Torment and Heartache
Chapter Fifteen.
Rochefort hastened down the passageway as several guards emerged from the darkness, his features enraged, raised voices filled the dark gloomy tunnels.
"Find the musketeers, I will not have this mission fail." he yelled.
He paused in his tracks as two guards were nudged forward towards him by their superior officer, both men looking unkempt and abashed.
"We found these two shackled inside a cell Comte, the two musketeers fled with the Bonacieux whore." growled the officer.
Rochefort turned on both men, his face akin to a statue as he glared from one to the other.
"You both allowed two musketeer oafs overpower you, are you men or mice?
Both men stood rigid as they heeded Rochefort's wrath.
"We were taken by surprise Comte, they appeared from nowhere...
Rochefort turned suddenly, his rage evident to all.
..."ah I see...they appeared from nowhere you say...you men are a disgrace...if this mission fails I will have all your heads on the chopping block, do I make myself clear."
The two men nodded rapidly.
"Yes Comte...indeed Comte."
"Now get out of my sight...you will find these flunkies and kill them."
lllll
The cacophony of voices had both Aramis and Porthos halt in their tracks and lean back into a wall niche. The passageway they had followed was now dark and dismal. Both musketeers gripping their pistols as they crept into the icy gloom.
Porthos squeezed his brothers shoulder.
"Rochefort." he mouthed.
Aramis nodded.
"And indeed quite a few others." he whispered in reply. "Let us hope Athos and d'Artagnan have made some progress."
Porthos gave his friend a mutual grunt.
The raised voices began to wane prompting both musketeers to resume their tread.
The stench of mould and dead critters filled the icy murk as they went, Aramis suddenly pausing as he noticed orange hues flickering from around the bend.
Porthos strengthening his grip on his pistol having also averted his eyes toward the sudden flicker of light.
Aramis peered around the corner seeing nothing, a lone torch burnt in its sconce outside what looked like an empty cell, rats scurried back and forth.
Both men crept slowly towards the cell.
The torch allowing them to scan their surroundings.
Porthos walked slowly into the cell, halting in his tracks as he practically stepped upon a discarded shackle, the big man crouched down and picked up the iron fetter, with what light emitted from the torch he could just make out chains hanging from the damp walls.
Aramis joined him, his features that of unsettling pallor.
"Now I wonder whom these were used on? he muttered.
Porthos' trepidation suddenly turned to enrage, as he imagined what the queen and Constance might have endured, he stood suddenly.
"So he picks on two defenceless women, I'll show 'im when I get my 'ands on him...no one gets away with this."
Aramis patted his brother on the shoulder.
"He will pay my friend...do not fret."
Aramis picked up a shawl and put the fabric to his nose.
"Lavender...the queen has been in here."
Porthos gave his friend a knowing look.
That instant both men exchanged glances as they heard the voices again.
"Too far away to comprehend what is being said." muttered Aramis.
Porthos rapidly grabbed the torch from its sconce and extinguished the flame with his booted foot, both musketeers recoiling backwards into the darkened cell, the voices and footfalls becoming louder as they neared, more flickering light appeared.
"MUSKETEERS!
The glowing hues returned as several men held lighted torches.
The tenacious tones of Rochefort reverberated off the stone walls.
"I trust you are aware I still have the queen...if she is to live...I suggest you yield now, throw your weapons into the passageway...NOW!
Both Aramis and Porthos swapped eye contact, both men enraged at the situation they found themselves in.
Aramis couldn't help but think about the queen, he would never forgive himself if anything were to happen to her.
Porthos read his friends features.
The silence in the passageway seemed to span ages as Rochefort and his associates awaited a response.
That moment several pistols landed with a clatter onto the stone ground followed by the clunk of swords and daggers.
Rochefort's features developed into a smug grin as both musketeers emerged from the cell holding up their arms in surrender.
"You wont get away with this Rochefort, this is just a short obstacle, your days are numbered." seethed Porthos.
"Where is the queen and Madame Bonacieux! yelled Aramis ferociously.
