Chapter Two

Without his sight, Aramis had to rely on his other senses. He listened out for conversations around him, but none of the men spoke. All he could hear was the horse's hooves and their occasional snorts. He tried to feel the different surfaces they crossed. He was fairly sure after they slowly moved through the wood they joined a rough road. His horse was urged to move faster.

The faster movement left Aramis disorientated. He trusted his horse not to act erratically but he still found himself clutching the saddle tightly.

He had no idea where they were being taken, or who was taking them. The blond man had given them no clue what was to happen to them. They were obviously wanted alive, but why did it take nearly thirty men to capture them. They were only two men, they were Musketeers but even with their training, they could not have outfought thirty men.

The sound the hooves were making softened; Aramis guessed they were walking over grass. His horse was stopped. He could hear men dismounting around him. Hands were on his, undoing the rope that had tied him to the saddle. He was roughly pulled from the horse, losing his balance as he reached the ground. A man on each side of him kept him upright. They firmly held his arms by his side, he was not given a chance to remove his blindfold.

The men holding him forced him forward. Aramis did not resist the men, his worry for d'Artagnan's safety at the front of his mind. There were noises around him. He sensed the rest of the men milling around.

The surface under his feet changed from grass to stone. He was stopped for a few moments. A squeaky hinge indicated that a door was opened in front of him. The next step had him stumble. His breathing quickened as the men holding him prevented him from falling. Several steps led him down to...somewhere. He could not help but continue to stumble down eventually being jarred to a stop when the steps ended. The sound had changed. Aramis was sure he was inside as his and his captor's steps now echoed around him. The atmosphere had changed, the sweet smell of plants and flowers had been replaced by the damp earthy smell of an underground room.

Another squeaky hinge made itself known. Aramis was pushed forward again before being released by the men holding him. A dull thud next to him made him look around before he flinched as the blindfold was pulled from his head. He blinked a few times as his eyes became accustomed to the light again.

What light there was, was dim, it did not take him long to get his sight back. The blond man was stood in front of him.

'Take off your doublet,' he said.

Two men stood either side of the blond man had their guns levelled at Aramis. Without speaking he undid his jacket and took it off. One of the men stepped forward and took it from him.

'I need his as well,' the blond man pointed to the floor.

Aramis looked where the man had pointed and quickly crouched down. D'Artagnan had been left on the floor, still unconscious. Ignoring the men around him Aramis gently turned his friend onto his back and checked the injury to his head. There was a bruise and some grazing where he had been hit, but the Musketeer was breathing steadily.

'Jacket,' said the man again.

'I need to treat his injury,' said Aramis, looking up at the man.

'Take his doublet off and I will have water and some bandages brought down for him.'

Aramis glanced at the men with the guns and his surroundings. They were in what looked like a cellar to a large house. There was no light other than torches. D'Artagnan and he were in a barred cell, the door of which currently stood open. The blond man and two of the hooded men were in the cell with another two men just outside. All were armed. All were watching him carefully.

Reluctantly Aramis moved d'Artagnan enough to be able to relieve him of his doublet. He gently lay his friend back down before handing the jacket to the same man who had taken his own.

The blond man glanced behind him and nodded. One of the men stood outside the cell entered. Aramis knew he had not hidden his shocked expression well when he saw what the man was carrying. A set of manacles with a chain of about two foot between them. The man approached Aramis and d'Artagnan. The men who were aiming their guns at Aramis took a step forward as if to remind him they were there. The man holding the manacles stopped in front of him and indicated for Aramis to raise his right arm. He did so, his wrist was promptly encircled with one manacle. The man crouched beside d'Artagnan and lifted his left wrist snapping the other manacle to him before retreating from the room.

Aramis looked at the manacles that were now keeping d'Artagnan and him chained together. They were rusty and looked old but they were still solid enough that they would not be easy to remove without the key.

He looked up at the blond man who was turning to leave the cell.

'What are you going to do?' he asked.

The blond man closed the cell door, the squeak of the hinge an almost ominous sound.

'The bandages will be brought down shortly,' he said.

All Aramis could do was watch the blond man go with the hooded men in tow. The sliver of light from outside that had been spilling through the open door disappeared as it was closed.

Aramis and d'Artagnan were left alone in the dim light of a single torch. Aramis still had no idea what was going on.

MMMM

'Where are Aramis and d'Artagnan?' asked Athos as he searched the garrison for their friends.

'I sent them off to deliver a letter. They won't be long...although I actually thought they would be back by now,' replied Treville as he descended the steps towards his Musketeers.

Porthos, who had been pouring himself a drink, looked up, 'where did they go?'

'The letter was addressed to Gervais Legrand. From the King, I don't think it was good news.'

Athos watched as Porthos' expression darkened, 'Legrand?' he said.

Treville nodded, 'do you know him?'

'A few years ago, when I was still in the infantry, he was in my regiment for a few months, fancied 'imself as an officer. But he was harsh, even the more strict officers found him over the top. They kicked 'im out.'

Treville shook his head, 'I don't know the name, I can't have crossed paths with him.'

