A Matter of Muskets
by Berry Kercheval

14 September,
A.D. 1627
Near Angoutin

To the most excellent Capitaine de T--

My dear sir, as you have requested I have prepared this report in support of the requisition we have had the honor to present to you. I realize my verbal report sounded fantastic, but I swear on my honor as a gentleman and a Musketeer that every word of it is true. The full and complete account of our adventure and the necessity of our request shall be explained fully in this document.

My three companions and I had, as you no doubt are aware, been assigned to patrol to the south, so as to detect well in advance any attempt by the English soldiers to break our siege of La Rochelle. In accordance with these orders we rode in the direction of Saintes.

Rounding a small hill we came upon a most curious sight. It appeared to be nothing so much as a giant cigare, perhaps 30 or 40 feet in length and eight or ten in height, sitting in a small field. As we approached, we saw that it was not so much sitting on the earth as hovering a few inches above it.

Suddenly a door or hatch opened in its side. This door was hinged at the bottom, and as it swung down toward the earth it formed a kind of ramp to afford entrance to the interior of the remarkable object.

Since our muskets were ready charged, we dismounted, tethered our beasts and, in accordance with standing orders, arrayed ourselves so as to receive whatever manner of man might come forth.

In the event, there came forth several small men, of no race or country we had ever seen before, and, as it later transpired, speaking no known language. These men were perhaps as tall as a slight youth, with grey skin, no hair to speak of, large black eyes and thin lips, wearing silvery garments of near immodest tightness. One of them stood forth and, gesturing at us, said something in a tone of command that was entirely incomprehensible. I knew not what manner of men these might be, but I most certainly knew they had no right to command us.

"I fear," I replied, "that I do not understand you, but know that we are Musketeers of the King, and we demand that you account for your presence here."

This seemed to nonplus the grey men, and they conversed in their unknown language while we waited to see how they would respond to our demand.

"What manner of men are these?" asked my companion Athos. "They are no Frenchmen, that is for sure."

"They are no doubt enemies," said Porthos, "Observe the steely implements which they brandish in their hands. If they are in league with the English, perhaps they are mercenaries from one of their outlying territories, Scotland perhaps?"

Aramis spoke, as usual piercing to the heart of the matter with his keen intelligence. "I have heard that the Scottish people are of strange and terrifying appearance, and make hideous noises in battle. These fellows are indeed strange, but rather quiet and hardly terrifying."

At this point the leader of the grey men spoke a word that was unmistakably a command, and the party began to raise their implements with the clear intent of aiming them at us. At once we prepared to fire at them, since no one may threaten a King's soldier with impunity, but to our amazement, our muskets became red-hot, and yet the powder did not discharge. We were obliged to drop our weapons on the ground lest our hands be burned.

By this time, the rest of the grey men had surrounded us and aimed what were clearly weapons at us, so we were obliged to surrender. One of the grey men collected our muskets, now apparently cool to the touch, and stacked them to the side of the cigare, while the leader indicated by gestures that we should accompany him within.

I drew myself up indignantly. "You must agree to treat us honorably according to the laws of war before we will go with you." I said.

On perceiving our apparent stubbornness, the grey leader gestured to one of his companions, who aimed his weapon at a nearby sapling. To our great astonishment, and without a single sound other than a low humming, the center portion of the sapling ceased to exist. It simply vanished, a fine powder fell about the base of the young tree, and the crown crashed to earth atop it.

"I think we should do as they indicate," said Athos. "Perhaps these are Scots after all; their weapons are certainly puissant, though of course I fear them not. For the time being, let us see if we can resolve this amicably."

With general agreement of the party obtained, I bowed to the leader and indicated that we would follow him within. After a moment's hesitation he bowed in return and turned to lead the way. His men followed with their weapons ready.

The interior of the cigare volante was most bizarre; the light was of a strange unnatural color and the ceilings, if that word can properly be applied to the odd convolutions that seemed to writhe over our heads, were distressingly low. The leader led us to a room where, I believed, we would be able to parley.

We entered a large chamber, well lit from curious glowing panes inset into the ceiling, and filled with strange devices. By gestures and pantomime we were made to understand that we should stand to one side of the room. Porthos was then encouraged to stand forth and several of the grey men approached him with strange devices. We prepared to defend our comrade -- "all for one", as we say -- but the devices seemed to be harmless. The grey men passed them over Porthos's generous body and twittered to each other in their strange tongue.

At this point Athos announced "I have a theory."

"A theory? You?" asked Aramis.

"Indeed, why should he not have a theory?" I replied. "Surely you are not the only one of us capable of rational thought."

"Well," said Aramis, "you have a good point. Athos, I apologize."

"That is well said. I always knew you were a gentleman to the core," said Athos.

"And I you." replied Aramis.

"But your theory?" I asked.

"How, my theory?" Athos said.

"Would you care to share it with us?"

"You wish to know what my theory is?"

"Surely I have been asking nothing else for the past hour?" I said.

"You have said next to nothing for the last hour," interjected Aramis.

"Well, be that as it may," I said, containing my irritation, for it would serve no useful purpose to chastise my friend, "please, Athos my comrade, share with us the fruits of your cogitation."

"I shall be happy to." said Athos.

"Well, then."

"Here it is. I believe that these are in fact not soldiers, but philosophers; natural philosophers to be specific. See how they examine Porthos, compare their devices, which, by the way, I believe to be philosophical instruments, and take note of the information thus gathered?"

"Ma foi!" exclaimed Aramis, "I believe you are correct."

"If that is true, then I begin to believe that we are in no danger, for once these grey gentlemen of science have completed their examination and learned what it means to be a French gentleman, we shall no doubt be allowed to leave in peace."

