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.

Choosing to ride around for another entrance, Athos left his horse tethered to a tree and slipped in through a small side gate. He walked among the gravestones, large and small, searching for Maria. After ten minutes of searching, he spotted the still veiled woman crouched beside two gravestones, her hand resting on the smaller of the pair.

"Hello, Athos," Maria said, the only sign that she knew he was there. "Welcome to Madrid."

"Why did you ask to meet me here?" Athos demanded.

"It would have been impossible to speak to you in the market," she responded, remaining where she was. "Far too many ears to overhear what we would say. I come here often, so no one will think anything of it."

At her words, Athos took a second look at the stones, and the words engraved on them. The large one displayed de la Vega, among other names that were not recognizable. And the small one where Maria's gloved hand rested, had no name, merely the birth and death day: the same day was engraved in both places the stone.

"You had a child?" Athos asked in shock.

As if burned, Maria jerked her hand away from the stone. "Why have you come to Madrid, Athos?" she wanted to know, ignoring his question. "Are Aramis and Porthos here as well?"

"They are in Paris, working at finding a traitor in the palace," Athos told her. "I was sent to retrieve a man who sells information."

Maria nodded. "Armand Firmin."

Stepping forward, Athos frowned at her. "How do you know that?"

Heaving a big sigh, Maria bowed her head. "So suspicious so quickly?" she commented softly. "I overheard him speaking to someone else months ago. At a dinner my brother's father in law gave." Her hand moved up to her face. "I didn't see who it was. But the woman had information for him, and she was someone he hadn't seen in very long time."

Again, Athos was reminded of Milady, and he was getting very irritated at the reminders. "Well, that was something I didn't know five minutes ago. What else?"

"I thought I was careful getting away," Maria continued, sounding thoughtful. Her hands grasped the edge of her veil. "I suppose I should have expected this."

"Stop speaking in riddles, and get to the-," Athos snapped in annoyance. He broke off as she lifted her veil and turned to face him. A still healing wound, narrow and straight, ran the length of her right cheek. Only the slender blade of a dagger could have caused such a mark, and would almost certainly leave a scar behind. "Who did that to you? Firmin sent a man to kill you?"

She shook her head. "I'm not entirely convinced Firmin was behind the man who attacked me, and it wasn't to kill me," she corrected. "The man wanted...information that I could not give. I suppose I should be glad you're taking Firmin away. He knows where my brother will be sending me to, and now he won't be able to sell that information. If he hasn't already, that is."

Frowning, Athos began to consider this new information. "This has to do with your husband's papers, which were stolen?" he asked. He tried to keep his eyes off the scar, but it was not easy.

Lifting one shoulder, Maria answered, "Whatever information was in those papers is now outdated. No, he wanted to know of the palace in Paris. He wanted information on the musketeers, on the Cardinal's guards."

"Firmin would already know that information," Athos said thoughtfully. He sent a sharp look at her. "Why didn't you try to warn us?"

Maria sighed again. "Athos, Spain is not like Paris. I am under my brother's authority now that my father is dead," she answered. "I have tried to send letters to France, but they have all been intercepted." She shook her head. "I have been bidding my time until I am in place at the convent in the hopes I could get something through from there."

"A convent? You're going to be a nun?" Athos asked in disbelief. He shook his head. "You and Aramis will set the religious world on its head."

"It's not a question of what I want," Maria responded, sharply. Her hands coiled into fists and then relaxed. "I'm too tired to keep fighting. Everything has been taken from me. I have no friends left. My parents are dead. My husband was murdered. My reputation is nonexistent. My son..." She looked over at the small gravestone again. "I have nothing left to give."

Shocked, Athos looked closer at the little stone. No name coupled with the birth and death date being the same could only mean the child had not lived long after being born. "You never said," was all he could think to say.

"I'm tired of being a pawn in someone else's game," Maria went on as though he hadn't spoken. "A nunnery seems the only thing left for a woman like me."

As much as he wanted to just leave her be and finish his mission, Athos had the feeling he needed her help to find Firmin's partner. Crouching down beside her, Athos decided to take a leaf from D'Artagnan's book. "Do you think you have the monopoly on loss?" he asked sharply. "Do you think you're the only one to have ever been betrayed or thought you had nothing left?"

Tears sparkled in her eyes. "No," she whispered. "But what am I supposed to do?"

