Dying by the sword Read Online Free Page B

intercepted, and that the Queen fears the duchess will be taken from her as . . . as so many of her friends have.”

    “I see,” Monsieur de Treville said. “And you lack all knowledge of the contents of this correspondence.”

    “I’ve been given to understand,” Aramis said. “That someone of a suspicious turn of mind might think that it fomented conspiracy against him or even . . .” He shrugged slightly. “A plot to assassinate him.”

    “You speak in riddles,” Porthos burst forth. “Who is this duchess? And what can she mean with the Queen? And what does all of it have to do with my poor Mousqueton? And when you say duchess, is she yet another of your seamstresses?”

    The shocked look from Aramis might mean anything—including that the duchess was indeed one of his seamstresses, the name Aramis had used for many years to signify whichever noble lady he was, at the time, having a carnal liaison with. But before Aramis could answer, Monsieur de Treville cleared his throat calling their attention.

    “I’m not going to credit Aramis’s rumor,” he said. “But I have heard rumors myself and, what’s more . . .” He shrugged. “As you know, I have friends among the guards of his eminence as, doubtless, he has friends among my musketeers.”

    “If I find the dogs,” Porthos said, understanding that by friends Monsieur de Treville meant spies, “I will cut out their tongues.”

    “You’ll do nothing of the kind,” Aramis interposed. “Do you not think that Monsieur de Treville knows who they are? A known spy is almost an ally. You can make sure he knows only what you want him to know and furthermore that he knows a lot of things that aren’t true.”

    Porthos, who was quite bright enough but disdained this type of underhanded intrigue, turned to the captain, only to be met with a nod of acquiescence. “Indeed, my dear Porthos,” he said. “I beg you you will leave his eminence’s pet musketeers alone,” he said with the hint of amusement. “However, this is how it stands—rightly or wrongly, his eminence has interpreted some correspondence which he intercepted between the Duchess de . . . well, I need not name her, only to give her her nom de guerre, Marie Michon, and the Queen. And he has taken it into his head that the purpose of the two ladies’ conspiracy is to kill him and install another one in his place, in the King’s favor.” He shrugged. “I’m sure it’s all overblown suspicion, however . . .” He shrugged again. “You can see how this would make him wish to have one of your servants in his power.”

    “I see nothing of the kind,” Porthos said. “What has poor Mousqueton to do with duchesses and queens?”

    “Well,” Monsieur de Treville fixed the four with a slightly considering gaze. “It is an open secret, though certainly not openly discussed, that the Queen owes the four inseparables a favor. This being so, she might be convinced to abandon her interest in this conspiracy and, in fact, to denounce her friend wholly to the Cardinal, in order to avoid the inseparables’ servant being condemned on a murder charge.”

    “ Dents Dieu ,” Porthos said. “You’d think that if she’s indebted to us, they’d try to arrest one of us, not our servant.”

    The look the captain gave him was grave enough it would not have been out of place at a funeral. “Undoubtedly they did and they will, Porthos. Mousqueton was probably simply the easiest prey at the time. They know how loyal the Queen is, and that she might commit whatever folly for her friend. She has near disgraced herself for other friends in the past.”

    “But . . .” Porthos said. “But . . . I would not want the Queen to compromise herself for my sake.” And after a hesitation, “Or even Mousqueton’s.”

    But at the same time that he spoke, Athos said, “Do you mean to tell us, sir, that Cardinal Richelieu ordered the armorer murdered solely in order to entrap Porthos’s