96. ON COMING BACK (3)

Aramis and d'Artagnan:

The Palace:

"It is pointless scowling, Porthos. It is our turn for duty tonight. d'Artagnan and Aramis did their duty last night."

"I know," Porthos grunted. "Just 'eard there was a card game in The Wren tonight."

Athos huffed.

"There is a card game every night in The Wren," he replied. "Concentrate."

"It's just," Porthos grumbled, "Someone owes me money and he was goin' to be there tonight."

"And I am sure he will be there tomorrow night," Athos hissed, beginning to lose patience.

Porthos sighed.

He was about to say more when a guard rushed into the room.

The Seine, apparently, was ablaze.

oOo

The night sky was black and the air cold, but the flames from the barge reflected in the water, giving the illusion that the Seine itself was on fire. Smoke drifted thickly at water level, flames beginning to shoot between the tarred planks of the hull.

There were men down there, below the waterline, lost in the dark confusion of the fire. Their shouts rent the air but there were no other boats to come to their help, None big enough at least. The people still about, who had streamed from the taverns, were content to watch and point, until two figures emerged to push their way through and shout orders. Some drifted away, lest they be pressed in to help with the rescue, as it seemed these two foolhardy men were considering such a course, as they pulled off their boots hastily.

Then word went round that they were Musketeers, these two, and the women pushed forward to watch.

The crowd watched as they entered the water.

And as one climbed aboard.

As he made his way along the long deck, toward the hatch.

As he struggled to open it.

All the time, the other had been swimming along the side of the hull, a dagger between his teeth. He began to work at the hull, where a small hole had appeared. The men trapped inside had realised what he was doing and when he broke through they began from their side, that small hole being their salvation as they hacked at the melting tar between the planks of the hull.

Leaving the men inside to continue, the Musketeer then hacked though the rope that tethered the barge to the river bed and the great barge began to drift to the edge.

Onboard, d'Artagnan was struggling to open the hatch, which had warped and twisted, the doors firmly stuck. He pulled out his main gauche and began digging at the hinges of the two great doors.

Meanwhile, the hole in the hull had grown enough to allow a man through, and once one entered the water, others followed.

Some shouted up to the Musketeer onboard, to say men were trapped on the stairs leading up to the doors, and the young man doubled his efforts if that was possible, until finally the hinge gave way and he fell backward onto the deck as several men began to pour through, coughing and staggering.

In the melee, the crowd lost sight of their two heroes.

Then, a second rescue began as the Musketeer on deck dived into the water in search of his comrade, who had disappeared beneath the black water as the bargemen had pushed through.

There were a dozen men in the water now, some swimming, some struggling but all eyes were on the Musketeer who had dived into the river, and who was now surfacing and diving repeatedly, and people hung over the parapets of the bridge, shouting and pointing.

oOo

At the Palace, guards climbed onto the roof to see.

"It's just one vessel," one called down, unaware of the ensuing drama. "A barge."

Athos and Porthos exchanged a look. There was no imminent threat to their Majesties and they resumed their positions, boredom settling once more.

Further word filtered through during the night that the barge was still afloat and had been grounded at the side of the river; the hole that had opened the hull was above the water line and it had been saved from a watery grave. That would have been a major headache to the river authorities, tasked with keeping river traffic moving. Added to the good news, was the fact that the fire had been doused and no-one had been killed in the aftermath.

As Athos and Porthos came off duty, the stench of the smoke drifted through the air and hung heavy over the city. They began their walk back to the Garrison as traders began to set their stalls for the new day. Porthos shook his head, thinking of his longing for his own bed, which had started well before his shift was over, Athos casting him stern looks as he tried to stifle his yawns.

Last evening, Aramis had clapped him on the back as he waved him and Athos off from the tavern, where they had eaten their meal before leaving their two brothers behind to enjoy the rest of their evening. Porthos had cast a longing look at the nearby card game until Athos had pulled him firmly away.

"Your turn tomorrow night," Porthos had growled at d'Artagnan had merely raised a glass toward him with a grin.

"But tonight is ours!" Aramis had replied, expansively.

"Enjoy your evening, Gentlemen," Athos intoned, as he placed his hat carefully on his head and adjusted the brim.

Now, as they walked quietly back, they became increasingly aware of the gossip between the traders. It seemed that many had risen from their beds during the night to view the spectacle on the river. Apparently, the success of the rescue had been down in the main, to two Musketeers, who had entered the water and not only saved the barge, but also the men.

Stopping in their tracks, Athos grabbed the arm of a nearby trader and, forgetting his manners, demanded more information.

A female trader near-by gladly gave it.

"Two Musketeers!" she cried. "It was so exciting." Well aware of the men who were garrisoned close by, she had more to say. "It was the one who likes the ladies, and the young one with the floppy hair," she added, as she turned to pick up a basket of apples to place on her table.

"What 'appened to them!" Porthos said now, urgently looking back at the man.

"Carried them back to The Garrison," he said. "Along with some of the worst injured bargemen."

Turning abruptly away from the traders, Athos and Porthos quickened their pace, hands holding their swords in place as they broke into a run.

As they careered through the archway, Serge was coming out of the Infirmary, a tray in his hands.

"Serge!" Athos yelled, as they skidded to a stop. "How are they?"

Serge halted and turned toward them.

"Asleep now. Been coughin' up muck and river water since they were brought back. We've got a few of the bargemen 'ere too. Doctor's just left."

"So, they're alive?" Porthos said, grabbing Serge's arm.

"Well, they were just now, when I went to collect the tray," he replied. "Just exhausted. I don't know the full story, but no doubt it'll come out."

As Serge continued on his way, Athos and Porthos pushed into the Infirmary. They saw several beds were occupied with the rescued bargemen, in various states. Most of them seemed to have suffered burns, though they looked more exhausted than near death.

They made their way to the room at the end, and threw the door open.

"No-one's cleaned them up," Porthos said, taking a step toward the two beds where d'Artagnan and Aramis lay asleep, just as Serge had said. They were dishevelled, but were not bandaged, merely smoke-blackened though it was obvious that they had spent a very uncomfortable few hours expelling smoke from their lungs and water from their stomachs.

Athos moved to block his path.

"Let them sleep, Porthos. It can be done when they wake."

"But they will wake?" Porthos said.

"If their lungs are clear. It seems they are breathing well," Athos replied as he studied their comrades.

"Our heroes," he added, quietly with a smile.

"So the people are sayin'" Porthos said, a little calmer now.

"You would have done the same," a raspy voice suddenly said.

"Aramis," Porthos breathed, a smile spreading across his face.

Aramis raised his hand and pushed his dirty hair from his face, before looking at it and grimacing.

"Nah," Porthos grunted. "I wouldn't."

"Why not?" d'Artagnan said now, also awake and pushing himself up on his elbows with a groan.

"Can't swim," Porthos shrugged, looking down at his feet. "Not as well as you two, anyway."

When silence ensued, he looked up.

"What?" he asked, defensively.

"Well," Athos said, "We can easily rectify that. We all have a few days off. And it seems, we have a reputation to uphold."

He waved his hand at their two prone friends.

"And you will be in safe hands," he added with a smirk.

"You will!" Aramis replied. "We are The People's Heroes, after all," he beamed, his eyes bright in a smoke-streaked face.

Porthos groaned.

"Wish I'd never opened me mouth," he growled.

oOo

Thanks for reading!