"Where on earth do you think you're all going?"
Fouché's voice was like ice. It was enough to paralyse Cosette as a wave of panic surged within her, muting any euphoria she had felt so far at their otherwise effortless escape. Something inside her faltered at the sight of the man himself stood blocking their means of escape.
"Ah, Fouché, we meet again. I am glad. For a moment there I thought I wouldn't have the chance to say farewell," Percy sniped, his cheery tone dripping with sarcasm. Though subtle, Cosette would have had to have been blind to miss the way her father's spine straightened, his shoulder's tensed as if preparing to strike.
It didn't make any sense. Even through the ringing panic in her ears, Cosette knew she had planned this escape meticulously. Fouché wasn't supposed to be here. In fact, there wasn't supposed to be a new guard rotation for another few minutes.
That was all they had - their only window for escape, and it was getting narrower with every passing second. They didn't have time for this unforeseen interruption.
"What can I say, Sir Percy? I would never dare dream of refusing you such civility - after all, we have become well aquatinted these past years," Fouché purred, slowly stepping closer to the trio. Close enough for the blade in his hand to flash in the dim light of the wall-torch. As if the man himself hadn't been enough of a threat, this sudden addition only re-enforced the warning that they needed to leave - and fast. "Alas, it is not sentimentality that bids me prevent your departure. Our Emperor has no desire to see you leave France unless it is in a coffin."
The image invaded into Cosette's mind with horrific vividness. She would never allow that to happen. Never.
As if also sensing the need to remove the threat and fast, Andrew stepped forward, sword ready to strike. However, he was stopped as Percy shook his head. His trembling arm reached out to halt his friend.
"Oh no, this one's all mine," Percy grinned deviously.
His hand extended out in silent invitation. Andrew knew instantly without words what his friend needed, which was why he drew his sword and handed it to him.
Percy grinned, swivelling his wrist in a clear attempt to intimidate his foe. No matter how tired he was, or the fact he'd clearly been treated less than civilly since arriving in this prison, his abilities were as strong as they'd ever been. Fouché had made yet another error in challenging the English hero.
He nodded in open invitation, even bowing mockingly before side-stepping Fouché's first blow.
It was as if someone had lit a match in a tinder box.
The air was suddenly filled with the clashing of steel, footsteps dancing upon the flagstones, as well as grunts and curses. Cosette didn't know where to look. Part of her was transfixed, whilst another part felt too ill with worry to dare watch. She didn't know how Andrew did it.
Her father was the first to make a hit, scratching a thin line across Fouche's arm as he struck. Blood was obvious as it seeped through the fabric of his coat, making a dark stain that had the man hissing in from the sting.
However, he didn't let Percy press his advantage as he swung back wildly, forcing him off balance and on the retreat. Percy shuffled back with as much grace as possible before being able to regain the upper hand and slam his fist into the man's face. It took more than that to distract Fouché though. There was a reason the Emperor had made the man his chief of security and head of his intelligence services.
He was a warrior. A ruthless, killing machine.
It was a fact Cosette was reminded of as Fouché chose his moment well. With incredible speed and precision, she watched him execute moves she'd never seen before and with great effect. Her father could only respond, rather than anticipate his enemy's moves.
For a moment - and just a moment, mind you - there was genuine panic in Percy Blakeney's eyes. He had never liked to be on the defence, to surrender control to his opponent. It meant he was at the mercy of Fouché's movements.
It was the only reason Cosette could think of to explain the next minute, as she watched in terrified awe.
Not many men in the world had the power to lock swords with Percy Blakeney, yet that was exactly what Fouché did, twisting round and snagging his sword with Percy's forcing him to hold off the blade that was otherwise poised over his head like an eager executioner.
Both men's arms shook from the sheer strength they exerted, trying to overpower the other.
"Surrender," Fouché taunted, his eyes wild with rage as he stared at his prey. "Surrender and I will make it quick - for all of you."
"My sins are mine," Percy hissed, "Mine and mine alone - not my daughter's, or my family's. You should have never drawn them into this."
"You drew them into this, Sir Percy, not I."
"Only a coward strikes his enemies' loved ones, rather than face them, man to man."
A cry escaped Percy's throat as he shoved forward, dislodging his sword from Fouché's and sending the man staggering backwards to the wall. He was trapped and the panic in his face said as much as he dodged Percy's next blow, striking wide as he tried to regain the upper hand.
