him. “First Milady and now the woman who posed as Princess Louise.”
“What are you on about, Aramis?” d’Artagnan thought his friend had lost his senses.
Then Athos patiently explained what had transpired after d’Artagnan had been shot.
“The assassin likes me?” d’Artagnan rolled his eyes at his brothers and even Constance laughed about it.
“Constance,” Athos voice broke the levity, “we have some bad news to give you. It’s about your husband.”
“Something’s happened to him hasn’t it?” Constance had a feeling when she was with d’Artagnan earlier but didn’t think much on it at the time.
“There’s no way to say this to soften the blow,” Athos hesitated, “Bonacieux's dead by the female assassin’s hands.”
Pulling her to his side, d’Artagnan kissed Constance gently on her forehead. “I’m here for you. We’ll all help you get through this.”
“Ironic that I told him I was leaving him and now he's gone," Constance buried her face in d'Artagnan's chest.
The other Musketeers were surprised to hear her admission but agreed the timing could have been better. Still, they were happy that she had decided to leave him before Bonacieux's untimely death. That man never did make her happy.
“Oh by the way, Aramis,” d’Artagnan held out his hand. “Someone dropped this off here for me to give it to you.” Shooting a look at the beautiful craftsmanship of the cross, d’Artagnan grinned at his friend. “You need to take better care of something like that.”
“Thank you,” Aramis removed the cross from the younger man’s hand. “I thought I’d never see this again.”
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*The Bastille*
In the meantime, Milady was getting down and dirty with said female assassin who went by the name of Sofia Martinez. Promising Sofia her release if she told Milady all she knew, Sofia astonished Milady with the information that it was Rochefort who had hired her and Francesco. He was killing off anyone standing in his way to hold sway over King Louis. And the most damning thing of all was that the comte himself was a Spanish spy. Well, Milady had another change of heart after hearing all of this. Wanting to keep the other woman's mouth shut, Milady had no compunction about it as she stabbed Sofia to death with her poignard.
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*Infirmary*
“I don’t suppose anyone here has heard the news!” Rene announced as he strode into the room. After seeing all the blank faces turned his way, Rene realized they hadn't. “The king has just made Comte Rochefort the new First Minister of France.”
Shall we say the beginning of the end, eh?