"Find something worth fighting for," Athos told her, thinking of what an impact D'Artagnan had been, not only on his life, but in the lives of Porthos and Aramis as well. "There are two musketeers in Paris who would object to the idea that you had no friends left. And I'm certain they would offer you the complete opposite of a nun's life."

That drew a choked laugh from the woman. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "My friends," she said.

Feeling old that he was starting to feel cramped in his current position, Athos stood up. "Are you going to help us or not?"

For a moment, she didn't answer. "Since you asked so nicely, yes," Maria finally said. She got to her feet. "I don't know how you expect me to help. All I have are my suspicions that there is a plot against France, and I believe Firmin is one of the masterminds."

"Firmin has already been taken into our custody," Athos informed her in an offhand way. "He mentioned having a partner who would take over where he left off."

Maria frowned. "It couldn't have been the woman I heard," she responded. "Firmin has a Spanish outlook that a woman is to be seen and not heard. He'd never willingly go along with anything a woman would say."

Shaking his head, Athos objected, "That maybe what he wants people to think. What he said before hinted at an almost respect for how a woman befriended the musketeers..." His voice trailed off.

"I wondered how long it would take before you suspected me," Maria said with a sigh.

"No, the only woman who would fit the description Firmin gave is dead," Athos answered. "I saw her take her own life."

The look Maria sent him became quizzical. "Do you suppose that Firmin will be in a better condition for questions now?" was all she asked though.

"Why do you assume he wasn't before?"

"You're a musketeer, and you came all the way to Spain to catch him. Why wouldn't I assume you did something to him?"

Athos shrugged, accepting her logic. "He wanted me to give you his regards."

"I'm sure he did," Maria said. She glanced towards the front of the cemetery. "My cousin will come looking for me soon. I should get back to her."

"Is there anyone here in Madrid who would be able to help discover who Firmin was working with?"

Sighing again, Maria nodded. "My oldest brother is a member of the Spanish court," she said, her tone reluctant. "If anyone would know a nobleman with a grudge against France, it would be Alejandro."

"Lead the way."

Pulling her veil back down, Maria warned, "Keep far back, Athos. My driver has eyes like a hawk and he will not take kindly to you following us."

"Dońa Maria, I am a musketeer. If I do not want someone to see me, they do not."

~*~

It wasn't difficult to follow the carriage. Athos contemplated everything he'd learned. From everything that had been said, he had the deep suspicion that his former wife had survived. But how could she have? Or was this simply someone following Milady's footsteps? And for a split second, he had suspected Maria.

But he'd dismissed that thought just as quickly as it had come. In spite of her secrets, the young marquesa had shown nothing but loyalty to her friends. And, speaking of friends, he knew for a fact that when Porthos and Aramis learned of this, they both be very, VERY unhappy with what had happened to the woman's face. Both would probably vow revenge on the spot, and Athos would be hard pressed to attempt to stop them.

Once they reached the city, Athos felt confident enough to move in closer. He trailed along until the carriage reached a large home. Athos stayed back as Maria and her duena went in, and then swung down to the ground. When he reached the front door, he could hear raised voices coming from within.

Tilting his head, he held back from knocking, and listened, realizing that both voices were speaking in French. "-why should I not visit my son's grave? I do not have to detail every move I make, Alejandro!"

It was Maria's voice. "Pera, I am responsible for you," a man responded sharply. Athos frowned at the name 'Pera.' "I don't understand you! Your life was threatened! Your beauty ruined! And still you defy every order I give! You should be grateful for the protection I give you!"

"You are being a fool! Why should I be grateful that you meddle in my life over and over again? You forget that I am a married woman!"

"You are a widow and I am the head of this family now! As my sister, you will show me some respect."

"And as my brother you should show me some respect as well! And you should listen when I try to tell you something!" Maria spat back.

It became silent, and Athos banged on the door. A young maid pulled open the door, and the musketeer was able to look in. His hand falling to his side slowly, Maria's brother looked torn between regret and anger. "Return to your room, Pera," he said evenly. "Perhaps once you've taken vows, you will allow yourself to consider your place in the world and appreciate what I have done."

"God forgive you, Alejandro, for I cannot," Maria answered. She turned, her left hand still pressed against her reddened cheek. Her eyes widened as she saw Athos. "Athos."