The urge to leap into the fray was all-consuming. It was only the grip Andrew had on the back of her coat that kept Cosette rooted to the spot. This fight was her father's, and his alone. She had had her turn before, and as hard as it was to remember, this was about more than just her abduction… this feud, the years of life and death, of cat and mouse, of the endless pain and suffering… it had bubbled violently into this one moment.
It was not her place to disturb it. Instead, she watched in muted horror, fists clenched as she waited for its eventual conclusion.
Thankfully, she did not have to wait too long. There was merely a flurry of blows, of parries, before finally, Percy hit his stride.
One. Two. Three.
Each blow followed the other in a terrifying haze. There was more speed and ferocity in him than Cosette had ever witnessed before. He resembled a tiger more than her father, lashing out at his prey with savage determination.
Fouché never stood a chance.
He was frantic as he felt his control slipping. Every blow, he was forced to block as he staggered further and further towards the wall. His space was dwindling as was his ability to operate within it. Inevitably, he became trapped.
"Please," he croaked as he hit the wall with a resounding thud. His arms flew upright like wings trying to take flight as he watched Percy lunge. He waited for the sword to run him through… yet it never came.
Nervously, Fouché dared to open his eyes.
He glanced down.
He watched the blade positioned over his heart waver as Percy held it there, in deliberate torment.
One push.
That was all it would have taken to end this permanently. To kill him and let their feud die in the tunnels beneath the Tuileries palace. A lesser man would have relished in the opportunity presented to him, yet Sir Percy was not a lesser man.
"Please?" he repeated softly, but with utter iciness in his veins. "Please what? Spare you like you refused to spare my family? That's a bold request."
Fouché whimpered. His eyes were wide and Cosette almost swore she could see his heart leap out beneath his now exposed chest. "Yes… please. Spare me, I beg you. I'll never come near your family again."
Sir Percy paused. "A tempting offer but a little mistimed, my dear chap," he snapped mockingly. "You were never a man of your word. It'll do you no good now to throw it about like a bargaining chip."
It was then Cosette felt her blood turn to ice. Her heart stopped as she watched in mute horror. Could her father do it? Could he kill a man, like this? Consciously, and not in self-defence?
Then again, was it not self-defence to rid themselves of such a vile creature once and for all?
There had more than enough bloodshed since they'd stepped foot on French soil. There needn't be any more, even if a small part of her whispered from the dark depths hidden beyond her soul. Maybe his death was a blessing in disguise…
"I promise," Fouché tried once more.
Fortunately, Cosette was spared the decision of whether or not to trust him. It was her father's and her father's alone as he stared down his blade.
He smirked. "You don't deserve such a death, to become a martyr to your beloved cause. No, instead, my dear Fouché, you shall live. Live and bear witness to the shame of your final failures, knowing you could never catch the Pimpernel."
Fouché eyes widened in disbelief. However, a swift blow to the head sent him slumping to the floor. Such a terror, yet he looked so mortal lying on the floor, out cold, like an abandoned sack of potatoes.
"There - that should allow us ample time to leave this horrendous place." Percy sounded so calm as he spoke as if it was the weather he was discussing and not the battle that had just taken place.
Andrew blinked. He didn't seem to share Percy's non-chalantism. "We're just leaving him like this? Unbound? Alive?"
"We don't have time to waste with him," Cosette urged, even if part of her was tempted to lock the man in his own cell or kick his prone figure. Instead, it took every ounce of her self restraint not to give the man any further attention as she stepped over him and toward her father. "We need to go. We've wasted too much time as it is. The others will be waiting for us."
"You're right."
"I know. I usually am."
Andrew chuckled under his breath as he looked back to his friend and leader. Percy also couldn't appear to resist the urge to smile. "Whilst it's reassuring to see my daughter has been blessed with the Blakeney modesty, we really should get moving."
"Then let us move," Andrew agreed.
With that, they ran.
They ran as fast as the three of them were able, not stopping to look back. They burst down the corridors and back out of the winding labyrinth they were in. Cosette hadn't truly realised how dark the dungeon had been until she made it to the top of the stairs, and was blinded by the mid-morning sun glaring down at her.
Her father also winced, squinting as he tried to properly assess the situation ahead. He trusted both his rescuers explicitly though, a fact made clear by the fact he allowed them to lead the party back through the palace corridors and toward the front courtyard they had previously entered through.
No one gave them a second glance as everyone hurried around in their own frantic panic. The corridors and palace itself were awash with panic and chaos, servants and guards hurrying back and forth with buckets of water and ordering each other about.
"I'm assuming the others are around here somewhere?" Percy sighed, not sounding the least bit surprised by the chaos. Where one of them lead, the others usually followed.
