Chapter One
The simple village of Pinon was filled with a simplistic people who never promoted themselves in gaining popularity among the local villages around them. With no one to lead them, how could they? For years they tended to their lands and kept to their businesses, as if, they gave account to a nobility of some sort and had no desire to bring attention to their unruled people. They remained to be what they wanted to be: A simple people trying to live a simplicity lifestyle in a complicated world.
But greedy barons and spoiled sons always tend to make an uproar of simple things. For when Baron Renard looked at the simple village of Pinon and saw it's unruled people, his heart didn't bleed for the people -whose only wish was to remain in their simple lifestyles undetected by those in power- but for his son's desire to have more dominance over them.
And when the son demanded, the father unhesitantly delivered; even if it led to hurting those that stood in his way. Ones that included the stubborn residents of the village Pinon and it's unfaithful noble, the Count da la Fère, who was unexpectedly dragged into the midst of the baron's schemes.
It was the second time in the duration of only a couple hours, in where Athos not only had to readjust his eyesight and focus on the unknown surroundings that engulfed him, but also had to endure the tight bonding of rope around his blistering wrists.
Unlike earlier, when his embodiment of faithful villagers crowded around him in hope that he would save them from the curse of greedy nobles that were plaguing their land, the same people stood around Athos in hopelessness, silently wishing that they had never relied on the Count de la Fère to save them in the first place. The ropes that bound his hands in the air, gave all that watched his humiliation no hope at all.
Athos hadn't fully returned from his unconscious state when he quickly came to the realization of where he was and what exactly he was hanging from. For how long he had been hanging in this position already, he was unsure, but the sun that bore down on his defenseless body and the ropes that had the responsibility of carrying the entirety of his weight told him that it was long enough.
He struggled to remain focused on the situation at hand. The bruises on his side gave him a quick review of what had happened prior to his episode in darkness and had served to be a minor distraction to the emotional pain that exceeded much worse than any small bruise, but whatever drugs that were placed in his drink from the night before, they still had their effect on his body.
Bits and pieces of the last conversation that he held with his estate neighbors began to form together in the drugged head of his and seemed to result in it not being a pleasant outcome for him; hence the position he was in at the moment.
The people somewhat blurred in his vision by the sun's harsh rays, became clearer and so did their distressed faces that were less appealing than their annoying ones earlier. Athos hung in silence and spoke not one word in his defense as the spoiled son of Baron Renard stepped out from beside his seated father, who anxiously waited for the sight of blood, and walked toward Athos who was extended in the air by a crude piece of rope on a contraption near the village well.
The same dark eyes that the Baron had were replicated on his son that approached with no restraint in causing affliction to him.
"You can't do this!"
The yell came from Bertrand, the village innkeeper, who jumped out from his position among the crowd to stop the hand of the Baron's son Edmond, who almost had succeeded in striking their defenseless Count.
With a blind rage Edmond pushed the elderly man to the dirt without any remorse as Bertrand approached him and tried to pull him away from where Athos hung.
"Take your hands off me!" Edmond screamed like a immature youth and reacted as such when he sent the whip striking the back of the courageous man again and again; splitting the man's old and sunspotted skin with ease.
Jeanne was the next to emerge from the crowd, as she ran in defense of her father who lay moaning in the dirt, while Edmond continued to beat him with a savagery that was instilled in him from birth. The same spark of bravery was seeded by her father in her spirit, as she left all worries of what would result of her actions and focused on helping her father.
"Leave him alone," she yelled in rage while running toward the uncontrolled brat who didn't let up once from his endless attack on the poor man.
With no regard to her involvement, Edmond tossed her to the side without wasting another second in his beating of the lesser. He continued on until he decided that the man had received his fill, but still contemplated to beat him further after he had finished with Athos.
Kicking the broken man to the side and then turning to the group of villagers who watched in terror, he eyed everyone one of them, as if, they were animals about to pounce. He kept his whip raised overhead to serve as a threat and prevent any other disturbances.
"Anyone else who dares to disrupt me again, will receive double of what I given him." Edmond said in a dark undertone that plagued his soul.
He caught a glimpse of the young lady that had rushed over to save her father and decided to leave her lying beside the man he had beaten for just a bit longer. Other plans were designed in his sick brain for the discipline he yearned to give her afterward. He knew that the task at hand hadn't been fulfilled and he longed to draw the blood of a disgraced noble before anything else.
