Evening My Lovelies
Notes On Reviews:
pallysd'Artagnan: Thanks for the review - Yeah Porthos definitely isn't having the best time of things right now, plus he's been captive a while, which is why I mentioned the whole food thing. Despite his worsening condition there's nothing like a threat to his brothers to get him moving :D I'm afraid you're going to be waiting until tomorrow to see Phillip but we do get a hint tonight. Enjoy the new chapter! x
Issai: Thanks for the review - Aramis's skills will definitely be needed but as to whether they'll find him soon... well that remains to be seen :D We'll see Phillip more tomorrow but we're getting a hint tonight but he may very well die, I have no plans for him to make it to the end of the story. Enjoy the new chapter! x
criminally charmed: Thanks for the review - Bad guys might be on top for a while but they wont finish that way :) Enjoy the new chapter! x
Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Yeah unfortunately for Porthos, who has been held for a while now, his condition and situation is only worsening and his reaction to the news regarding D'Art only made things worse for him. Enjoy the new chapter! x
MicheeO: Thanks for the review - Haha so I see :D Enjoy the new chapter! x
WelshEssex (Guest): Thanks for the review - Nothing gets Porthos motivated more than his brothers in trouble :) He's been in Rocheforts grasp for a while now which is why his condition is so bad. Phillip isn't even aware that Damien is/was injured so our lovely musky has that advantage. Enjoy the new chapter! x
Lilac Lavender: Thanks for the review - Aww bit of extra cruelty on my part with the hunger bit then, at least you can ease yours, poor Porthos is relying on Rochefort to feed him and after the stunt he just pulled by kicking him... well I don't think Rochey will be in a giving mood. We'll be seeing what Phillip has planned tomorrow but we get Damien's take on things tonight :) Enjoy the new chapter! x
As always much love and many thanks for following/favouriting/reviewing/reading
Love you all!
Enjoy!
xxx
Chapter Twenty-Six: Trouble
"What do you think you're doing Constance?" scolded Damien once both he and the younger woman were safely inside the church he had called home for the last several weeks. He had no proof and couldn't get any without venturing out of said church's grounds, which would leave his charge without protection but he could have sworn he felt someone watching them when he had gone out to get Constance only minutes earlier. Normally he would have brushed the feeling off as soldier's inbuilt paranoia but after hearing what Constance had endured to get to him and the situation his friend's and brothers-in-arms now found themselves in he was concerned that his paranoia might be justified.
"I need to get to Athos," stated Constance defiantly, her eyes narrowing into a glare as she heard the musketeer in front of her sigh in frustration at her answer. "If not him then Treville… Porthos and D'Artagnan need help!"
"And how do you plan to get to Paris, on your own, with one usable arm, while Rochefort's men watch the roads and likely have orders to either capture or kill you?" asked Damien, he hated being so harsh with her but he needed her to understand the situation they were in and the consequences that could occur if she didn't think. Head over heart, he thought with a sigh, before internally chuckling as he realized he had unknowingly parroted the very phrase he had heard Athos try to instill, seemingly unsuccessfully if his constant reminding of it was anything to go by, in D'Artagnan.
"I don't know!" snapped Constance, her frustration at feeling so useless causing her temper to become even shorter than usual. "I have to do something!"
Sighing Damien pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing she would only continue to try if he didn't do something. "Fine," grumbled the musketeer a moment later, continuing quickly when he say the surprise, yet equally excited, look on the woman's face. "Two days," Constance's face fell. "You take two more days to rest that arm and for me to prepare for the trip and we'll head to Paris, I'm sure one of the priest's here has a map so maybe I can find us an alternative route, one that's less likely to be watched by Rochefort's men."
Knowing that she was lucky to get that Constance nodded eagerly, feeling hope fill her for the first time since she had woken up safe away from Rochefort's clutches.
"Your stubbornness knows no bounds I see," remarked a heavily accented voice, making the Gascon force his eyes open to glare weakly at the man standing in front of him, momentarily confused by the glimmer of respect he thought he saw in the man's eyes before it disappeared behind an emotionless mask. "The pain will only continue to get worse if you don't talk, you know this."
Part of D'Artagnan wanted to chuckle bitterly at that, to bring up all the times he had endured similar or worse pain than what he was currently enduring and had made it to the other side with his stubbornness intact but the slight movement he made to better face his captor sent a nauseating amount of pain shooting through his arms, making him groan in pain as his head flopped down to his chest as he tried to breathe through it.
He was almost glad for the pain though as over the last few hours he had noted a significant loss of feeling in both dislocated limbs and had been fearing the worse and so had been trying not to move in case it did more damage to his already badly hurt arms.
The Spaniard must have noticed the odd look in D'Artagnan's eyes as he looked ready to ask something when the door to the cell opened again, D'Artagnan, awake this time, instinctively tensed, eyeing the new arrival carefully as they whispered something into his captor's ears before passing over a bag, bowing once before leaving, his eyes never moving to the restrained Gascon hanging limply from the ceiling.
D'Artagnan watched as his Spanish captor moved, without saying anything, to the pulley system keeping him hanging. Unwillingly D'Artagnan felt a surge of fear rush through him as he tried to mentally and physically prepare himself for another sharp jarring motion like he had endured earlier but to his shock he wasn't stopped and crashed hard into the ground, the force sending tremors up his body and making him cry out in pain.
Without explanation the Spaniard began to remove the part of his restraints that kept his arms locked behind his back, D'Artagnan looked at the man with guarded curiosity that quickly changed to pain as, without warning, the man forced his left arm back into its socket, not even giving the Gascon a moment to recover before moving to do the same to the right, the young musketeer a trembling, gasping mess by the end of the ordeal.
"Eat," ordered the Spaniard, nodding to the bag as he stood up, "One hour boy," stated the man, his cold words freezing the Gascon who had began to hesitantly move towards the bag, "I will be back in one hour and if I don't get the answers I seek then… well lets just say I can do a lot worse then dislocating your shoulders."
With that dark threat the Spaniard left the cell, the sounds of the door locking echoing around the dark cell.
Now he was alone once again D'Artagnan let out a long shaky breath, relief mixing with pain as he hesitantly and gently moved both of his arms, whimpering at the residual pain even the slightest movement cause him. He didn't know what to make of his captors and he certainly wouldn't put it passed them to poison him but his thoughts always circled back to Porthos and Constance, both of whom were depending on him. He knew he would be of little use to either of them if he remained captured and he wouldn't be able to escape if he had no energy so, begrudgingly, he reached for the bag, his arms greatly protesting the movement. Inside he found two small bread rolls and a full water-skin.
It was the water that got his immediate attention and it took everything in him not to guzzle it down right away. The logical part of his mind, that strangely, and somewhat comfortingly, sounded like Athos, reminded him that he had no idea when he would next be given water so he best make it last. So instead of giving into his urge to drain it dry the musketeer instead to small sips as he slowly at the dry and slightly stale bread, the pain in his body reacting badly to the food, making him nauseous but he battled through it, knowing he would need the strength to endure whatever was coming next for him.
Unease had been growing inside him all day, ever since he had brought Constance inside. If the woman noticed it she was kind enough to stay silent but Damien doubted she missed how he was quick to keep her away from any windows that couldn't be covered or boarded up.
It was this unease that was preventing him from sleep and had him patrolling the hallways of the church's living quarters, hand resting readily on his blade.
He had just convinced himself to limit himself to one last loop before returning to his room when he heard the sound of a creaking floorboard further down the dark hallway. Gritting his teeth the musketeer silently pulled his blade from its sheathe before heading to investigate