Chapter Two

The stumbling walk had been difficult. He did not know where he was, they had pushed his head down as they walked, probably to hide the fact that he was being held captive. Although Aramis doubted anyone about, at that time of night, would have interfered or bothered to alert anyone to their plight.

He was aware of being taken up a couple of steps and into a house, he could tell as he was walking on floorboards. Then he was forced down a few stairs, his legs uncoordinated on the uneven steps. He was still being held by at least two men. The whole experience was disorientating.

There was a pause and then he was pushed through a door. He was pushed against a wall and held there for a few seconds as his weapons belt was taken from him. He was pulled to the side and could hear a clink of metal. The men let him go. He tried to take a step forward but was prevented. He realised his manacles had been attached to a metal ring on a stone wall at waist height. He could move no further than a few inches forward before his bound arms complained at the strain it put on them.

There were noises to his right but he could not work out what was going on. In his current state, he could do nothing to protect himself. He breathed hard through the suffocating gag. Deprived of his sight, voice and freedom of movement he felt quite vulnerable. He had no idea what had become of Porthos.

He heard a door close, a key in a lock turn and bolts being drawn across. Then a few moments of silence. A brief rustling noise to his right made him aware that he was not alone. He tensed up as he heard footsteps approach him. He pulled away as much as he could, pressing himself into the wall, even though he knew he could not escape.

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Porthos was pushed against a wall, he could feel the gun pressed into his side again. He stilled, to show his compliance. His weapons were taken from him and the rope that bound his wrists was removed. One by one the hands that were holding him against the wall disappeared. Only the gun remained, he could hear the men retreating from the room. The gun was removed and a few seconds later he could hear a door being closed firmly, a key being turned and bolts drawn across.

He waited a few second unsure if he was alone. He reached up and pulled the sack from his head. The room was dimly lit by a small window high in the wall. He glanced round and saw that he was not alone. Aramis was stood to his left. His arms were still behind his back, Porthos realised he was still restrained. He walked toward him pulling the gag from his mouth as he did so.

Aramis flinched away, pressing himself into the wall, like a trapped animal, his breathing fast, when Porthos put his hand out to remove the sack covering his head. Porthos quickly said, 'it's me, it's OK.'

It took Aramis a few seconds to register that it was Porthos and not one of their attackers, he visibly relaxed and moved away from the wall. Porthos pulled the sack from his friend, who took a few moments to focus, blinking as he did so. He looked confused.

Porthos reached up and started to untie the gag saying, 'I don't know why they untied me and not you.'

Once free of the gag Aramis looked around the small room saying, 'any idea what this is about?'

Porthos shrugged his shoulders and moved to look at the restraints holding his friend. He tugged at the manacles and the ring on the wall. His friend's wrists were already marked from the sharp metal. Aramis could not move from where he was chained to the wall, there was no slack on the chain, he would not even be able to sit on the floor.

'You aren't going anywhere,' he said with concern.

'Can you get the door open?' asked Aramis hopefully.

Porthos moved to the door and tried the handle, they both knew it was locked having heard the key turn. Now they knew it was a solid, heavy door; not easily broken. Porthos turned back to Aramis and unnecessarily shook his head. There was no way out. Porthos wondered how long they would have to wait for their captors to return. He looked about the room and spotted a table and chair in the far corner. A jug and a cup sat on the table. The jug contained water.

'Good of them to leave us something to drink,' said Aramis.

'Yes, but that does imply we might have a bit of a wait until they come back,' replied Porthos.

Porthos was looking at the table and then back at Aramis, he had an idea. He moved the jug and the cup and put them on the chair. He started dragging the table toward Aramis.

Aramis looked confused and asked, 'what are you doing?'

'Sorting out something for you to sit on. We don't know how long we will be here and you can't stand like that for hours.'

He manoeuvred the table to the side of Aramis who smiled, 'at least one of us is thinking ahead.'

Aramis managed to sit on the edge of the table without too much difficulty. He was obviously not very comfortable with his arms pinned behind him, but at least now he could sit. Porthos retrieved the water and hopped up onto the table next to Aramis. He poured water into the cup.

'Want some?'

Aramis looked at him, 'I would, but you will have to help me.'

Porthos smirked, 'I know.'

He held the cup to Aramis' lips whilst the bound musketeer sipped the liquid.

'Thank you,' said Aramis with a sigh.

'So, what did you do?' asked Porthos.

Aramis looked at Porthos puzzled. Then realised what he meant, saying, 'I do not believe I have upset any husbands lately.'

Porthos smiled for a few moments, then said seriously, 'I think they were only after you.'

Aramis did not respond, clearly trying to think of a reason why.

'One of them said they would kill me and leave me where I fell if I did not stop struggling. I think I was only taken because I was with you.'

'I really have no idea what they want.'

'I wonder where d'Artagnan is?'