"Marquesa," Athos responded.

"May I assist you, senor?" Maria's brother asked, realizing abruptly that there was a spectator to the scene. "Pera, leave me to my guest."

"Don Alejandro Montoya, this is senor Athos, one of the musketeers who saved my life on so many occasions in Paris," Maria responded. She kept her hand in place on her cheek. "I-...please excuse me. You must have business to discuss with my brother."

Athos stepped into the house, nodding at her. "Come have a drink with me," Montoya invited. "If you are one of the men who saved my sister, then I must thank you. She has spoken very highly of you since she has returned."

As Maria hurried away, Athos followed Montoya to a large library. "What brings a musketeer to Madrid and my home?" the Spanish nobleman asked, pouring wine into ornate glasses. He offered one to Athos and gestured for him to have a seat.

Sipping the rather excellent wine, Athos chose a seat. In as few words as possible, he outlined what had brought him to Madrid, how he and his companions had captured their target, and the suspicion of a partner. He was careful to keep Maria's name out of the entire thing. As it was, by the time he'd finished, Montoya was frowning.

"A partner? That is ridiculous!" Montoya said, shaking his head. "Firmin is well known for knowing anything and everything of importance. Have you considered that he is a liar trying to save himself?"

"Even Armand Firmin cannot be plotting the ruination of a country by himself."

Montoya finished his wine. "Believe me, senor, I have had this man investigated very thoroughly," he said. "Especially after what happened to...well, there was an alarming incident, but he has kept himself very far from anything incriminating. If you have him, senor, then I am pleased I need not worry over him any further."

"You can tell me nothing more?"

The Spanish man shrugged dismissively. "I am afraid not," he answered, getting to his feet, "I apologize for the scene earlier. I am responsible for my sister's welfare, but she is strong willed and does not appreciate what I do for her." He heaved a sigh and shook his head. "I will worry over her until I can complete the negotiations and she is safe in a convent."

Reminded of the idea of Maria as a nun almost made Athos smile. "An odd choice for her future," he commented, rising as well. "She doesn't seem suited for it."

"It was our father's dying wish, and I gave my word I would secure my sister's safety. And I have hopes that the life will instruct her in her proper place as her marriage did not."

The idea of men being superior was not a new idea, but not one Athos necessarily agreed with. "Thank you for your time, Don Alejandro. Until we are certain that there isn't someone who will take Firmin's place, my companions and I can't leave for Paris."

Montoya nodded. "I understand. I wish I could be of more help."

With that, Athos took his leave. He caught sight of Maria watching from the stairs. He nodded respectfully as he went out the door.

Giles was dead to the world when Athos looked in on the man. Returning to the tavern, Athos contemplated everything he'd learned as he drained a bottle of wine. When there was a stir at the door, he looked up. "D'Artagnan," he said, spotting the familiar form of the young man. There was blood on D'Artagnan's face, which brought Athos to his feet. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"I'm fine," D'Artagnan responded, reaching a hand up to his left ear. Athos' eyes followed his movement, narrowing at the graze that was sluggishly oozing blood. "But Firmin...the shot came out of nowhere."

"Not here," Athos said, grabbing the young man's arm. He guided his friend away from the gawkers and up the stairs. "He's dead?"

D'Artagnan simply nodded. This time, as they entered, Giles stirred from sleep. "Let me have a look, boy," Athos said gruffly, pushing D'Artagnan to a bed. "Sit."

"There's no need to fuss," D'Artagnan objected, trying to get back up.

Firmly, Athos grabbed him by the back of the neck. "Hold still, D'Artagnan" he ordered. He dabbed at his bleeding ear with a cloth pulled from one of the saddlebags. "It may not be a bad wound, but its bleeding still. This was an incredible shot, wasn't it?"

"How do you figure that?" Giles asked. He crossed his arms and watched Athos clean the blood from D'Artagnan's ear. "How did this happen?"

"Two shots. One to take care of Firmin, and one to make a point," Athos responded.

Giles raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose this takes care of that problem," he commented. He shook his head. "Did you leave the body?"

"I didn't know what else to do," D'Artagnan said, flinching in pain. "You don't find it at all strange that we take Firmin into custody one evening and the very next day, someone kills him?"

"Firmin is the kind of man who would always have enemies."