Porthos continued, 'I kept clear of him, once we worked out he was prepared to hit anyone who displeased him most of us only went near 'im if we had to.'

'You don't think anything untoward could have happened do you?' asked Treville who looked concerned, glancing towards the garrison gate.

Porthos shrugged his shoulders, 'if the letter wasn't to 'is liking...but what's he gonna do to them?'

'They are late back,' sighed Treville, 'I...er...don't need either of you for a bit, if you wanted to go for a ride I wouldn't stop you. Perhaps first thing tomorrow morning?'

Athos bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the veiled instruction. Porthos drained his cup and put it down before turning to Athos.

'Fancy a ride out of the city? We should get an early night and leave at first light'

'Why not?'

MMMM

After the men had retreated from the cellar and left them on their own Aramis moved d'Artagnan, as gently as he could, to the wall of the cell. He had sat down, leaning against the cold stone and pulled the unconscious man closer to him, laying d'Artagnan's head on his lap in an attempt to make him comfortable. There was nothing he could do for his brother. If the blond man had been telling the truth and water and bandages were brought down to them Aramis could at least clean and dress the wound. It was not much of an injury, but, given their current circumstances, Aramis would prefer any injury to be cleaned and covered up.

Aramis lifted his right hand and looked at the manacle. It seemed odd that with so many men at his disposal the blond man had felt the need to restrain them in such a way. Had it been done to stop Aramis from leaving his unconscious brother?

He stared at the torch on the wall outside their cell for a few minutes. He had no idea what the time was. It had been mid-afternoon when they had left Legrand's house, Aramis guessed it was well into the evening as he sat on the cold stone floor in the dank cellar with only an unconscious, injured Musketeer for company.

A quiet groan snapped Aramis back to alertness. D'Artagnan shifted slightly and groaned again.

'Take your time,' said Aramis quietly.

D'Artagnan tried to push himself up to sit, only managing it with Aramis' help. The younger man blinked a few times, the pain he was obviously in showing harshly across his face.

'Can you remember what happened?' asked Aramis.

D'Artagnan looked at him for a few seconds. Aramis could see him thinking back, putting the last few minutes he could remember in order.

'Lots of men...one of them hit me...my fault for talking...sorry.'

Aramis smiled, 'you were only asking the same question that I was thinking,' he said.

The groggy Musketeer looked slowly around the room.

'I don't know where we are, or who has taken us, or why. And,' Aramis paused raising his manacled arm, 'I don't know why they have done this to us.'

D'Artagnan looked at his left wrist, he pulled at the manacle a little before reaching the same conclusion Aramis had, that the metal was still strong.

'Ransom?' he asked.

'I doubt it, the King wouldn't pay for our release. I don't get the impression it's personal either. I really have no idea.'

The sound of a door being opened caused both men to look up. Light footsteps could be heard for a few seconds coming from the opposite direction to the door they had entered by.

Gilbert appeared at the cell wall. Both captive men stared at him in disbelief. The young servant, bruises darkening on his cheek, looked at them.

He was carrying a tray with a jug and two cups. He placed the tray on the ground in front of the bars before glancing back towards the door he had come through.

'I can't stay long, they'll miss me,' he said.

Aramis helped d'Artagnan over to the bars of the cell.

'Are we back at Legrand's house?' asked Aramis.

Gilbert nodded before glancing back at the door he had come through. He reached into his pocket and produced a small vial of liquid, he reached through the bars of the cell and gave the vial to Aramis.

'I guessed that one of you was injured,' he said glancing down at the tray on the floor.

Aramis saw bandages neatly arranged next to a plate and the jug.

'That's a painkiller. It should help you,' continued Gilbert who was looking at the injury d'Artagnan was sporting on his forehead.

'Can you get us out?' asked d'Artagnan taking another step towards the bars.

Gilbert stepped back, 'he'd kill me.'

'You could come with us?' suggested Aramis.

'But the cook and the other servants?'

It was obvious the frightened young man could not help them. His fear, for himself and the other people under Legrand's employ, prevented him from doing anything. Aramis guessed the man had taken a big risk bringing d'Artagnan the painkiller.

'Please, don't tell him I gave you that…' said Gilbert, 'I need the bottle back.'

D'Artagnan nodded his understanding, he pulled the stopper from the small vial. He sniffed it before glancing at Aramis. Aramis nodded, he doubted Gilbert was trying to hurt them. D'Artagnan tipped the liquid into his mouth and swallowed, he pulled a disapproving face for a few seconds.

'Thanks,' he said, although he did not sound too sure.

Gilbert took the empty vial and slipped it into his pocket.

'When they let you go, don't stop,' he said hurriedly, 'keep running. They don't really want you to win.'

'What do you mean?' asked Aramis.

But Gilbert was already moving towards the door, he pulled it open and stepped outside looking at the man who was stood guard on the other side warily.

MMMM

Authors note: As this and the next chapter are both a little shorter than the rest, you can have chapter three later on today (or early tomorrow, depending on where you live).