The Comte de Carti, Henri Germain, was everything that was gracious in greeting the queen. The journey to the estate had been unremarkable, save for the consistent Spanish that came from one particular carriage. Athos had assigned one of the younger musketeers there and rode at the front without any remorse.
Marquez and his daughter were studying the estate manor as the queen spoke with the comte. "I have taken every precaution, Your Majesty," Carti said. "You will be as safe here as you would be in your own palace."
Anne smiled graciously, but glanced over at the musketeers. "I sent five men ahead to make sure, Your Majesty," Athos informed her.
Looking annoyed, the comte escorted the queen into the manor. "Spread out," Athos ordered, turning to the rest of the musketeers. "I have a schedule ready. I want five men on guard at all times."
"Senñorita Marquez," Aramis said, shaking his head. "And this was looking to be a very interesting trip."
His eyes were on one of the passing ladies in waiting. The young lady hurried on, giggling. "Aramis, we have a job to do," Athos told him. "Treville's information states that the comte is a loyal Cardinalist. No doubt he's hired his own guards for this event."
"And you want us to keep from fighting?" Porthos asked, his tone disappointed.
"No. I'm just warning you ahead of time so you can be ready."
~*~
A musketeer remained within sight of the queen at all times, save for when she was in her private chambers. Tension began to rise when at least half of the other guests, all of whom were known supporters of the Cardinal, made some sort of disparaging remark about the musketeers' presence. The guards of the Comte showed the same disdainful attitude, which led to an incident the second night.
It was very early when a guard was sent into the stable that was serving as the headquarters for the musketeers. He informed Athos that the Comte was demanding retribution for what had happened. Having had the story from Porthos already, Athos was not surprised to hear the message.
"Three men!" the Comte raged, glaring across his desk at the musketeer. "Three of my men, men who are necessary to guard the queen, left unconscious on the ground by one of your musketeers! I demand you punish your musketeers severely and without delay."
"If a single man could take out all three, they were too incompetent to be trusted with the protection of Her Majesty," Athos told the man. "As I understand it, your men provoked the fight in the first place."
The Comte's eyes narrowed. "Am I to assume from that statement that you will not be reprimanding your men?" he demanded. Athos said nothing, knowing he did not have to answer to this arrogant man for anything. "Then, I will report you to the king."
"Feel free."
There was a light tap on the door before it opened. "Señor Comte," Maria said, stepping into the room.
The Comte leaned back in his seat as Athos withdrew from the library. Porthos was waiting out in the hallway. "Am I to consider myself severely punished?" the big man asked.
"If you want," Athos answered. "Carti's men didn't admit to which of the musketeers was the culprit."
The door flew open and Maria stalked out, her dark eyes glittering with rage. She pulled the door shut with a jerk. "Señor Athos," she said, her tone a deceptive calm. "Will you kindly inform the Comte that Her Majesty the Queen desires a ride across the countryside?"
"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Athos asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Apparently, when I speak, my accent makes it impossible for the Comte to hear me," Maria answered. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly in attempt to calm down. "If you would make the request, I will not have to go back to Anne without an answer. Otherwise, there will be trouble."
"You would think a nobleman with a title and all would be able to listen when a lady speaks," Porthos said, taking a step towards the door. "By all rights you out rank him. I'll be happy to make the adjustment to his manners."
Reaching out, Maria put her hand on the large man's shoulder, and shook her head. "It is not necessary, Porthos," she said, earnestly. She looked over at Athos. "Please, Athos? It is Her Majesty's wish to ride today."
"Porthos, go tell the Comte that the queen is going riding," Athos ordered.
Putting his hand over Maria's, Porthos squeezed her fingers and reached for the door. Without knocking, he strode in. Athos moved to make the necessary arrangements, but Maria stepped in front of him. When Athos attempted to step around her, the woman boldly put her hand on his chest to stop him. She and Athos stared at each other silently for several moments.
"Was there something else?" Athos asked.
"Yes," Maria responded, very seriously. She pulled her hand away to point at him. "You don't trust me. There is no point in trying to deny it, Athos. I know it to be true."
"How do you know that?"
Maria shrugged. "Your young friend, D'Artagnan, said so to Constance; Constance told Anne; Anne mentioned it to me," she answered. She smiled. "Irrefutable proof, yes?"
"And that's how you knew Aramis hadn't gone to a physician," Athos realized, almost amused. The woman shrugged again. "If you know I don't trust you, why must we discuss it, Señora?"
"My question is, then, what have I done that you do not trust me?" she said.
"You haven't done anything to give me a reason to trust you, Señora," Athos told her.
"Haven't I told you to call me Maria, not Señora? What will it take for me to get you to trust me?" she asked. Getting no immediate answer, she stepped forward and scanned his face. "What happened to you?" she asked, ignoring the squeak of the door opening. "What possibly could have happened that you don't trust people? How can you live life always suspicious like this?"
