This story starts immediately after the end of The Hunger.

A New Day Dawning

Chapter One

Aramis stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt, giving the cool air access to his over-heated skin. He wet a cloth and wiped his face and the back of his neck. His arms and legs shook from the exertion of a training session with Athos. The Captain and Porthos had been working him hard to restore his missing stamina. Already he could feel an improvement in his physical condition, if not in his mental state.

He slumped down onto the bed, rotating his sore shoulders. So much had changed over the last four years. Athos had fully embraced his captaincy, withdrawing ever so subtly from the easy camaraderie that they had shared. Porthos had grown into a warrior of epic proportions, losing much of his sense of fun along the way. D'Artagnan had perhaps changed most of all. No longer the raw but promising recruit. He was a man now, secure in the knowledge of his own accomplishments. The young man and Porthos had formed a strong bond, unsurprising after sharing so many years of hardship and depravation. War changed men and there was no going back.

He, in contrast, had spent four years safe and secure. The war had touched them, that was true, bringing orphans to their door. It had never overtly threatened them though until the day his friends had burst back into his life. During all that time he had lived in a community without ever feeling part of it. In truth he had been lonely. Telling stories to the children had been his way of trying to stay connected to the friends he had abandoned. It had only pushed the knife deeper into his gut. He'd prayed every day for their survival even knowing how unlikely it was that all three of them still lived. His prayers had been answered and the four of them were reunited. Why, then, did he still feel alone?

Porthos had said they had learnt to live without him. Unfortunately, he had never learnt to live without them. Now he was back and that only emphasized how far apart they had drifted. They had been in Paris for two days and already he was wondering if he had made a mistake. Would they ever be able to return to the brotherhood they had known before he turned his back on them?

He stood and retrieved a clean shirt. As he dressed he reflected on the fact that Paris had also changed. Now it was full of refugees and food supplies were stretched thin. There was no evidence that the King had taken any steps to alleviate the suffering of the people. He wondered how the Queen was coping and that turned his thoughts to the Dauphin. The boy would be five now. In his haste to make his peace with God he had forsaken the promise he had made to Anne to always be there to protect their son. Would she ever forgive that betrayal? How could he have made such a mess of his life?

The Abbot had been wise in giving him the children to care for. Without them he would have spiraled down into darkness. Clearly he wasn't cut out to be a monk but was he fit to be a Musketeer? He resolutely shuttered those worries away. There would be time enough to ponder them later in the long hours of the night. He left his room and made his way to the mess hall. There was no sign of Athos but Porthos and d'Artagnan were sitting together at a table at the back of the room. He helped himself to a bowl of stew and a slice of bread before walking over to join them.

"How's the training going?" d'Artagnan asked.

"Slowly and painfully."

"Well, we told you they won't be pullin' their punches out on the streets," Porthos said.

"Yes, I saw that for myself today. What do you think of Captain Marcheaux?"

"He's a smug bastard who'll get what's comin' to him."

"He insulted Constance," d'Artagnan said, his voice dangerously low. "When it comes time to teach him a lesson it'll be me that teaches it to him."

"You be careful," Aramis warned. "He's devious and he has the ear of the Marquis de Feron."

"Feron doesn't frighten me."

"He holds the ultimate power in Paris. Remember that he's the King's illegitimate brother. They are blood. It won't be like dealing with Rochefort or Richelieu." Aramis dipped his spoon into the thin stew. He knew from talking to Constance that it was becoming increasingly difficult to get fresh produce. He could only admire her tenacity in keeping the garrison functioning while they had all been away.

"Feron is as corrupt as his predecessors. Eventually the King will realise that. He'll fall and Marcheaux will fall with him."

"He's been the Governor of Paris for almost four years, d'Artagnan. If the King hasn't worked things out by now I doubt he ever will."

Porthos poured wine for them all. "Well, we're back now. Things'll be different."

"I wish I shared your optimism, my friend." What difference could the four of them make? True, they had Minister Treville on their side but even he was subordinate to Feron when it came to matters of the city. "Where's Athos?"

"The Minister sent for him. He's at the palace." D'Artagnan finished his meal and stood up. "Now, I'm going to spend some time with my wife."

"D'you feel like goin' out for a drink?" Porthos asked after d'Artagnan had left.

Aramis dropped his spoon into the empty bowl. He was tired and his muscles ached but this was one of the first overtures of friendship he'd received from Porthos since leaving the monastery. "I believe that would be a fitting way to celebrate the return of the grain."

"Come on then. Let's see if we can find some of the Red Guard to play cards with."

"I hope it isn't your intention to cheat them out of their wages."

"Nah. I'm a reformed character."

Porthos winked at him and Aramis felt himself relaxing. Maybe he could make this work after all.

TMTMTM

"Come in, Captain." Treville signed the document in front of him and sanded it before affixing his seal.

"Minister." Athos looked around the room which had once belonged to Rochefort. How things had changed over the last few years. Treville looked entirely at home in his role as Minister for War, despite his oft spoken dislike of politics.

"Have a seat." Treville opened the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of brandy and two glasses. "You all did well today."

"You can thank Porthos for that. He followed his instincts and located the grain. Without it, there would have been more riots." He accepted the glass and savoured the liquor. "I've missed this. The wine we had on the campaign wasn't fit to drink."

"It sounds like you were fortunate to win your last battle. I've read your report. Do you have any idea who stole the weapons and powder?"

"Mercenaries more than likely. They were planning to sell them to the Spanish. It was unfortunate that Aramis and Porthos had to blow them up but that was preferable to the alternative." He looked shrewdly at Treville. "Is there something on your mind?"

Treville drained his glass and poured another. "That wasn't the first arms shipment that was hijacked."

"Oh?"

"There have been two other incidents just like that."

He held the bottle out to Athos who shook his head.

"Too much paperwork to take care of. I need to keep a clear head. When did these attacks happen?"

"The first was a couple of months ago. At first I didn't think much about it. There are many men who have become opportunists the longer the war has dragged on. Then we lost another caravan of arms about three weeks ago. Now, we have the incident you describe."

"You think they are connected?"

"I don't believe in coincidences."

"That would imply that someone in Paris is a traitor. Who, besides yourself, knows of the movement of the weapons?"

"It's hardly a secret. The finance minister is always told when we are purchasing another shipment. Then there's the minister for armaments. He's the one who's responsible for procuring the supplies. The soldiers on guard don't know anything until they are given their assignments and, as there were no survivors from any of the attacks, I doubt if it was one of them."

"You suspect one of your Council colleagues then?"

"Sadly, yes."

"What would you have us do?"

"I believe it is either the Baron de Montfaucon or the Marquis de Schonen. Both would have had the requisite knowledge and both are suffering financial hardship as the war has taken its toll on their estates."

"You want us to watch them? Surely they won't do anything overt." Athos couldn't imagine either man sneaking around to meet with either mercenaries or a Spanish spy.

"I want you to look into their affairs. If one of them is a traitor, he is likely being well paid."

"We will do what we can." Athos stood up and made ready to leave. "When is the next shipment due to leave Paris?"

"In two weeks so you don't have much time. I'll be damned if I'm going to lose more good men to someone's greed."

Tbc