Athos, Porthos, d'Artagnan and Alain moved swiftly through the dark streets of Paris, lanterns held high before them. They didn't need to be held up fighting off the thieves and troublemakers, many from the Court of Miracles, who used the dark streets to their advantage.
They had lent Alain weapons, as he had left his behind when he had left Villefort's building behind.
The Musketeers didn't do much talking as they moved, but their thoughts were still very similar.
All three of them wanted vengeance for their slain brother, and they wanted to be the ones to administer it. They had no confidence in a legal system run by Richelieu, who followed his own mental agenda. What suited him is what transpired.
The journey seemed to take forever to them. When Alain at last held up a hand and pointed out a low, ramshackle building with no light coming from it, their minds moved into a kind-of battle mode.
Pistols and swords were drawn in silence.
Athos only had one terse comment before they moved in: "Villefort does not leave this building alive."
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Approaching silently, the eyes of all of them scanned the building, looking for signs of any threat. Dead quiet surrounded them.
Athos used his hand to indicate they should go around to the back. They needed to make sure no nasty surprises might be waiting for them there. They also had no intentions of entering the building in the most obvious manner.
They encountered nothing and no one rounding the corner. But they didn't relax.
They knew from the past that Villefort was a wily opponent, and would attack swiftly if he knew they were there.
There was a large empty, grassy area at the back of the building, large spreading trees brimming the area all around it.
Their eyes scanned the trees, but noticed no hidden enemy.
Pausing at the large wooden door, Athos, without a word, turned to Porthos. The big man put his shoulder against the wood and exerted his strength. The door gave easily, and they filed inside one by one.
It was dark inside, but light filtered through from several windows, making it unnecessary to light the two lanterns they had brought with them yet.
At Athos' indication, Alain now took the lead.
He led them through the kitchen and partway through a large main room, furnished only with large old table and several chairs, before veering off into a hallway that branched off of it.
They saw and heard no evidence that Villefort was in the house so far, which was disappointing to all of them.
But just as they were about to start down the hallway, Porthos heard a slight sound behind him. That was all the warning they had before a large, stocky man flew at them from the back.
They all tensed up at the sudden attack, then Porthos grabbed the man, whirled him around, and slammed his head into the wall. The man dropped to the ground without a sound.
Alain quietly told them that he was Georges, the man he had worked with.
D'Artagnan bound the man's wrists and ankles, then gagged him. They couldn't afford for Georges to tip off Villefort if he showed up. D'Artagnan and Porthos then dragged his body against the wall, out of the way.
The hallway wasn't lit by any sconces or torches, so d'Artagnan lit the two lanterns they had brought with them, handing one of them to Athos.
Alain resumed the way down the hallway to the end, stopping at the locked door on the left. Reaching to a keyring on the wall, he took the set off and quietly turned it in the lock, opening it easily.
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He entered the unlit room slowly, his eyes scanning across, then stopping on a form against the far left wall.
Lifting his lantern, Athos saw no movement from the figure on the floor. Whoever he was, he was no threat to them.
Alain had told them of someone else Villefort had wanted to take his revenge on for crossing him. Was this that man? Had Villefort tired of him and killed him?
The man needed to be stopped. Not only had he taken their brother from them, he seemed to use violence on anyone who opposed him in any way.
Walking only towards the figure, his body began to take more shape in the meager light of the lantern he held.
Whoever he was, Villefort had kept him bound, he could now see. Still no movement from him.
And then on his next step, his whole body froze. He stared, shock and the beginnings of incredible joy filling his entire being.
He knew that hair! Despite the tangled mess of it, the oiliness from being unwashed, the dirt from the floor he lay on encrusted in it.
As the unheeded tears began to fall in this normally stoic man, his voice whispered 'Aramis!'
as his feet took him swiftly now to his body.
Porthos and d'Artagnan, as quietly as Athos' word was uttered, heard. They, as he had just done, stopped in shock. Then, they swiftly joined the swordsman who had fallen to his knees by then.
Athos, one hand holding his lantern aloft, gently turned the body face upwards. Despite the fact that he recognized the curly head, once more seeing the face of the brother they had still been mourning caused him to gasp.
Reaching out a hand to cup his brother's cheek, he whispered, "Aramis?" But there was no response whatsoever from the obviously deeply unconscious marksman.
They couldn't stop staring. He was alive! They had not lost their beloved brother!
His face, extremely pale under the dirt and bruises though it was, was the most precious sight they had ever seen.
Porthos, with an oath, set about freeing his brother's wrists and ankles from the ropes binding them. He uttered another angry oath when he discovered that the ropes had become partially embedded in his skin, the result of Aramis having tried over and over to free himself and only succeeding in tearing open the skin, which had allowed the ropes to dig in further.
Athos tried a couple more times to wake Aramis, but to no avail.
D'Artagnan, who had thought he had seen something white on the floor outside the room, left and came back now holding it. His expression was full of anger as he held out the cloth.
"Smell it, " he said to Athos.
Athos' face now mirrored the identical expression as d'Artagnan wore.
"He has been drugged!" he said, outrage in his voice.
"There are more cloths in the room across the hall," d'Artagnan added. "They must have been using them on him for some time."
Porthos growled, "And beating him when he was unconscious?"
"There is a lot more bruising on his chest," Athos added, after looking.
They were all livid at what had been happening to their brother.
Then, they remembered what Alain had told them, glancing back at him. He shrank away at the anger in their eyes. But Athos, seeing this, quietly said, "If you had not come to your senses and listened to your conscience, we would never have found him. For that, we will always be had a hand in it, but you regret your actions."
Athos had continued gently checking out his brother's condition, and now angrily added, "We need to get him out of here and get a physician. He has a fresh stab wound on his lower right side. I did not see it before because he was lying on it-and the large pool of blood under him. Villefort may very well have figured out we were coming, and tried to finish things."
He had barely finished speaking, when Aramis' eyes began opening. But as much as they wanted to see him conscious again, they were again sent into shock by the huge dilated pupils. He didn't seem to even see them, as his eyes flitted wildly back and forth, a look of terror in them.
"I'll kill Villefort," Porthos again vowed, and Athos and d'Artagnan wholeheartedly agreed, as their hearts ached for what had been done to the brother they loved.