In the doorway, Porthos froze, his eyes flicking from Maria to Athos. "Señora, I would have been dead a hundred times over if I'd trusted people I'd just met," Athos told her sharply. "And women...women are naturally liars."
"Oh, I see," Maria breathed. She shook her head. "I am going to ignore that insult, Señor, to say this: whoever she was that hurt you so, I say she did not deserve you in the first place."
Athos' eyes narrowed. "Señora, I must ask that you not speak of matters you do not know," he snapped. Maria held her ground, staring at him. "You should know from your own experience that people will turn on you the moment they're done with you."
Startled, Maria took a step back. "And is this all you have to say to me?" she asked quietly.
Athos said nothing. "The Comte says the horses will be ready in an hour," Porthos announced quickly, filling in the awkward silence. "And you just tell me the next time anyone ignores you, Maria, and I'll set them straight."
"Gracias, Porthos," Maria answered, turning around. For the briefest of moments, Porthos thought he saw pain in her eyes, but then she smiled over her shoulder at him. "I will inform Anne."
She walked away. "Maria hasn't done anything to deserve that, Athos," Porthos said, scowling at his friend. "With all she has to deal with, the last thing she needs is you snapping at her."
"If you were smart, Porthos, you would have nothing to do with the Marquesa de Molin," Athos informed him sharply. "You are nothing to her but something to play with while she's here."
Before Porthos could react, Athos walked away.
~*~
Smiling, the queen watched her ladies in waiting race across the meadow. The other house guests of the Comte were nearby, talking. Posted around the area, the vigilant musketeers kept watch, glaring every now and then at the guards the Comte had ordered to also stand guard.
Turning her horse, Queen Anne rode over to where Athos stood sentinel. "Monsieur Athos," the queen said seriously. "Might I have a word?"
"Of course, Your Majesty," Athos answered, turning to face her. "What do you wish to speak to me about? I am doing everything in my power to keep you protected while you are here-."
"Monsieur, it is not that which I wish to peak of," she told him. "I know you will complete your mission to the best of your ability. But I must ask you not to hurt, even unintentionally, my ladies in waiting. They are very dear to me and serve me as faithfully as you do the king. They deserve respect."
Shifting uncomfortably, Athos made a slight bow. "As you wish, Your Majesty," he said.
"Pera has had a difficult time as of late," the queen continued, her tone fond and concerned at the same time, "as I know she has explained to you. I think you should know how highly she regards you and your two friends. She has frequently called you her friends, and there are not many who have that claim to her."
"Your Majesty!" the Spanish woman they were speaking of called out. "Shall we race? Say from one end of the meadow to the other? The loser gets to tell the winner a secret."
With a light laugh, Anne rode to join her lady in waiting. Thoughtfully, Athos watched as the queen and Maria came side to side. At some unseen signal, the pair kicked their mounts into action, racing across the meadow.
"Now there is something I never would have expected." Athos turned at the unfamiliar voice. A nobleman was smirking at the musketeer while speaking to another man beside him. "A musketeer, a man who's supposed to be courageous and brave, being scolded by a woman. Its laughable! And these are the men who are to be the protectors of France?"
"I find nothing funny about accepting the Queen of France's council," Athos said.
"Are you speaking to us, soldier?" the man asked in exaggerated astonishment. "The gall of some of these peasants"
Athos stepped forward, his eyes flashing with anger. "Deaf, then, as well as disrespectful," he said. "I will be happy to cure you of both ailments, Monsieur."
The other nobles took a step back. "Monsieur?" the nobleman repeated in shock. "Do you not know who I am? I am the Viscomte de Chagny!"
"Athos!" D'Artagnan came racing up on Buttercup. He glanced between Athos and the group of nobleman, aware he'd interrupted something but unsure as to what it was. "Pierre caught a man, armed with a pistol, trying to go out on the field. We're holding him for you."
Nodding, Athos turned to mount his horse. "Run along little musketeer," Chagny taunted. "Run along and protect the Spanish woman."
Immediately, Athos spun around. "Those are fighting words," he said.
"As if I would dirty my blade with the likes of you," the man said, his tone bored.
Curling his fingers into a fist, Athos stepped forward and punched the man. Chagny reeled and fell to the ground. "Tomorrow morning at dawn," Athos said, looking down at the man. "At this place."
Everyone had turned to look. "I'll be here, Monsieur," Chagny said tightly.
Turning his back on the man, Athos strode over and mounted his horse. He saw D'Artagnan staring at him in astonishment. "Let's go."
~*~
Later that evening, a very helpful maid directed Aramis to the wing where the ladies in waiting were staying. He glanced at the many doors that lined the hallway. Señorita Marquez came out of one, jerked the door closed, and started in the opposite direction, anger in every step she took.