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The creak of a foot on the stair caused d'Artagnan's mind to run awash with different thoughts. Could he take on whoever was coming? Could he get the door open in time and then have help from his friends? What shape were they in? Could he get back out of the window before he was seen?

If he was seen but managed to escape Porthos and Aramis might be moved elsewhere or worse. He must not be seen, that was more important than anything. Another creak on the stairs focused him, he looked about. The other door. He reached for its handle and threw up a silent prayer that the door was not locked. His prayer was answered. And the hinges on the door were silent. As he opened the door he realised it was nothing but a small empty cupboard. It would do for now. He could hide in the tiny room until the danger had passed. He slipped in. Unseen.

As he silently closed the door behind him he could hear someone finally descending the stairs.

'I want someone here all the time. They cannot get out but he may want to talk…after a bit of persuasion,' d'Artagnan could hear a smirk behind the menacing voice, 'but I doubt he will talk straight away. You and Paul can take turns. But there must always be someone here until I tell you otherwise.'

D'Artagnan wanted to curse out loud. What had he done? He was now as much a prisoner as Porthos and Aramis. He could not risk leaving the confines of his own little cell. He would be seen. He was stuck there.

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D'Artagnan cursed under his breath for what must have been the hundredth time. He was stuck in the cupboard. He could not help his friends and no one knew where they were. He had managed to crouch down and peer through the keyhole of the door. He could see a man sat by the door to the room that Porthos and Aramis were being held. The key to the lock tantalisingly close, hanging from a hook above the man's head.

He had heard a few muffled noises from the room but could not make out anything distinct. He was hopeful that they were not injured or incapacitated.

The night time darkness had given way to a bright dawn a while ago. D'Artagnan became aware that he was actually quite hungry now, the nights activities helping him work up an appetite. He was also thirsty. This was not helped as he had seen the man in the corridor taking long swigs from a wine bottle. D'Artagnan would just have to wait for a chance to escape, he knew he may not be able to get Porthos and Aramis out at the same time, but if he could get away unseen he could get help.

Someone was coming down the stairs. Four men appeared around the corner. The first three he recognised from the night before, the fourth was clearly a man of wealth. He was dressed well and had an air of aristocracy about him.

'Briand, I trust these men have been treated well?' said the fourth man.

One of the other men replied, 'As well as can be expected, Monsieur Ruiz, they fought back so we had to restrain them…you did say you would let me deal with their capture and the interrogation. Those were our terms.'

D'Artagnan recognised the man's voice as the one who had paid off the kidnappers and left the guard outside the room.

The wealthy man looked annoyed, 'Yes, but they are musketeers. It is unfortunate that you could not get Aramis on his own, two missing men will cause more interest from Treville. They will be searched for...now, shall we begin our questioning?'

Briand, who looked every inch a hired thug, snarled back at Ruiz, 'my methods of extracting the information will not go down well with you. You shouldn't have come here. I could've got the information and reported back to you.'

'I have told you, I expected you would have to…persuade…the information out of Aramis, but I do not expect you to leave either of them too badly hurt. And I have certainly not paid you to kill anyone.'

D'Artagnan did not like the sound of this, his friend's captors were at odds with each other. Briand clearly wanted to take a more physical approach to whatever they had planned. He wondered what information they thought Aramis had. He was not aware of his friend being party to anything that the rest of them were not.

Briand had taken the key from its hook and was unlocking the door and drawing back the bolts. He stood by the door and raising his voice said, 'stand back from the door or we will shoot you, I've no problem taking you out. There's enough of us out here that any attack on us will be pointless.'

One of the men who had descended the stairs with Briand and Ruiz raised a gun and stood by the doorway so that he would be in full view of Porthos and Aramis when the door was opened.

Briand and Ruiz entered the room with two of the other men. The man with the gun stayed by the open door. D'Artagnan would not be able to slip out with the gunman standing in the corridor.

He could hear muffled voices coming from the room, he recognised Aramis speaking. At one-point Aramis raised his voice and sounded agitated. There were also a few sounds that could only have been punches being landed. He could make out the sound of Ruiz at one point, he sounded displeased.

A few minutes later the men left the room, locking and bolting the door again. The key being put back on its hook.

'Was that entirely necessary?' asked Ruiz, he looked quite pale, his voice trembled as he spoke.

'Do you want the information or not?'

'Yes, but you did not have to be so harsh, I am sure Aramis will talk…although I am surprised he has not told us what he knows already…'

'…he is a soldier, and so's the other one…he'll talk. You just have to accept that it will get dirty before you get what you want…that's what you paid me for.'

'Yes,' said Ruiz as he walked away and up the stairs.

Briand turned to the man with the gun, 'Paul, take over from Jean, remember if he wants to speak to us, come and get me. He won't be ready yet, it will probably take another go. But he will tell us what we want to know.'

Briand walked away with Jean and the other man. Paul took up the spot vacated by Jean. D'Artagnan quietly settled down to wait. He could only guess at what had gone on in the room behind the locked door.

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