Trying to keep her feet Ariane ran to keep up with the Red Guard that had her by the wrist with an iron grip. His long strides made her stumble and every time she did he jerked her forward, never slowing, never looking back.
She couldn't help wonder where he was taking her. He had announced she was being arrested for vagrancy but she recognized the direction he was going and hoped she wasn't right. Would he really take her to the Chatelet just for that? Only the worst criminals were brought there, that much she knew. She also knew what happened to women who were sent in there and it made her shudder.
The guard's voice, barking an order at some men in front of them, brought her out of her thoughts. She looked before them to see four men, three dressed in the blue of the Musketeers, standing in their way.
"Out of the way, Musketeers," he barked at them. The animosity between the Red Guards and the Musketeers was legendary. If they got into an altercation perhaps she could use at her chance to escape.
"Why so rude, Andre?" One of the men said, a mocking, merry, tone to his voice. "It doesn't befit a gentleman of your status."
The tall, darker-skinned man, laughed a boisterous laugh and the other two men let smirks grace their faces.
"I'm taking this one here to the Chatelet," he said pulling her forward, situating her between them and him.
"The Chatelet?" The man with the beard questioned calmly. "She doesn't look like the most dangerous criminal in France. Are you below your quota for the month? Or am I just grievously mistaken?"
Even though he was trying to help her Ariane bristled. He didn't even know her, how did he know if she was a dangerous criminal? For all he knew he could be. But more than how he presumed to know her she couldn't shake the feeling like she knew the man.
"She is a vagrant and a repeat offender. I am making an example of her."
"Surely a warning would be good enough," the smiley one said, "I'm sure you meant no harm. You'll go home if this nice man lets you go, right?"
It took a second for Ariane to realize he was speaking to her. But before she could reply the Red Guard pulled out his rapier.
"Don't tell me how to deal with my prisoner!"
"Oh dear, are you sure you really want to do this?"
The Red Guard lunged but the Musketeers made quick work of him. They quickly disarmed him and sent him on his way. But before he left grabbed Ariane by the shoulders and brought her face close to his. His embarrassment and fury were clear on his face. She held her breath, waiting to face his wrath.
"Don't think you are safe, girl. The next time I see you I will lock you in the Chatelet myself and throw away the key."
She recognized his threat as an empty one, probably due to being embarrassed by the Musketeers, but she still feared him.
He shoved her away, throwing her onto the ground and stalked around.
The youngest man came towards her and offered his hand. She took it and brushed herself off.
"I'm sorry, mademoiselle, for his rudeness and cruelty. Please accept my apology," the smiley one said, sweeping off his hat and bowing.
"I am Aramis, this is Porthos, Athos and our friend and compatriot D'artagnan."
"I am in your debt monsieurs. Thank you for your help." She said, curtsying. She turned to leave, wanting to leave as quick as possible when one of them cleared his throat. She turned, slowly, for if she was correct in what she thought was coming she was not looking forward to it.
It had been the one named Athos who had called her back. She stared earnestly at his face, not able to place how she knew him. She swallowed and waited for him to talk. He took his hat off and glanced uneasily at his friends, if she read him right.
"Mademoiselle, that man's threat was not an empty one. He will be back to bother you again. I'm sorry but unless you want to avoid that you had best come with us."
"But, but you said I could go home."
"Indeed, and I hope we can fulfill our word. But we would not want you to be bothered when we cannot help you. That is why we would like to take you to our Captain to be pardoned, that way should you ever run into that man again he cannot touch you."
Ariane didn't want to go near anyone high up in the French government, certainly not the Captain of the King's Musketeers but she saw little choice. In refusing the men she would have to explain much more than she wanted.
With a sigh she acquiesced and followed the men.