Rochefort grinned slightly as he glared at both men.
"My heart bleeds musketeers, your concern for the Bonacieux whore and the queen quite frankly turns my stomach."
"You do realise you will hang for this Rochefort! snarled Porthos.
Rochefort's fiery eyes met his, a smirk forming on his lips.
"I think not musketeers."
He turned to his men.
"Take them!
llllll
Athos put his shoulder to the large door and forced it open with a creeking rasp. The chamber was dark, he turned to d'Artagnan and Constance, the Gascon's arm was wrapped around the young womans shoulders. Their breaths rising into the icy chill.
The two musketeers had found the outer Barbican to the Chateau, the only part that looked half decent.
"This will surffice, stay with Constance whilst I search for the queen and the others."
d'Artagnan gave his brother a perplexed stare as he approached the swordsman.
"You're going alone?
Athos glanced at the Gascon.
"Unless you want to leave Constance here my friend...then yes!
Constance had huddled down onto an old looking pillow and wrapped the cloak tighter around herself. Her face was ashen, her hair draped around her shoulders.
"Go with Athos d'Artagnan...I will be fine here."
Both musketeers glanced back at her. The Gascon moved towards her and crouched down to her level, he took her cold hand in his.
"I am not leaving you alone with these reprobates crawling all over the place."
Athos picked up bits of broken chair legs and began to light a fire in the grate with his flintlock.
"Please d'Artagnan, the queen needs you all now, I will be alright, they are not interested in finding me, its the queen Rochefort wants...Go! she pressed.
Athos and d'Artagnan swapped glances as the Gascon unclipped a pistol from his belt and handed it to her.
"Keep this with you, if Rochefort dares to come through that door...
...shoot him." finished Athos.
Both musketeers turned towards the door. Athos turned back into the chamber.
"Keep the shutters closed Constance...we don't want them noticing the flickering flames.
The young woman nodded in acknowledgement.
"GO! she repeated.
llllll
Both Aramis and Porthos were ushered into the main hall, pistols aimed at them from all angles. Both in silent conversation as they wondered as to why they had not been taken to one of the cells and shackled to the walls.
"You musketeers think you are all so clever do you not? scowled Rochefort. "I have men searching for the Athos, d'Artagnan and the whore right this very minute...they will not get far."
Both Aramis and Porthos swapped raised eyebrows, slight humour creeping into the moment.
"I fear you are too late for that...they left as soon as they found Madame Bonacieux...they will be miles away." grinned Aramis as he and Porthos exchanged almost theatrical smiles.
Rochefort glared, his men stood rigid, smiles enveloped their faces as they weilded their pistols towards both musketeers.
"I could have you both shot right now, but alas I would rather watch you both suffer greatly." scowled Rochefort. "In fact it seems I will have the last laugh."
"Whats he talking about? muttered Porthos between gritted teeth so only Aramis could hear.
Aramis scanned the hall, the men seemed amused.
"Not entirely certain my friend." he replied in muted tones.
Both men watched in bewilderment as Rochefort nodded to one of his men.
Suddenly a loud creeking din reverberated off the hall walls. Both Aramis and Porthos began to lose their balance as the ground began to shudder.
"IT'S A TRAP! yelled Porthos.
Both men grabbing each other by the arms as they tried to stay on their feet.
The rasping sound like metal sent tingling echos around the walls, Rochefort's men chuckled loudly as the floor instantly opened up swallowing both musketeers up into the black abyss.
Rochefort edged closer and stared down into the darkness, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Close it! he ordered.
He watched as the trapdoor closed emitting dust particles into the already musty air.
Two of the men lay down an old dilapitaded mat over the trapdoors followed by a table.
Rochefort grinned.
"In hell where they belong."
ooooooOOOoooooo
To be continued...
Hi Guys,
Hope you are all well.
Have had a very busy couple of weeks, hence the late posting, sorry.
Hope you are still enjoying the drama.
Take care
Pippa xxx
.
.
.
.