Andrew only nodded. "They should be making their way across the courtyard to us as we speak if their distraction still holds."
Percy's eyes flickered to the roaring blaze, clear through the windows. The amusement was evident. "Discretion never was your strongest suit."
"Are you complaining?" Cosette teased, gesturing to the open door ahead. "We have horses waiting just down the river from the gate. We only have to make it out of the palace courtyard and we're clear."
Easier said than done.
Then again, at least the others appeared to be doing their very best at providing the three of them a decent chance at escape. The stench of smoke was thick in the air as the flames burned harder and stronger. The minute the trio stepped out of the building, they coughed as they tried to shield their faces from the worst of the stench and the suffocating ash that drifted on the breeze.
The entire far wall seemed to be consumed, as were the buildings and rooms behind it. What's more, it seemed to only be spreading, a theory confirmed as a sudden loud bang filled the air. Flames burst higher and ignited the other side of the building in a wall of heat that licked at Cosette's skin.
Perhaps she hadn't been as clear as she'd thought after all when she'd been explaining about how much gunpowder to use. Oh well. It was too late for regrets now. They'd come this far. If Hastings and Tony had got a little over-enthusiastic then it wasn't her fault.
A smile flickered on her lips as she hurried down the stone steps and out into the fray of bodies and smoke beyond.
Then she heard it.
A voice rang loud and clear into the courtyard.
A voice that was horrifically familiar to her.
"STOP THEM! THE PIMPERNEL IS ESCAPING!"
"Fumier," she hissed silently.
It seemed to take an aeon for his words to register with the masses of guards and servants amongst them. It seemed to take even longer for the guards to follow his outstretched finger, pointing directly at the retreating figures.
Cosette cursed.
She should have known Fumier was here somewhere… She had hoped they'd have had a minute or two more before he and the next guard change discovered their escape or Fouché's unconscious body. Clearly, this was not meant to be. She could only thank the lord Chauvelin seemed to be absent from this tableau.
Instead, she ducked as the first shot fired from a guard who had drawn his pistol. The men around him suddenly seemed to realise what was happening as well as they followed suit, drawing their blades and darting towards them through the confusion. Needless to say, the crowd began to panic, screaming as they darted to avoid being hit.
It the courtyard had been panicked before, it was pure pandemonium now.
You could not see the wood for the trees, so to speak. Buckets went flying as people abandoned all efforts at stopping the blaze. Their primary concern was now for their safety as guards and people alike turned on one another, confused as to whom they were supposed to be arresting. Fumier's frantic orders were hardly audible as he tried to retain a semblance of control.
Cosette snarled. She'd escaped his clutches once before, she could gladly do so again.
"This way!" Andrew bellowed, snatching her hand in his and pushing Percy forward. The Blakeneys could see the route he had planned as he began to duck and dive between people, keeping their heads low. They were easily manoeuvring their way to where the crowds were thinnest, using bodies as shields as they tore toward their escape.
Thankfully, as if reading their minds, that was the moment the others chose to make their valiant return.
The heavy iron gates burst open with a terrific bang as yet more smoke clouded the air. Cosette gasped, knowing exactly who it was that then burst through, like the knights of the round table.
There they were: all the others, swords drawn and pistols blazing.
"Percy! You made it!" Armaund boomed, the first to notice the three of them just ahead. A laugh accompanied him as he plunged into the fray, knocking back the guards who tried in vain to tackle the sudden new arrivals. Mere seconds was all it took for them to clear their way through into the courtyard beyond. "I'd thought Ffoulkes would have gotten you all lost down there!"
"And miss this?" Percy grinned. "Never."
"And about time too, old fellow!" Hastings bellowed cheerfully, almost laughing as he tackled the nearest man to the ground.
This was what Cosette had been counting on.
The swirls of panicking guards, spectators and servants raging back and forth like a great ocean. It was the perfect cover, obscuring each and every league member as they struck, spearing their way towards the gates and to their reunion.
They were no longer hiding as they had done so many times before. They were out in plain sight, one of the hundreds of faces. They were so visible, they had become utterly invisible. In all the chaos, and smoke, and people, it was near impossible to spot them.
More so as she watched her father clothe himself in the guard jacket of the man lying at his feet. He hastily pulled the fabric over his ruined, soot-stained shirt. In mere seconds he had transformed from a prisoner, to palace guard. Of course, the disguise was not perfect, but it acted effectively enough to blind the eyes of those surrounding them, hunting them like fish in a barrel.
It masked him well enough that no one noticed as he drew his sword and turned.