Edmond looked to his father for approval and received his curling smile and nod in agreement. It was all he needed before he turned around to face Athos once again, this time with a strong intent to bring the whip down on the man that stood in the way of him getting what he really wanted: Pinon.
Stepping up on the wooden pedestal, Edmond cracked the whip in the air to bring Athos to his senses. He smiled sickly as he roughly grabbed Athos' face and pulled him in closer.
"You gave up your title for this?" He sneered through his teeth trying to tempt the calm man to become enraged.
Athos only stared at him coldly while trying to remain being his dignified self. His anger stayed on his tongue and remained intact for the time being. He could do no more, but hang idly while the young man humiliated him in front of the people of Pinon that he once called his.
A people that he choose not to care for, or Pinon that he wanted to forget; both were facts that the people came to understanding about their now titleless leader.
The look of distaste that was written on his features and his brooding stare didn't need to use one syllable of any vocabulary to serve its purpose in making the boy enraged at his model control. Athos' eyes continued to burn holes into the younger man, as the whip succeeded at hitting its first mark.
The strike passed through his dusty white shirt -dirty from the previous beating he had received while thrown to the ground and already soaked from the sweat that the sun had drained from him- and bit into the skin at Athos' side. The blow wasn't struck hard enough to draw any blood, but it left its distinguishable mark. The bloodless sight wasn't enough to please the assailant, so he struck him a second time with much more force than before, as if, the first blow was just for practice. The result left Athos squeezing his eyes shut in a quiet pain for a mere second until the sensation passed.
Edmond smiled sickly at his pain and only desired to bring the whip down again and again on the renounced noble. He stopped in satisfaction of making Athos flinch once again and then proceeded with another blow. And then another. And another.
If Athos had only seen the Baron Renard's devilish grin that aligned his face in his front seat viewing of the flogging, he would have lost all that remained of his honor to strangle the man right there in his seat. He remained detained and bound receiving the abundance of discipline on behalf of his people that unpoliently involved him.
He focused on Edmond instead and quietly idealized ways in removing his existence off the earth. His deathly stare gave all reason in the world for the young man to be afraid of the musketeer that he was beating, but Edmond's obliviousness to who Athos was and what he was capable of remained unknown.
Every strike left its mark and every person in attendance cringed as the whip came down and did its damage. The sound of leather striking flesh was all that echoed through the village of Pinon, for no one desired to interrupt the brutal occasion in order to receive the whip on their own skin. The beaten man that still lay near the edge of the scene, was example enough.
A woman of red hair and ill fashioned clothes, that was appropriate for no dinner party of any sort, stood hidden away from the pool of events that floated around Pinon's village square that morning. Her distance away from the commotion gave her the ability to draw back the hammer of her gun -without bringing any attention to her whereabouts- and was able stay in her desired location in order to make a long distance shot. A shot not designated for the ignorant boy, but for a small strand of rope that kept the flogged man defenseless.
Athos, from his height above the rest of the crowd, could scope out the image of the mysterious woman that aimed her gun, not at him, but above his head. Her familiarity drifted at the edge of his mind like an unnatural fog, but his focus on the woman was short lived as the hand of his attacker was raised once again to bring down the instrument of torture on his body.
The bang that echoed through the village was dissimilar to the original crack of the whip that sounded throughout the naturally peaceful estate and it disrupted the boy from his short-lived enjoyment for the second time that morning. Edmond's whip struck the humid air instead as his subject had left his designated spot hanging in humiliation for all to see.
The shot that found its mark, cut the rope in two; dropping Athos to the ground with no warning and no possible way to keep his footing. His lack of strength sent him falling to the earth with such a dangerous thud that it left him lying in stillness for a brief moment of time. The extend of the damage soaked his off-white shirt and was clearly visible to all those that watched in awe as he dropped.
If it wasn't the gunshot that caused the Baron's soldiers to become frantic, the next word of news made them hasty in leaving the estate of Pinon behind.
"Soldiers are coming!" One of the guards alerted his master and his other comrades after turning around from his viewpoint in the woods, where horses and their riders were approaching their location at a frightening speed.
