When the winds kicked up, and the looming sounds of thunder rolled, they knew their travels to chateau would be difficult. Treville rode ahead. The carriage driver lowered his hat on his head and wrapped his long cape around his shoulders to avoid the chill of the wind and rain. The heavy drapes inside the carriage had been pulled across the windows to keep as much of the weather out as possible while they continued up the mountain that overlooked the rushing river below.
Athos and d'Artagnan rode behind the queen's carriage. Their horses lowered their heads, flattened their ears, and they tucked their tails against the rains that continued to soak their coats. Rain ran in streams down their necks, rumps, and shoulders. The four remaining musketeers rode behind the carriage, carrying the ladies-in-waiting.
They were hours from the chateau. Treville assumed — and hoped — King Louis and his guards had already arrived and were safely tucked away near a fire. If, Treville sighed, they had even run into such weather during their travels. The high country was known for its random and spontaneous storms. While high winds and hail were experienced by one group of travelers, a different group, just a few miles away, would encounter nothing but sunshine and warmth. Treville ran a hand over his face, dipped his head and the brim of his hat spilled water forward.
A flash of lightening fishtailed across the sky, and another roll of thunder echoed. The heavy sound reverberated off the surrounding cliffs and exaggerated the depth and robustness of the sharpened clap. Water ran along the trail, poured over the edge of the cliffs, and ran like waterfalls toward the river below. The horses' clip-clops of hooves were barely heard as the rush of water, mud, and debris swept past.
The carriage suddenly shifted to the right, toward the edge of the cliff, and the horses adjusted their steps to accommodate the change of weight. Without warning, the ground beneath the right rear wheel gave way, and the carriage tipped and slipped more to the right.
"D'Artagnan!" Athos shouted as he dismounted, "the queen!" He dropped his reins and ran toward the back of the carriage as it threatened to tip.
D'Artagnan ran forward. He reached the left side, swung the door open, and was met with Queen Anne. Her face had paled. She stumbled forward and wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her from the carriage. D'Artagnan then reached for Cardinal Richelieu's hand.
"Get her to safety!" Richelieu snapped as he stumbled through the carriage door on his own. He grabbed the drapes of his heavy robe and ran after them.
The driver slapped the horses' rumps with his whip, yelled for them to push onward, and the horses lowered their heads, dug into the rocky mud with their hooves, and strained the muscles of their necks, gaskins, shoulders, and croups. Iron clad hooves slipped against stone, mud splattered, and rain continued to fall.
Treville dismounted and ran toward d'Artagnan who guided both the queen and Richelieu behind the carriage and toward an alcove in the rocky cliffs, away from the chaos. Anne clung to d'Artagnan's arm, her hands shook, and she looked toward the rock-face to hide her eyes from the crumbling ledge behind her. Treville joined Athos at the back of the carriage.
"The queen?" Athos said and worked to push the carriage forward as the horses struggled with the incline and the weight of the carriage.
"Safe for now!" Treville said and pushed.
The four remaining musketeers struggled with their own horses and the horses pulling the second carriage. The ladies-in-waiting had exited and were huddled together in the rain as the animals worked to maintain their position on the trail, while the lead carriage continued its threat to fall.
"See to the horses," Athos said, "lead them!" His foot slipped in the mud and he fell to his knees. "If one of them shies, the carriage will careen over the edge." He pushed himself up and continued to brace his weight against the back.
Treville turned, looked toward d'Artagnan who continued to protect Anne and then watched in horror as another crash of thunder clapped, more rain poured from the sky, and the edge of the cliff continued to crumble. Emone, one of the newest musketeers riding near the rear, yelled as his gray horse reared. The cliff's edge crumbled beneath the gelding's weight. In a startled cry, they both tumbled over the edge.
Anne screamed as she caught sight of the gelding's underbelly as he reared and fell backward. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
Treville glanced toward d'Artagnan, clenched his teeth, and then ran to the front of the carriage.
D'Artagnan pushed Queen Anne and Richelieu deeper into the alcove. "Keep her safe," he said, and met Richelieu's eyes.
The cardinal wrapped his cloak covered arms around her and watched as a gush of water poured from the cliff behind him.
"I'm going to help Athos try to get the carriage moving forward," d'Artagnan said, and watched Richelieu tighten his arms around the queen.
Anne grabbed the front of his robes and turned her head away from the scene.
D'Artagnan ran forward. He slipped in the mud and fell to his hands and knees. He looked over his shoulder toward the other three musketeers: Remy continued to calm the horses of the second carriage, and Marc and Stefan dismounted and ran toward them to help. D'Artagnan pushed himself up, and looked through rain blurred vision as the carriage shifted again, rocked slightly to the left, and then the right. He ran forward and pressed his hands to the back of the carriage to Athos' left and together they pushed, shoved, and fought the weather to stabilize the carriage.
Another roar of thunder echoed. Tree limbs cracked and fell with a crash toward the ground and tumbled over the edge of the cliff to the water below. Rainwater picked up speed and continued to rush across the narrow road, along the cliff's edge, and around the plants and stones and over the cliff's edge.
"On three," Athos shouted, and looked toward d'Artagnan who nodded.
