El Impostor Espanol

Chapter 1 - Keep Your Friends Close

Anna strode through the Louvre, only half listening to the young serving girl at her heels as she babbled on about what the Queen was demanding and how the only lady she'd allow into the royal bedchamber was her most trusted guard.

"If Her Majesty wants strawberries, why hasn't she been given them already?" She cut the girl off and rolled her eyes as she shrunk away from the female Musketeer and began running to the kitchens. "Honestly." She sighed: in her time at the Louvre she had noticed that while most of the serving staff were able to pre-empt their monarch's wishes, there were a few who often needed a nudge, or a sharp kick, in the right direction.

She took the stairs two at-a-time as she bounded through the numerous halls of the palace, following the distant cries of the Queen. Bursting though the double doors leading to the Queen's bedchamber she ushered out the remaining Ladies-In-Waiting and closed the door behind them.

"Your Majesty." She bobbed a curtsey before kneeling beside the wailing woman.

"Anna." She grasped the Musketeer's hand as another contraction overcame her. "I am so glad you came."

"I am never far away, Your Majesty, you know that." It was true, for the last two months of the Queen's pregnancy; Anna had been stationed solely at the palace and had been issued with her own rooms just five minutes from the Queen's. "A girl should be here soon with the strawberries you asked for..." She told her as she wiped away small beads of sweat from her forehead. "...is there anything else I can get you, Your Majesty?"

"Anna, I need a friend." The woman pleaded. "And there is no-one I trust more with mine and my child's lives, so no more 'Your Majesty' or 'Your Highness', please just call me Anne and help me get through this."

"Of course, Your-" The Queen glared at her. "...Anne." They exchanged smiles before another shriek ripped from the Queen's throat and her dainty hand gripped Anna's like a vice.

The sleepy French countryside was still as the morning sun cast its glowing rays over the lush hilltops and coaxed the forest's inhabitants out of their shade to revel in its warmth. The air was silent, not a sound could be heard as the valley lay empty – no signs of the nearby villagers basking in the sunshine.

Silent, until four horses broke through the tree-line, their hooves pounding on the grassy embankments as their riders headed for the almost un-noticeable pathway leading to the secluded village.

"And we've no idea who this man is?" D'Artagnan, the youngest of the four asked as the horses slowed to a walk and the riders un-mounted; walking side-by-side as their horses happily recovered from the gallop they'd been pushed into.

"The Captain doesn't know his identity." Porthos reminded him as a flask was passed down the line of Musketeers, each taking a drag from it.

"All I know is that we're to be in the village inn at noon and he'll make himself known." Athos told them.

"Why the mystery?" Aramis asked the question on everyone's mind as they wandered through the open landscape.

"The King's council has been in chaos since the Cardinal died; no-one knows who's in charge."

"Well at least we're not in Paris pretending to grieve for him." Porthos shrugged, enjoying being free of the funeral.

"They say he wore out his heart in the service of France." Athos smirked as he recalled Anna's precise wording from one of her many letters since she'd been at the palace.

"It's a pleasant surprise to hear he had one at all." D'Artagnan commented as Porthos snickered beside him.

"God...have mercy on his soul." Aramis made the sign of the cross as he spoke, missing that his three comrades stopped to stare incredulously at him. He continued on a few steps before noticing their absence at his side and glanced back them. "He's dead; we can afford to be generous." He grinned at them before continuing their journey.