This is a bonus chapter because I am feeling kind. Not that you will like where it ends. This story will be over soon and I have run out of ideas. If anyone has any story suggestions I would love to hear them.

The Cruel Sea

Chapter Nine

Athos opened the lantern and carefully lifted out the candle. He bent down and touched the flame to the first of the fuses. The fire took hold and began slowly to traverse the space leading to the stack of barrels. With quick strides Athos moved to the other end of the hold and repeated the process with the second fuse. In the gloom, the red and yellow flickering light almost seemed to presage the entrance to hell and a chill ran down his spine. He waited until he was sure the fire had taken hold before turning away. He blew out the candle and headed for the stairs.

"What's going on?"

The voice came from above him and he realised someone was standing at the top of the stairs. He clung to the shadows, hoping the man would come down to investigate instead of raising the alarm. He took a moment to mentally berate himself for failing to ask Porthos for one of his weapons. His only chance now was to launch a surprise attack. There were hurried footsteps on the stairs and a blur of movement. Athos leapt, swinging his right arm in the direction of the man's face. At least that was his intent but in the darkness everything was deceiving to the eye.

His fist grazed the side of the pirate's face without doing any significant harm. He slowed his forward momentum, crouched and pivoted, bringing his left leg round in a sweeping motion. There was a grunt of pain and he heard his opponent fall to the ground. His eyes were adjusting now to the darkness and he could make out the shape of a body sprawled on the deck. He threw himself forward and began to rain blows down on the prostrate man.

"Are you mad?" the man gasped. "The ship is going to explode."

"That's the idea."

Having overcome his initial surprise, the man began to fight back. Athos took a solid blow to the cheek which knocked him off balance. He then found he was the one at a disadvantage, lying flat on his back. He bent his leg and raised his knee, burying it in the pirate's gut. There was a gasp and a forceful exhalation of air. Athos sprang to his feet, arms swinging. A combination of right and left punches to the face drove the man to his knees. Being painfully aware that he was running out of time, he drove a forceful blow to the point of the chin. The man's head snapped back and he ungracefully fell to the ground. Athos stood, breathing deeply. In one quick movement he grasped the pirate's knife and used it to mercilessly. He could not afford for his victim to wake up and disconnect the fuses.

With a final glance at the stately progress of the flames, he headed for the stairs. He climbed to the lower deck and hurried to the ladder that would lead him out of the belly of the ship. When he emerged onto the main deck he saw that the men on watch were congregated around the rail staring into the water. He heard two shots and prayed that neither had hit its intended target. He ran to the opposite rail and executed a less than perfect dive into the water.

TMTMTM

Aramis surfaced to find Porthos floundering in the water beside him. He couldn't clearly see the expression on his friend's face but would bet that it was one of uncontrollable panic. He maneuvered himself behind Porthos and gripped him under both arms. He coughed to clear the water from his lungs.

"I need you to relax. Lie back. I'll support you."

Porthos continued to flail around, causing the water to splash up and threaten to overwhelm both of them. Aramis tightened his grip. He choked when a wave slapped him in the face and water went up his nose. There was a splashing noise behind him and d'Artagnan came into view.

"Porthos. Listen to me," he rasped. "If you don't settle down you'll drown both of us."

The body under his hands tensed and then, to his relief, Porthos stopped struggling. Aramis began to kick to propel them away from the ship while d'Artagnan kept pace with them. There was the sound of firing but, fortunately, neither ball struck flesh.

"Have you seen Athos?" d'Artagnan asked, his breathing uneven.

"No. Can you take Porthos' left arm? We'll make better headway if we're both supporting him."

He looked back towards the ship which wasn't receding as quickly as he would have liked. There was no sign of anyone else in the water and his concern ratchetted up. If Athos didn't get off soon, he would go down with the ship and that wasn't an outcome he was prepared to accept. Seconds later there was a loud explosion and the sea rose up in a solid wall of water.

"Take a breath," he said, before bracing himself for the impact.

They were driven deep underwater and he struggled to keep hold of Porthos. He could imagine the terror his friend was feeling and, truthfully, he wasn't doing a great deal better. Their downward descent seemed to last a very long time and he began to get lightheaded. As the sea settled above them, Aramis used the strength of his legs to propel them upwards. When they surfaced again all three of them were coughing and spluttering. All around them lay the debris from the explosion, including bodies, some intact and some not. There was no sign of anyone still alive. Aramis felt the bile rise in his throat.

The ship was in its death throes, the bow pointed downwards and the stern rising into the air. As he watched it slipped with tragic grace beneath the waves to become nothing more than another skeleton on the bottom of the ocean.

The moon emerged from behind a bank of clouds and lit the nightmarish scene with a soft silvery glow. Aramis shivered. His fingers were going numb and all the warmth had been leeched from his body. How much longer before his strength deserted him? Before that happened he had to save Porthos. He began to look around, finally spotting a large section of the hull floating about fifty feet away.

"Over there." He and d'Artagnan both began to swim towards it, towing Porthos between them. Once they reached the makeshift raft Aramis leaned over to gather Porthos' attention. "You need to climb onto it. We'll help you."

Porthos nodded and took hold of the edge of the wood. He hauled himself up while Aramis and d'Artagnan gripped his legs and lifted. It was difficult and ungainly and took a significant portion of Aramis' waning strength.

Once Porthos was safely positioned the big man held out his hand. "Now you."

Aramis shook his head. "Too much of a risk. We can't afford for it to upend. We'll be fine in the water." He held onto the wood with one hand while d'Artagnan swam around to the other side. He reflected that he really was very cold.

"I'm going to find Athos," d'Artagnan said.

"We should stick together," Aramis protested, even though he was just as eager to search for their missing brother.

"I'm not leaving him on his own." D'Artagnan's adamant tone showed the futility of arguing with him. "You stay here with Porthos. I'll find him and bring him back."

Aramis could only acquiesce. With a heavy heart he watched as d'Artagnan swam away from them.

TMTMTM

D'Artagnan was tired. The frigid water had chilled him to the bone and every stroke he made was an effort of will. As he got closer to the place where the ship had sunk he came across more and more bodies. He forced himself to check each one, never finding the man he was seeking. He widened his search pattern, wishing he had the strength to call out Athos' name. Eventually he came upon a scattered handful of survivors and those he kept well away from. However, they all seemed totally occupied in preserving their own lives and none made a threatening move in his direction.

He continued to swim. Ahead of him was a body lying face down. He saw the unmistakable pauldron and a surge of energy infused his limbs. He reached Athos and turned him over. Dark hair floated around a face which was ashen and still. In the shifting waves d'Artagnan couldn't tell if his brother was still breathing.

"Athos. Athos. Can you hear me?"

He patted one pale cheek but there was no reaction. He tried to feel for a pulse, being defeated by the lack of feeling in his hands. Despite the rational part of his brain telling him that it was too late, he couldn't give up. He drew back his hand and slapped Athos hard across the face. Nothing happened. With a sob, he drew his friend and mentor close and closed his eyes in despair.

Tbc