Baron Renard quickly became disheveled at the new development and easily came to the decision to pull back from their misdemeanors; not wishing to remain vulnerable to those approaching on horseback. His taste for blood had to remain on standby.
"WITHDRAW!" He ordered with a quiver in his voice. "We'll be back."
There was no argument against leaving the soon-to-be soldier infested village, as almost all of the Baron's men mounted their horses, including that of his son that still wasn't finished with his work. Edmond mounted hurriedly, but the sight of Jeanne, that still lay near her beaten father, reminded him of plans he had yet designed for her.
"Bring the girl," He yelled to two of his men nearby, who still had yet to mount their steeds.
They obeyed without hesitation and tightly grabbed the young girl who fought against them, desiring only to be with her father. The dust of the land lifted up and surrounded them as they pulled her away and her screams combined with the trodding of horses' hooves that were fleeing the scene.
"NO! NO!" Athos -now fully conscious- shouted his disagreement against the order from his place on the ground.
Jeanne's screams gave Athos all the strength he needed in order to pull himself off the dirt ground in one quick movement to try to stop the kidnapping from taking place. His body scolded him for making the rash action, but he continued to step forward as the horses started to pull away and Jeanne was lifted up on Edmond's horse like an animal.
"RENARD!"
Athos' scream was lost in the commotion of the events at play and he could only move so close to the riders who blocked his path deliberately. His bound hands and bruised body were no match against the swarm of Baron's men that stood in between him and the girl, so he walked in the midst of the crowd of villagers remaining defenseless.
While all had taken place, not one of the villagers of Pinon had defended the victims or even run away from the horrors of the day. They still stood in a disorderly line watching the outcome of the day, and only turned to watch the Baron and his men flee for their lives. Athos stood amongst the villagers in silence and watched the Baron's clan disappear in the darkness of the woods. He felt, as if, he was just as useless as the lot of them.
He didn't have to double guess on who was riding to his rescue, as he turned around to find four of his most trusted friends approaching on horseback. Treville, Aramis, Porthos, and d'Artagnan arrived wordlessly upon seeing the emotional damage inflicted on the people and the physical damage done towards Athos. When seeing his hurt friend, Porthos was the first to dismount his steed and cut the ropes that restrained Athos' inner fury.
Athos exchanged no words with the bigger man as the bonds fell away. The look in his eyes told Porthos everything that needed to be discussed.
"This might sting a little."
The warning came from Aramis, who stood behind the marred back of the brave Bertrand that was being attended to. The slashes that aligned the man's back were numerous and painful. A few bleed and some were most likely to leave scarring, but the man's years had seen worse days. Bertrand labored in his breathing as the damp cloth pressed against the wounds, but the pain was more welcome than the grief that struck his heart at his daughter's disappearance.
"What will they do...with my Jeanne?" He asked gasping in pain while Aramis continued to work.
Porthos standing very near to where Aramis was tending the wounds, shared a worried look with his friend while giving a bottle of brandy to Bertrand to ease the pain. He patted his shoulder without a second thought and decided to keep his mouth closed.
Having a good idea what the answer to the question was that Bertrand had asked, Aramis refused to make it known to the already uneasy father.
"Don't worry we'll find her," Aramis answered instead, giving a sense of encouragement to the man. The only worded hope that left anyone's mouth that morning.
Athos miserably watched the conversation take place while leaned up against a nearby tree to support his weight. He sulked in the darkness of his past and he wore the reminder of it on his face like a battle scar. Now wearing a long cloak to cover up the exchange he had with the Baron's son earlier, he refused to have his wounds treated by his friend and rather choose to stand away in a silent fury that everyone could sense, even young d'Artagnan who approached him cautiously.
"Athos…" d'Artagnan called to his miserable friend trying to bring him out of his thoughts.
He had seen the outcome of the punishment that was inflicted on Athos -without having to been present during it- and he realized that it was much more than a brutal whipping that bothered the man. He stepped closer and could already see smallish drops of blood escaping from the cuts from the rope that was once around Athos' wrists.
"You're hurt. At least let Aramis take a look," He tried to sound comforting, but it came out more bossy than he had hoped.
Athos answered with no words. An annoyed look was all that he gave his worried friend as he continued to stand unmoved by his request.
