The Spanish Lady Returns (A Three Musketeers Fanfiction)

Spain, 1626 Part 2

It was close to noon when D'Artagnan pushed open the shutters over the windows in the room he and Athos had shared to sleep in. Sunlight fell on Athos' face. The musketeer groaned and tried to turn away. An empty wine bottle fell from his hand. "D'Artagnan, go away," the man complained.

"Athos, enough of this," D'Artagnan said, trying to sound firm. All he managed was to sound nervous. "I have to replace Giles in watching our prisoner, and he needs some rest. Someone has to find a way to get Firmin to Paris."

Forcing his eyes open, Athos sat up. Vaguely, he wondered just how much wine he'd managed to relieve the tavern of over the course of the night. He did recall finding some Spanish men with a taste for wine that had put him in mind of Porthos and Aramis' enthusiasm for the activity.

"All right," he grumbled. "Go. I'll start searching for a mount or carriage to return to Paris in."

"Last night you said something about not being surprised a woman was in the middle of this mess," D'Artagnan commented. "What was that about?"

Frowning, Athos thought back and couldn't recall having said any such thing. "Nothing," he answered decisively. "Firmin's words must have stuck with me more than I thought. Go. Giles will be expecting one of us."

Hesitating, D'Artagnan waited until Athos shot him a pointed glare. The young musketeer quickly left the room. Dragging himself up, Athos made himself as presentable as possible. He ignored the curious looks sent his way when he set foot in the tavern. He waved an entirely too eager barmaid and went outside.

He squinted in the bright light and started off in the general direction D'Artagnan had said the marketplace was. It wasn't the first time he'd walked along streets that weren't Parisian, but it had been a few years. At the moment, he just wanted to get back to Paris.

When a group of children ran in front of him, Athos jerked to the side to avoid tripping over them. In doing so, he hit a veiled woman. "¡Qué atrevimiento, señor!" the woman's duena exclaimed in outrage. "Exijo que se disculpe en este instante."

"Dispense usted, señora,"Athos responded, recovering his balance and stepping back.

"Athos?"

As the duena fussed over the veiled woman's appearance, Athos recognized the voice. "Dońa Maria," he said with a sigh. He made a half-hearted bow, mindful of the expected Spanish manners. "I wasn't expecting to meet you in a marketplace."

"¡Doña Esperanza! ¡No es propio hablar con extranjeros!" the duena gasped in shocked tones. "¡Y mucho menos sin el permiso de su hermano!"

Though he couldn't see her face, Athos could tell by the way Maria's head turned toward the duena that she was annoyed. Then she stepped closer. "Meet me outside the city at the south cemetery in an hour," Maria said in a very low voice. "Ven, prima."

Athos was left staring at the woman, who was dressed all in black, in much the same manner that he'd last seen her in Paris. He saw her climb into a very fancy carriage, the windows of which were covered with black curtains. Shaking his head, Athos continued on his way, determined not to be distracted from his purpose. After only a few steps, though, he swore under his breath and turned back.

'The south cemetery' was a very vague destination, and Athos knew it would take time to find the right one.

~*~

The sun was bright which did nothing to help his headache. The terrain was unfamiliar, which also annoying. Finally, though, Athos spotted a very large cemetery. The carriage he'd seen in the market was outside the gates, and the duena was pacing in front of the gates.