Together they shifted their feet, found solid purchase, and Athos counted. The carriage shifted, the right wheel found solid ground, and the horses stepped forward. Athos fell forward and landed on his hands and knees with a deep sigh of relief. D'Artagnan fell to his knees, placed his hands on his thighs as the horses, and the carriage crested the top of the incline. He took a deep breath and turned as Remy followed with the second team.
Marc quickly captured the loose horses while the Stefan checked the queen and the cardinal. For a moment, breaths were caught, nerves relaxed, and exhales of relief were shared. Treville walked down the incline and remained as close to the rock-face as he could while the rain continued its downpour, and mud ran across the path. He ran a hand over his wet face and realized he had lost his hat. He turned for a moment, sought it out, but shook his head and continued. He had lost a man. A young man with promise who had just been commissioned by the king. Treville's heart clenched in his chest.
Athos wiped his hands on his thighs, rested on his haunches despite the rain that continued to soak his trousers. He looked toward Treville, who met his eyes, but quickly sought out the queen. Athos took a deep breath and slowly stood. He reached out a hand toward d'Artagnan who grasped his in thanks and stood.
Suddenly, the ground crumbled beneath Athos' feet. No warning, no clap of thunder, or crumbling of ground — it was just gone. He fell, grasped the edge of the muddied ground with gloved hands and kicked his feet while trying to find purchase. Fingers kept their claw like grip in the mud that continued to seep between them. Forearms strained, wrists suddenly locked, and stomach muscles tightened and worked to help him find leverage as his thighs burned.
The ground beneath him had suddenly disappeared, crumbled beneath his weight, and the water that had created a sinkhole below where he had been standing gushed from a crevasse in the mountain side. Athos hung from the ledge and tried frantically to shift his position before the rest of the ledge crumbled. He glanced up to see d'Artagnan, on his belly and reaching toward him.
"Athos!" d'Artagnan reached for Athos' arm. "Look at me — LOOK!" He pushed himself further over the ledge. He extended his arm, stretched his fingers, and craned his neck in an effort to reach his friend. He ignored another clap of thunder and the rush of rain that followed.
Athos grunted, felt the ground beneath his fingers weaken. He looked up and met d'Artagnan's eyes.
"Grasp my hand!" d'Artagnan said and inched closer. "Athos! Grab my hand!"
Athos squinted against the rain. He pulled himself upward, felt his biceps curl at the strain, but he paused when the ground beneath his fingers threatened to shift.
"On three!" d'Artagnan yelled. "Grab my hand!"
"Three," Athos said, and tightened his jaw. He kicked again in search of a foothold, something to press his foot against for leverage. He listened to the determination in d'Artagnan's voice. Athos looked up when he heard "Three," and pulled himself up as far as he could and released his right hand from the muddied ledge and grasped d'Artagnan's.
Athos dangled for a moment, his left hand on the cliff's ledge, and his right firmly grasped by d'Artagnan who gallantly held strong. Athos watched another chunk of mud break apart from the cliff's ledge and tumble toward the water below. He looked up and met d'Artagnan's eyes.
D'Artagnan tightened his grasp, grunted at the additional weight, and felt a moment of relief. His shoulder and back strained and his stomach muscles tightened. He looked toward Athos, who shook his head. It was a moment of clarity, when effort and determination would not bend the will of fate. D'Artagnan's efforts, while admirable, were not enough. The ground shifted. More water poured over the side and took with it more chunks of mud and stones. D'Artagnan tightened his jaw, pursed his lips, and strengthened his grasp. "Don't you dare!" He felt the ground shift beneath him again. "Athos, don't you dare!" He flared his nostrils and tried to push himself up. He felt someone grab his legs. "Please! We'll get you out of this!"
Athos watched more of the ground crumble, more rain poured over the ledge and weaken the integrity of the road. He took a deep breath, met d'Artagnan's eyes and shook his head. "Save the queen!" he said. He relaxed his hand, felt his fingers slip from his leather glove as d'Artagnan tightened his grip.
Athos fell.
"ATHOS!" d'Artagnan felt himself pulled backward as the ledge he had been leaning over crumbled.
Treville pulled d'Artagnan back, ignored the young man's struggles, and wrapped an arm around his chest and waist. "He's gone," he said, and shifted before him. He met d'Artagnan's eyes and said, "He's gone."
D'Artagnan tried to push past Treville and looked toward the edge of the cliff. "He can't be," he met Treville's eyes. "We have to go after him." He shoved again at Treville, who fisted his hands within d'Artagnan's doublet.
Treville shook his head. "He's gone!" He struggled against d'Artagnan who tried to free himself again, but paused and caught his breath in his throat. "I'm sorry, son."
"He's my best friend," d'Artagnan said and met his eyes. "He can't be." Tears mixed with rain and fell across his face. His chin quivered, his nose burned, and his breath caught in his throat. "Please…" he said, "let me go after him." He held up his hand in a plea. "Please."
Treville grasped the back of d'Artagnan's neck and shook his head. "He's gone." He met his eyes. "We have to get the queen to safety."
D'Artagnan choked, looked toward the ledge, and was slow to nod. He wiped his wrist below his nose, looked at the ledge again, and then looked at Treville.
"I'm sorry," was all Treville could say.