D'Artagnan heavily sighed in response to being ignored and silently regretted trying to help the man. They both stood in silence as d'Artagnan tried to place his next words carefully. He almost completely turned around to leave Athos alone in his misery, but otherwise choose to stay to delicately persuade his friend.
"Give up your title if it makes you happy. I mean that," d'Artagnan started. "But think about these people. They live on your land. They need your help."
Athos wasn't pleased at d'Artagnan's statement as he stared at him in dissension. He angrily threw back a piece of hanging cloth from the front of his cloak to the back, only realizing when he finished that his sore body didn't appreciate the quick movement. He closed his eyes for a second to contain his short-lived pain.
"I tried," Athos' snapped back, hinting toward the beating he received after interfering with his afflicted people. "I have nothing left to offer them." He finished dryly trying to close the talk between them.
He left d'Artagnan's side without looking back and walked away in a hidden pain his friends could easily detect. Porthos blocked his way without sympathy and refused to step aside.
"If I didn't know you better, I'd say that sounded pretty cowardly," Porthos scolded him while standing in his way.
"Get out of my way," He threatened while refusing to look up at the man blocking his path.
The towering man didn't move at his command and remained with his feet planted directly where Athos desired to go.
Porthos continued, unmoved by his friend's threat, "The Athos I know always fights against injustice, wherever 'e finds it."
The reminder sent a wave of guilt at Athos, but his stubbornness still refused to listen. He finally acknowledged the man in front of him by looking at him in a certain sadness.
"Not here, not this time," Athos answered firmly and bluntly, as if, he would never change his mind on the matter. His brooding eyes threatened the man to step aside without saying another word. A moment of silence drifted between them, then Porthos obeyed and let the man pass.
D'Artagnan already knew where the mind of Athos wandered. The taint that the village of Pinon left on his friend, was all connected to the woman known as Milady. The last time he had visited his former hometown, resulted in his spirit being torn in the same way that it was now. It was all common knowledge between their inseparable group.
"I thought Milady's influence over you was done," d'Artagnan spoke while following Athos' footsteps over to where he started to prepare his horse. He only voiced what all of his friends wanted to elaborate on, but lacked the courage. D'Artagnan, always full of courage and ideas, stressed out his opinion openly not fearing the outcome.
Athos tightened his horse's saddle aggressively and lost his temper halfway through d'Artagnan's comment only to scoff out loud. There was no response he had to offer, despite his anger bottled up inside, so he continued to look at him darkly.
"Let this happen and they become her victims, too," d'Artagnan added trying to make the man understand.
Athos understanding well enough, refused to listen anymore to the bickering of younger musketeer and stepped away from his horse to create a distance between them.
"Athos, these people have no other protection."
d'Artagnan continued to follow the musketeer, not leaving him alone to sulk in his heartache.
This time Treville, former captain of the musketeer regiment, stood in Athos' path, making the wounded man come to an annoying halt yet again.
"Only us," Treville said authoritatively, looking at his best soldier with a sympathy that tried to convince him to change his mind.
Athos couldn't argue with the captain. He was right. But he surely didn't want to deal with painful memories that Pinon only seemed to offer and have to live with all the regrets that came to the surface upon his return. The captain could never understand. No one would ever understand.
"This is not your fight," Athos reminded all his friends that seemed keen on staying.
"It is now," Porthos immediately answered back without delay. "No one 'urts my friends and lives to tell it."
"And I like it here," Aramis interjected his optimistic self, causing Athos to finally lose his interest in hearing anyone speak any longer.
There was no chance of talking his friends out of staying. Their staying was inevitable, but his was not. Athos turned his back on the four of them and stormed off; desiring nothing but silence.
"Athos," d'Artagnan called after him, already knowing that he wouldn't listen to reason.
Athos ignored his friend, grabbed the reins of his horse, and walked him near to the edge of the village in order to mount him in one quick gesture, but the injuries he had received not too long ago made it an unbearable task. He tried to pull up on the saddle, but stopped halfway as his sides burned in discomfort.
Holding his breath and gritting his teeth, were the only ways, in where, he was able to proceed in escaping the torture by mounting his horse and leaving the tiny village behind.
Porthos, Aramis, d'Artagnan, and Treville refused to watch as the victimized man rode off in a dark depression that was slowly eating away what they had left of their friend.
They didn't expect him to come back.