The Court of Miracles
Chapter Nine
The hovel was mercifully close but even so Aramis was exhausted by the time they arrived. The air in the small one-room home was filled with the sour smell of sickness and the sharp odour of loose bowels. It made Aramis gag and he had to swallow several times to get rid of the bile.
"This is Alice." Flea pointed to a tiny elderly woman occupying the bed. "And her daughter Renee."
Renee didn't look well either with a red face and pupils contracted to pin-points. She was so gaunt that Aramis didn't know how she was still functioning. Her arms looked like sticks thin enough to shatter and her collar bone pressed against the ragged material of her dress. "She's been ramblin',: Renee said. "Talkin' to my father but he's been dead these two years."
Aramis approached the bed and leaned down, supporting his weight with one arm. "Alice? Can you hear me?" Her extreme pallor made her look like a corpse and only the movement of her lips and slight rise and fall of her chest showed that she was still alive.
There was no reaction to his words. She continued to mumble and stare at something only she could see. He laid his hand on her forehead. "No fever." He straightened and ran a hand through his hair while he mentally reviewed the list of symptoms. "What has she eaten today?"
"I made broth. It wasn't much. Just a few vegetables but we had fresh bread to go with it."
"Did you eat it too?"
"She needed it more than me. I just had a few mouthfuls of the bread."
"Then you are fortunate. Where did the food come from?"
"Our men brought it through the barricade earlier today," Thierry said.
"What are you thinking?" Flea asked.
"I can't believe even the Cardinal would go to these lengths but I believe these people have been poisoned." He limped toward the only chair in the room and sat down carefully. His knee continued to throb relentlessly and his other injuries also pained him to the point that remaining upright wasn't an option.
"Poisoned?" Flea looked bewildered. "Why?"
"The King wants the Court cleared for redevelopment. They've tried blowing you up and starving you out. The Cardinal sees you as little more than vermin to be exterminated and poison is an effective way to do it."
"But no-one's died."
"Yes, that is strange. There is something more at work here." His throbbing head made it very hard to think.
"Can you help us?" Renee asked.
"I believe so. You need to make an emetic." He saw the confusion on everyone's face. "Something to drink to cause vomiting. It will flush the poison from the body. It will still take several days to recover and it won't be pleasant. I must caution you that your mother is very weak. The cure might be more than her body can stand."
"I reckon it's the only chance she's got," Renee said quietly. Tears glimmered in her tired eyes.
"How do we make it?" Flea asked.
"The most effective way is with castor oil and mustard."
"There's no castor oil in the Court. Only the rich can afford it."
"Then a solution of salt water should have the same result."
Flea nodded. "Thierry, spread the word and give orders to destroy all the food."
"What about him?"
"I gave my word. He is free. Now, go."
Aramis relaxed as much as his battered body would allow and wondered for the first time in hours where his friends were. Now that he had his freedom he needed to get back to the garrison before they did something rash. He decided he would just sit for a minute to gather his strength but his body had other ideas and he quickly fell into sleep.
TMTMTM
It took more than an hour to loosen the iron bars. They took it in turns to use their daggers to dig at the crumbling mortar, hiding in the shadows every time someone walked down the street. Their hands were cut and bleeding where they had nicked themselves with the knife or come into contact with the sharp edges of the stones. None of them complained as they worked tirelessly to reach their brother.
"It's very quiet," Porthos said.
"It's well after midnight," Athos pointed out.
"The Court never sleeps." Porthos put both hands on the bars, braced himself and exerted all his strength. He grunted loudly with the effort. They moved fractionally but not enough to let them slip through. He took a deep breath and tried again. This time one of the bars came completely out of its socket. A second one soon followed leaving room for them to crawl through. Once on the street they pulled up the hoods of their cloaks to shadow their faces.
"Which way?" d'Artagnan asked.
"There." Porthos pointed to the right. "Stay alert."
They occasionally heard sounds of distress coming from the buildings they passed but on-one appeared to challenge them. When they found the building that Aramis had spoken of they found the door open. They exchanged worried glances.
"Watch the street d'Artagnan." Athos stepped inside. "Aramis?" The question was met by silence. "Damn. They must have moved him."
"What do we do now?" d'Artagnan asked.
"Find Flea and make her tell us," Porthos responded.
"There's only three of us," Athos pointed out. "The longer we stay here the greater the risk."
"This is Aramis we're talking about," Porthos snarled. "I'm not leaving without him."
"I wasn't suggesting that we leave him. Just that we hurry. Lead the way, Porthos."
They had gone no more than a hundred yards before they encountered their next obstacle. A man walked out of a building and turned in their direction.
"Get off the street," Porthos urged.
They turned into the next doorway and hid in the darkness. The sound of footsteps approached and then receded.
"That was Thierry. He's the one that took Aramis," Porthos said angrily. "We should have slit his throat."
"I don't disagree," Athos said. "However, I suggest we check out the building he just left. That might be where they are holding Aramis."
After ensuring that the way was clear they continued their journey. When they reached the building Athos drew his sword. D'Artagnan held back to guard their escape route even though he was as keen as the others to see if their missing brother was inside.
Athos could smell sickness in the air. "It appears the Cardinal's poison is doing its work."
The doorway was covered by a moth eaten blanket, ineffective against the cold, and led to a single room. Athos scanned it quickly and his mouth tightened when he saw Flea. Her eyes widened before she stepped to one side to give him a clear view of a chair. The person slumped in it was instantly recognisable. Athos strode across the room, ignoring the other people, and knelt down. "Aramis!"
Tbc