No sight had ever been so magnificent as the one she saw now. Watching her father, sword in hand, fighting with all his might like some great warrior - Cosette had no words.
If this was it, if she were to fall right then, she knew she'd be at peace. To go down in a blaze of glory, surrounded by those she loved, living like she never had before… what better way could there have been?
The thought filled her with a sense of calm composure, stronger than any drink or elixir could provide. Her hand steadied its grip on her sword, and her lips even dared to flicker into a faint smile as she stood, ready to all but charge.
But then she saw it - the glint of metal in the sunlight.
Her eyes swung upwards to the flicker of light. It was easy to see where it had come from, easy to see the rifle that sat upon the battlement and the man stood behind it. What was also immediately clear to her was the direction it was pointed in, with the barrel trained with deadly precision at her father.
The moment felt infinite, an endless blur of panic and terror and choices. It was only a mere second, but to Cosette, it felt as if she were watching the whole thing in a stream of blurred images.
She didn't even hesitate.
It was not within her power to do anything other than suddenly lunge, closing the gap between her and her father, pushing both herself, and him to the ground.
She heard the crack of the rifle as it fired across the courtyard, and felt the sudden impact as they hit the ground together - the breath knocked clean out of their lungs. The sound of a responding shot ricocheted through the air as she knew one of them had taken out the threat.
However, relief didn't follow the realisation. Instead, Cosette's senses were overwhelmed by a sudden sense of pain… pure white-hot pain ran through her veins, making her cry out as she swore her side was on fire.
Cosette clutched at it feebly, as her father rolled off of her, and pulled her to her feet hastily. The sudden movement only made it worse, causing her to cry out again as she swayed unsteadily. Luckily she held her father's arm and managed to remain upright as they began to run again.
"Are you alright?" Percy gasped, shirt billowing around him.
Cosette truly didn't know how to respond. It was odd that she seemed to have hit the ground with such force to pain her so, especially with her father to cushion the fall beneath her. Still, she swallowed sharply as she fought for the breath to answer. "I will be once we are out of here - we need to get to the horses."
"Agreed."
They wasted no more time as they bolted for the league and the horses they'd brought with them. Tony, Hastings and Armuand were all clambering back aboard their frantic steeds, lashing out at anyone who tried to prevent them.
Andrew reached for the nearest rider to him, hauling himself up and behind Tony. He stopped long enough to check the other two were still behind him - a fact that, albeit touching, made Percy roll his eyes.
Sir Percival Blakeney had definitely had enough of being treated like a child for one mission. He was officially back in charge, a fact he made clear as he urged for them to run.
"GO!" the cry rang out, sending them all scrabbling.
Andrew and Tony lead the way as Armaund galloped over, and began to haul Percy up. They too began to canter after the others as Hastings followed in hot pursuit.
However, Cosette didn't need to worry as she reached for the final rider, who she noticed making a clear line for her. She had put one foot in the stirrups before Percy even had, and was swiftly in place behind her means of escape.
"Cutting it rather close, don't you think?"
Will's voice had never been more welcome. Cosette could have wept for joy as she was once again reunited with the one person she loved most in the world. In fact, she was sorely tempted to weep as they began to ride for their lives but for an entirely different reason. The pain in her side was unimaginable.
A sharp hiss escaped her teeth as she rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms instinctively around him. "A lady is never late - everyone else is simply early, William."
"Of course she is," he chuckled, tightening his grip on the reins as they followed the others. She felt him urge the horse into life. With a loud neigh, it bolted, needing no further encouragement to leave the hellish chaos behind them.
The others followed, their horses making hasty tracks as they all fled victoriously out into the city of Paris and to freedom.
Of course, it was mere moments later that the soldiers behind them sprang into life, leaping onto their own mounts to give chase.
Cosette didn't dare look back but chose instead to hold tightly as they wound down the streets, in and out of alleyways as they had planned. Their obvious preparation and skill paid off as they burst through the Paris gates with a sizeable distance between them and their pursuers.
"Through the woods!" Tony ordered, steering his mount to the side.
As one the others followed, clearly familiar with this routine. They'd discussed it in enough detail the night before Cosette half believed they could have ridden the route blindfolded, should it have come to it. Thankfully, it hadn't. There was enough danger still following them as it was.
She couldn't tell if the thundering in her ears was her heart or the horse's hooves as it tried to outrun its pursuers. She closed her eyes and took a breath, trying to clear her senses of the pain that threatened to overwhelm her. In many ways, she wished she could close her eyes and wait for it to be all over.
But a Blakeney never let their destiny slip from their own fingers. If Cosette wanted to ensure she and her family escaped alive, then she would have to see this through to the very bitter end.