"Excuse me, Señorita," Aramis called out. The young woman paused and turned. Aramis ignored the look of disgust on the woman's face. "I am looking for Doña Maria. I need to speak to her. Can you tell me which chamber is hers and if she is there?"
Señorita Marquez stared at him. "Why would I help you?" she asked, her tone disdainful. "And what could you possibly have to talk to her about?"
"Never mind," Aramis said. He stepped to the first door and raised his hand to knock.
"Oh, very well. You will only make yourself annoying if I do not," señorita Marquez said with an exaggerated sigh. When Aramis looked over, the woman had started to smile. She gestured at a door on her left. "Just go in. Perhaps you can get her out of this blue mood."
Suspicious of this abrupt helpfulness, Aramis frowned. Impatiently, The young lady stepped over and opened the door herself. "Doña Maria!" she called out. She turned and walked away, leaving the door open.
Still perplexed, Aramis stepped into the room and froze. Long black hair falling around her face, the young woman turned her head. Her eyes widened in shock and water splashed as she moved. "Aramis!" she shrieked, ducking down below the rim of the bathtub. "What do you think you're doing? Get out!"
Swiftly, Aramis grabbed the door knob and pulled the door shut. Something glass shattered against the other side of the door.
"Monsieur!"
Turning, Aramis found Constance staring at him in shock. "Good evening, Constance," he greeted, clearing his throat. Laughter echoed in the hallway and Aramis caught sight of Señorita Marquez vanishing down a connecting hallway.
Her face fiery red, Constance hurried on her way. Aramis was left standing alone in the middle of the hallway. He glanced once at the door and walked away quickly.
~*~
That night, D'Artagnan came off his guard shift and joined his three friends out there. He glanced at Athos and Aramis, and took a seat next to Porthos. He put his head in his hands. "All right," Athos said, taking his pipe from his mouth. "What's on your mind, boy?"
"Why would anything be on my mind?" the young Gascon hedged, looking up.
"Out with it, D'Artagnan," Porthos said.
Sighing, the boy shook his head. "Fine," he responded. "Constance is mad at me because of you two." He pointed first at Athos and then at Aramis. "We argued and now she won't speak to me."
Raising his eyebrows, Porthos looked between his two friends. "What did they do?" he asked.
"Constance wouldn't say!" D'Artagnan answered. "All I know is that it has to do with Señora de la Vega."
Porthos was amazed to see Aramis look very uncomfortable. "Well, I know what Athos did to upset Maria," Porthos said, "but what did you do, Aramis? I thought you liked Maria."
"It's not important," Aramis responded quickly.
"Not important?" Porthos repeated. "How can it be 'not important' if it upset her. Tell me you didn't snap at her like Athos did."
"There was a misunderstanding between us," Aramis answered. "That's all."
Still amazed, Porthos shook his head. "Well, I suppose this explains why Maria didn't want to speak to me earlier," he said. "I saw her through the window and called out, but she turned her back on me. She probably thinks we all are unworthy of her friendship."
"Why are you being held accountable?" Athos asked D'Artagnan.
The Gascon shrugged. "The queen's not happy since Señora de la Vega is upset," he said. "According to Constance, the queen is going to ask the king to give all of the musketeers a reprimand for the way they've been treating her ladies in waiting, unless an apology is made."
"And how did you argue with your lady over this?" Porthos asked.
D'Artagnan shook his head. "I said it wasn't fair for her to be mad at me," he answered. "Constance says your my friends, and I have to be judged by the company I keep."
"I'll apologize, if it will help smooth things over," Aramis said swiftly. He looked over at Athos, who looked none too pleased with this turn of events. "Would you rather have the king reprimand the entire corps and have Treville come down on us?"
"I will speak to her after the duel tomorrow," Athos answered, his tone reluctant. "The queen already hinted that I should do so."
D'Artagnan straightened up. "What did you learn from the man we caught earlier?" he asked.
Athos shook his head. "He wouldn't say a word," he answered. "Carti insisted he be allowed to deal with the man. I just learned that the man got a hold of a knife and killed himself."
"Do you think the queen is in danger?" Porthos asked.
"I don't see how harming the queen will aid the Cardinal in any way, but I think it a possibility she is in danger here," Athos answered slowly. He shook his head. "Carti is loyal to the Cardinal and he is in the position to do something if Richelieu were to ask it of him."
"Could he get away with something like that?" D'Artagnan asked with a frown. "Wouldn't he be punished by the king?"
"Carti is smart enough not to allow himself to be implicated," Athos responded. "This is only speculation and cannot go any further than us four."
The other three nodded. "We should turn in," Aramis said. "With a duel at dawn, multiple apologies to make, we have a busy day tomorrow."