Musketeers No More
Jacqueline woke up to a splitting headache. The only
thing she knew was that she was lying on a hard stone floor, and a
door slamming closed had woken her. She tried to push herself up, but
her arms could not support her. She fell to her side, and her body
racked with pain, especially the side of her face. She managed to
touch her jaw line, gently caressing bruised skin.
The memories
began flooding back to her. She was caught. She was a dead
woman.
D'Artagnan. She will never again see her bloved d'Artagnan. She never really thought she would miss that thingyy smile, those arrogant eyes... his loving heart. Here she was without a weapon, without any means of fighting to the death. This was not the way she wanted to die. She wanted to fight with every part of her being, not locked up and helpless in a room of solitude.
"Pleasant dreams?" said a cool voice from the corner of the cell.
Jacqueline froze. The first time she had heard that voice, the first day she had ever come into contact with its owner, she had lost her father. Since then she had desired revenge against that man, seeking to take his life in return for her father's. Her throat felt scratchy and dry, but she did not want to seem weak in front of him. No, she had to pull herself together. "Cardinal," she said, addressing him. Once more she forced herself up, and despite her muscles screaming at her, and her head spinning in circles, she propped herself on her elbows and pushed her body back to lean against the cold cell wall.
"Jacqueline Roget," Mazarin stated. He paced back and forth throughout the entire width of the damp confinement keeping his hands folded in front of him. He could feel the glare, the hatred that was directed at him. "Surely, you are not still angry about that day. I nearly forgotten about that incident," he said, and turned to look at her. Sure enough, her almond eyes looked as though they wanted to burn through his body.
Jacqueline felt disoriented, and she couldn't see clearly. "How long have I been here?" she asked. The cell she was in was dark and bleak. There was only a door and a small window. It didn't look like the regular cells that were in the castle dungeons. It unnerved her that she was in the Cardinal's possession, and she had no idea where she actually was. It could very well be that no one besides Mazarin knew where this cell was.
"You have been here for two days now, Mademoiselle Roget," Mazarin continued. "The treatment you had undergone during your capture could have been well avoided if you only complied with the requests of my men."
His red robes made him stand out even more in the cell. Many of France's citizens look upon those robes and see a man symbolizing life and prosperity for their country, but Jacqueline only saw it as a mark of a murderer, a man wrapped in a robe that was stained by innocent blood. She decided that red was a fitting color for Mazarin and his men.
Jacqueline wanted more than anything to rip out Mazarin's heart, but she had neither a weapon nor the strength to do so. "What do you want with me? You've kept me alive for far longer than anyone would have thought. You don't wish to send the "murderer" of your captain to the gallows?" she spat. As she was speaking, Mazarin opened the door of the cell to let himself out.
"I merely wanted to see if you had awoken, Roget," he said, keeping his back to her. "In time, you will see." One of his guards closed the door behind him, leaving Jacqueline in total darkness.
"So you're saying that Jacqueline Roget and Jacque Lepont are one in the same?"
D'Artagnan, Siroc, and Ramon usually hated being confronted by the man in such a way, but today was different. Today, they were going to stand their ground whether their "father" would support them or not.
"Yes sir," said d'Artagnan. He looked straight into Duval's eyes, not backing down. He had told Duval everything that happened since day one of Jacque Lepont's appearance in headquarters.
Duval sat at his desk, bewildered, but not entirely surprised. He sat there in silence for a moment, pondering this new information. Siroc bravely stepped forward unable to take the awkward silence much longer.
"Sir, we have no intention of letting Jacqueline stay under the hold the Cardinal." He handed Duval a scroll of parchment. "Our actions from this day forward might dishonor everything we have done..." he started, but found that he didn't know how to finish the statement.
Ramon stepped up handing Duval parchment as well. "... as musketeers," he finished. "Sir, as of today, we are resigning from the musketeers. We will not let any harm come to you or to our comrades. We have decided to separate ourselves, so that we may be free from any hold that the laws may have on us." He stepped back in line directly side by side with Siroc.
D'Artagnan was the last to turn in his forms. He never thought that he would one day turn his back on the musketeers. This family, these men were like a legacy. But now he found something even more worthy to fight for. "Captain, we thought long and hard about this decision, and we are staying by it. We are grateful for everything that you have done..."