Already, the others had the same thought as those not riding opened fire on their pursuers. Cosette reached down, to do the same.
A moan escaped her lips as she clenched on to Will, who was doing his best to keep them steady. Her free hand chose to swipe the pistol from the saddlebag. She cocked the gun, and turned her head, aiming as best as she could at the nearest riders.
She fired twice, missing once and hitting the rider closest in the shoulder on her second attempt.
He cried out, his horse stopping as he dropped the reigns and clutched his injury.
There was barely a flicker of guilt inside as Cosette turned back to Will, clutching him tightly again. Which was just as well considering the way her worldview was beginning to spin. She winced, doing all she could to ignore the burning sensation in her side.
Her hands fumbled for her coat which she pulled tighter around her, and sighed at the vague sense of relief it gave, swaddling her trembling figure as they rode for all she was worth.
There were more shots. There were more shouts.
Eventually though, after one or two particularly stealthy twists and turns through the thicket, Cosette realised she heard silence.
A hasty glance back over her shoulder confirmed her suspicions; The road behind them was empty which could only mean one thing.
They'd done it.
They were free.
Somehow, her completely insane plan had worked.
Her eyes turned heavenward as she muttered a silent prayer of thanks as she nestled into Will. Apparently miracles really did exist and she'd most likely used up her entire life's quota. That, however, she could live with if it meant she could keep her loved ones safe.
It was official; she was never leaving Blakeney Manor again.
The ride to the harbour took less time than expected. By the time the weary travellers arrived, the sun had only just begun to set.
The road had seemed longer than Cosette remembered it to be. Then again, she had never ridden so far, or so fast in her life. The first time she'd made the journey she had been unconscious, and bundled in the back of a cart, which hardly counted. The second had been broken with rest-bites that were too much a luxury for them to afford today. Still, relief flooded her body as the sight of the harbour came into view as they trotted to the end of the village street. They'd made it.
The sea air was thick with the pungent odour of fish and salt. Nothing had ever smelt so sweet to Cosette, for it was the scent of victory, and of freedom.
Somehow, her already intense smile grew at the realisation. Nothing and no one could deprive her of the euphoria that had been washing over her with every mile ridden. The cheers, conversation and jokes bartered between the riders had been a symphony unlike any other.
It was as if she was home again.
Speaking of home, however, Cosette was more than ready to complete the last leg of what had been the most exhausting journey of her life. All she wanted right then, was to have her mother hold her and hear her brother's laughter.
"We're almost there," Will whispered as if sensing her anticipation. He turned, shooting her one last appreciative smile as he led their horse toward the edge of the docks.
Their destination was clear. It would have been impossible to miss the elegant schooner waiting in the water, sails dancing in celebration at their arrival. The Day Dream really was a marvel, and not a common sight this close to French land. However, they hadn't had a choice when concocting their escape plans. Speed was imperative, not stealth and they needed the ship waiting and primed to flee should they have not arrived alone.
So, Cosette had sent word to the captain to be docked by noon and to leave without them should it come to the evening and they not appear.
Thankfully, though, their precaution was unnecessary considering the distinct lack of militia or guards chasing them. Instead, the town seemed oddly quiet as the band of adventurers began to dismount and hurry toward the awaiting gangplank, ready and waiting.
Will was the first to ease down, making room for Cosette to do the same. He even offered his hands, waiting to life her gracefully to the ground. Under normal circumstances, she would have protested so chivalrous an offer - she was perfectly capable of standing on her own two feet, thank you very much. Although, perhaps her exhaustion shone through. Maybe that was why Will offered the gesture, smiling as she accepted without protest.
Instead, Cosette hissed under her breath as a nauseating wave of pain washed over her and knocked the air from her lungs. Still, she kept her eyes on the horizon and started with the others towards the vessel ahead.
Yet, the next instant, she fell forward onto her knees, her head swimming and her stomach lurching as every ounce of strength she had left her. It was so sudden Cosette almost missed it, blinking in surprise as she found her world view tilted.
"Cosette?" Percy choked.
As soon as he saw her his skin paled considerably, even more so as he saw the mass of red seeping through her coat and between her fingers.
Her name was immediately shouted over and over again through the swirling haze, desperate and pleading, and she tried with all her might to focus on it, trying to focus on anything.
A moment later and Cosette felt it as someone lifted her into their arms and carried her with great haste. She managed to open her eyes only long enough to see the men she loved hurrying down the street behind her before she fainted dead away, lost in a sea of agony and exhaustion.