Just then one of the grey men brought one of their philosophical instruments over to Porthos and presented it to him for examination. Porthos looked it over and saw a tubular instrument, perhaps the thickness of a youth's wrist and two spans long, with a rounded end, and encrusted with curious nodules. An unmistakable handle, though formed for the smaller hands of the grey men, completed the device.

The grey man hefted it toward Porthos in an inquiring way. Porthos looked at us. We looked at him and shrugged. He shrugged as well, looked at the grey man, and nodded.

At once two of the grey men flanking him grabbed his arms and hauled him down with surprising strength. They bent him over a kind of bench, and fastened him down with straps of the same silvery material that made up their strange clothing.

A third pulled down his breeches, and the one with the instrument, well, my dear Capitaine, I will just say that there are some indignities which a gentleman cannot endure without his honor demanding satisfaction.

Porthos cried out in anger, and attempted to free himself. We, his comrades-in-arms, drew our épées without hesitation and charged the loathsome beings who prisoned our friend.

That is, we attempted to charge, but one of the aforementioned beings, alerted by the rasp of cold steel leaving our scabbards, turned to see what was afoot and, comprehending instantly our hostility, gestured with the arcane device he was holding and we found ourselves crashing into an invisible wall.

"Avert your eyes, my friends, for since we cannot stop our comrade's ordeal, we can at least spare him the indignity of witnessing it," I cried.

While we were able to avoid watching Porthos' ordeal, we were forced to hear his travails. First he cried out in pain, but after a while he was reduced to animal grunting noises, while the sound of his inspection continued. Finally, he cried out repeatedly to the deity, "Oh God! Oh God!" as though begging to be released from his agony.

After a wait that was long to us and must have seemed even longer to poor Porthos, he called out "You may look again, for they seem to have finished their examination."

Indeed, as we now saw, Porthos had been released and had adjusted his clothing to restore his modesty. He drew his cigar-case from his doublet and made as if to light one, but the grey man with the infernal instrument made a gesture of negation. Porthos shrugged and returned the case to its resting place.

Now the grey men seemed to engage in a colloquy, the subject of which I deduced to be ourselves, as they turned to peer at us from time to time, and gestured in our direction.

The grey man with the instrument which had lately so outraged poor Porthos' dignity pointed at Aramis, who drew back and hefted his épée, but another grey man, apparently the leader, took the instrument, examined its base and gestured dismissively at us, apparently not deeming the rest of our party worthy of their time.

As the grey men herded us out of their cigare, I remarked to my comrades, "I am not sure whether to be offended that the rest of us are not worthy of their attentions, or grateful that we do not have to undergo the humiliating experience poor Porthos has had to endure; I wonder that you can bear it, dear friend."

Athos said "What can we do to right this grievous wrong done to our comrade?"

Seized with a sudden anger, I cried "We must take these ruffians and show them that men of France are not to be trifled with!"

"Ruffians?" said Porthos, "They were not rough at all. Rather gentle, in truth."

"You must still be under the influence of their foul engine," I replied. "Come, let us storm their conveyance and take them by surprise!"

"Peace, gentlemen," said Aramis, "I do not think that would be a wise plan."

"How, not a wise plan?" asked Athos.

"Yes, please explain to us your objections." I said.

"Yes, please explain." I added.

"Ah," said Aramis, "You wish me to explain."

"Sacrebleu!" exclaimed Athos, "I nearly think it is an hour since I asked anything else."

"Actually, my friend, an hour ago you were saying..." began Porthos, but he was cut off with a sharp "Tais-toi!" from Aramis.

Taking a deep breath, Aramis explained, in this wise. "There are several reasons, which, if you will do me the honor of paying attention, I will enumerate. Imprimis..."

At this point I spoke up and said, "Aramis, if you will permit me to interrupt your lucid explication of our situation, I wish to make a remark."

Aramis sighed. "Pray make your remark."

"Very well, it is gracious of you to allow the interruption. My remark is this: Imprimis, to follow your schema, the cigare of the grey men has gone, and the question of whether to revenge our comrade's assault on them is thus, temporarily at least, moot."

Indeed as we had listened to Aramis, the hinged door had closed, and without a sound the entire cigare volante had risen from the ground to a height of about a hundred feet, and streaked away to the west.

"Alas, they are gone!" cried Porthos, "Gone without so much as a farewell." He heaved a sigh.

I consoled him. "My comrade, your zeal to avenge your indignity is commendable, and your disappointment in not being able to do so is understandable, but as Musketeers of the King, we have our duty to perform. We must put these creatures from our minds, and carry on with our mission."

"And we never even learned their names," said Porthos, hitching up his breeches.

"Whatever the proper name for these greys may be," declared Athos, "I am certain of one thing. They were no Scotsmen!"

"Indeed," replied Aramis, "They may not even have been men, as we know the name, at all."

Finally, Athos sighed a great sigh and said "Well, comrades, it seems our little adventure is at an end. Let us collect our muskets and return to our camp."

We met this suggestion with general agreement, and proceeded to recover the firearms we had dropped earlier. I found mine first, and lifted it from the tall grass where the grey man had stacked them. I examined it and was dismayed to see that the metal of the barrel had sagged as a bar of steel heated in a forge and held at one end in the smith's tongs will sag, the stock was charred black where it touched the lock, and the priming in the flashpan had melted to a grey ooze.

Whatever device the grey men had used to disarm us had not just caused us to drop our muskets, but had in fact ruined them for any use whatsoever. Luckily for us a musketeer is never helpless as long as he has his épée and his companions!

Thus, my dear Capitaine, we perforce entered a requisition for four new muskets, and I trust this account will explain the necessity.

Submitted with the most profound respect, by

your humble servant,
d'Artagnan.