Shaking his head, Athos finished cleaning up the blood on D'Artagnan's face. "I did find something when I searched for the shooter," D'Artagnan said, reaching for his pocket. He brought out an envelope and handed it to Athos. The seal had already been broken and inside was an elegant invitation. "Its for a ball."

"Does it matter? All we were sent to do was capture Firmin, but now he's dead," Giles pointed out.

"The ball will be tomorrow night," Athos said thoughtfully. "Whoever killed Firmin, perhaps his partner, will be there."

"Again, I ask, what concern is it of ours?" Giles wanted to know. "We don't even know who it is."

"But we do have a lead," Athos responded, looking up. "I came across Dońa Maria Esperanza de la Vega in the market today. She heard Firmin recieving information from a woman not very long ago. She may be able to identify the woman if she heard her again?"

D'Artagnan looked at him in surprise. "Would it be wise to include her in something like this?" Giles questioned. "Athos, she was under suspicion for being a spy. You do remember that don't you?"

"It wasn't proved," Athos responded dismissively.

"I'm not hearing this correctly, am I?" Giles protested. "Athos, you were the one-."

Turning, Athos leveled his gaze at the man. "Enough, Giles," he said sharply. "We are doing this, whether you like it or not."

~*~

An hour later, the three musketeers were standing outside the Montoya home. Athos had already been to the front door, and had left a message for the woman, though he doubted it would actually reach the woman. On the chance that the woman would glance out and recognize them, they stood in plain view.

Finally, D'Artagnan spotted a figure pause in one of the windows. Not long after, a small gate that undoubtedly led to the servants' entrance opened and a veiled figure appeared, gesturing to them. "Athos, " he said, getting the older man's attention.

Nodding, Athos led the way over. "What are you doing back here?" Maria demanded in a hushed voice as she allowed them into the garden. She was alone, and glanced around uneasily. "I have done all that I can for you, Athos."

"What do you know about this?" Athos asked, handing over the invitation.

Taking the item, Maria tried to study it, and then flipped her veil back to see better. D'Artagnan's eyes widened in shock. "What about it?" the marquesa queried, looking up with a frown. "It is a masked ball. My brother and his wife are attending."

"Armand Firmin was shot and killed," Athos told her. "Whoever did it, dropped that invitation."

"You think he'll be there?" Maria realized. "So, why have you come to me?"

"You've heard the woman's voice before."

Maria's hand went to her cheek. "Yes," she answered reluctantly. She took a step back. "No. Nonono! Athos. What you are thinking... it is not a good idea, Athos."

"You'll be as safe as anyone," Athos said. "You'll have a mask."

"That's not what I was concerned with," Maria snapped back. She shook her head, sighing. "You really are insane, aren't you? How on earth will you pull something like this off?"

"What exactly are you two talking about here?" D'Artagnan asked in confusion. "All you'd have to do is listen for the woman and then tell us who it is."

"Oh, you haven't even told them?" Maria asked incredulously.

Athos had an unfriendly smile on his face. "All of us are going to attend this party, D'Artagnan, and find Firmin's partner."

"What?" Giles and D'Artagnan said in unison.

Throwing her hands up in the air, Maria scowled at Athos. "Why would the man have this on him in the first place?" she demanded, pointing at the invitation. "He will realize he has lost it and will know better than to attend. It will be for nothing."

"You act like you're afraid."

She closed her mouth abruptly. "I don't know if I'm up for this kind of thing, Athos," D'Artagnan admitted. "Do I look like I'm fit to be in the company of nobles?"

"Its never stopped you before," Athos said, rousing himself. "Pretend a boredom with the world and you'll be fine."

"No, no. D'Artagnan has an excellent point," Maria responded, instantly. "You do not look like nobles. You do not act like nobles. You are warriors, Athos. You will bring disgrace on yourselves and the rest of the Musketeers because you will be noticed and you will have trouble."

Reaching over, Athos caught Maria's arms and held her in place. "Maria, you said you would help us," he said, meeting the woman's eyes. "This is how you can help, and prove your loyalty to your friends. If you don't, France will be in danger. Queen Anne will be in danger."

D'Artagnan waited for the protest as Maria's face twisted with conflict. "Fine," Maria said tightly. She jerked free. "For Anne. For my friends, I'll do what I can, and that's all I can promise, Athos. What do you need from me?"