"You make sure that she is safe and alive," said Duval, stunning all three men. Clearly, that wasn't the response that they predicted. He stood and walked around the desk, looking at the fine men that he had the pleasure of raising and training. "I don't care if she was a woman, she was a musketeer and a dn fine one at that. Plus... she helped save my boy." Duval remember how horrifying that day was when he thought he had lost Andre. He looked at them with unwavering eyes. They were full of determination, and he normally wore this expression when he the most serious. "You three listen to me."
"Sir," they said in unison.
"Rumor has it that there are sacrifices being performed every full moon. There has been no proof, and no evidence of such a thing being true, but I would not put it past the Cardinal and his followers. You bring her back safe, you hear me?" Duval said, eyeing the three men. Deep down in his heart he did not want them to leave, but they already made their decision. Nothing was going to change that. But he could also see why they would sacrifice so much in order to save one friend. He only taught them drills, basics, maneuvers, and skill. To be taught to risk one's life for another... that took real spirit.
The three men saluted their captain, but he again surprised them once more when he wrapped his arms around all three of them. "Be careful... that's my final order," Duval said, and he quickly turned around and walk toward the back the of the room.
"Until next time captain," d'Artagnan said. He never thought he would ever leave the musketeers. He thought he would not only live as a musketeer for years to come, but to die a musketeer as well. He turned his back to Duval and left the office while Ramon and Siroc did the same.
Duval heard the door close behind them, and he let out a shaky breath. 'God be with you boys,' he said in a small prayer.
The streets of Paris blossomed with life as shops began opening to welcome wealthy customers. Produce merchants pulled out their carts full of vegetables and fruit, and other vendors set tables and such for materials or jewelry.
"The next full moon is tomorrow night," Ramon said.
"We have until then to figure out where Jacqueline is," Siroc followed. He looked to d'Artagnan. Things hadnot entirely cleared up between them, but they agreed that finding Jacqueline was more important than them. They -had- to work together; it was the only way to find her.
"We'll start now," d'Artagnan said, looking back to Siroc. He didn't hate Siroc; he didn't think he ever could. The man had no intention of stealing Jacqueline from him; he was only guilty of loving her. For the first time in days, d'Artagnan had shown him a sign of friendship. He lightly punched him the shoulder. "What do you say? Start in town and work our way out?"
Siroc grimaced a bit, feeling d'Artagnan hit a bruise in his shoulder, but he gave a small smile. "Sounds good. Let's go," he said. The moment he said "go" Ramon wrapped him and d'Artagnan in a fierce hug.
"I have been waiting for two whole days for you two to make up!" he laughed. It was the only relief all of them had felt in a while. "But I think I have a better idea than just looking around all over town for hours on end."
"And what would that be?" d'Artagnan asked mildly intrigued.
"Remember the young beauty that promised an evening to me days ago?" Ramon sighed. He had that reaction every time he thought of his brunette love.
Siroc lifted an eyebrow and shook his head. "Ramon this is hardly a time to be daydreaming about your companion victories. We have to get Jacqueline out of the Cardinal's..." but Ramon stuck up a finger in the air as if a bright idea had hit him.
"That's it, mi compadre!" Ramon said with a dashing smile. "The Cardinal's men happen to take quite a fancy to her and the other women that serve in Cafe Nouveau. I can ask her and her friends for a little favor." He waited to see if d'Artagnan and Siroc could figure where he was going with his little idea.
"I'm not quite following you," d'Artagnan admitted. "I myself am lost, Ramon," Siroc followed.
Ramon's face lit up even more. "I can ask her to slip a little more wine to the Cardinal's men. Get them talking. If I tell her what I need to know, I am sure that she will be able to find out where Jacqueline is being held. We just have to pray that they -do- know." He waited again for his friends' responses.
D'Artagnan thought about it for a moment, and looked to Ramon with a confident look in his eyes. "You know, that might actually work. How about we take a little trip to Cafe Nouveau?"
Siroc nodded his approval, but before they began walking he stopped Ramon. "But we're not going there to eat, Ramon." His Spanish friend was just famous for downing insane amounts of food into his stomach.
Ramon held up his hands defensively. "I know, I know," he said. "I will just find Gabrielle, and ask her the favor. Don't worry, she will not turn me down eh," he assured both of his friends.
