Chapter 5: The Burden of Uncertainty
In the last hour, all Athos had done was pull and wrestle on the chains that limited his movements, and growled in frustration whenever he failed.
The effects of whatever he was drugged with slowly but surely wore off, and his mind was getting clearer with every minute. The more clear he was able to think, the more his resistance got weaker and now, he lay slumped against the iron bars, accepting his defeat and his anger was replaced by surrender.
In the cell behind him, the old man and the boy were exchanging some words, but the boy didn't seem to be the one for talking, and the old man had to be satisfied with one word answers most of the time.
Athos noticed the giant in Aramis' cell watching the boy closely, an unfamiliar soft and loving expression in his eyes.
Maybe the boy was his family, Athos concluded. He sighed. He was getting really tired of this. Their captors haven't even shown their faces yet. From what he had figured out, about a day has passed since he was captured near the blacksmith.
His disappearance, and the one of Aramis, wouldn't go unnoticed in the regiment. Athos almost grinned. Tréville would be fuming with anger that two of his musketeers failed to do their duty. But Porthos and d'Artagnan would know something was wrong. This Baron probably messed with the wrong people.
On the other hand, Athos had no idea where exactly he might be. Who knew how far from Paris they were. The travelling apparently took at least half a day's ride. He could be everywhere. And Porthos and d'Artagnan had to get a clue where to find them before they could rescue them.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud and sudden movement. Athos' attention was drawn to the cell immediately.
Aramis awoke with a loud gasp, rolling onto his side and choking slightly on the air as he tried to even his breathing. His cellmate moved, much to Athos' surprise, to Aramis' side and gently laid a hand on his shoulder and waited until Aramis calmed down a bit.
"Take it easy" the giant murmured with a raspy, deep voice.
"What…? Where am I?" Aramis asked, his voice hoarse.
The giant silently motioned to Athos' cell, as if to say 'I'll leave the explanations to you'.
Aramis followed his gaze and his eyes fell on Athos. He crawled as far into Athos' direction as possible, the rustling of the chain as well as a deep groan underlining his movements.
"I see you decided to grace us with your presence," Athos said humorless, and he sounded extremely tired.
Aramis, still busy with figuring out he was actually chained to the prison's walls, turned his head to look at his friend.
Athos eyes widened slightly. By the look of his face, Aramis was not drugged in order to cooperate. He was rather beaten to cooperate against his will.
The marksman's right side of his face swollen and covered in dark bruises, the skin was split on multiple spots. His right eye was swollen shut and he looked more rugged than his tall cellmate. Athos, as usual, tried to check for other injuries, but luckily, he couldn't find any.
"Athos. What the hell are you doing here? Where are we?"
Athos sighed.
"We are prisoners of the Baron de Terré. His men ambushed you yesterday, drugged me and brought us into this little basement."
Aramis sagged against his bars, his head tilted to the side so that his good eye could stay on Athos.
"Yes, I remember. They attacked me once I left church." As if that triggered an idea, Aramis started fumbling on his jacket, his hands patting down his neck and chest. Athos realized what he was doing.
"They took all that is not clothing. Including your pendant you like to misuse as a lock pick."
Aramis let out a breath.
"Well, it would've been too easy, I guess." He blinked at Athos. "Who is this Baron de Terré? I've never heard of him. Why would he risk being charged for these crimes by the King himself and abduct musketeers?"
"He is not reasonable," the old man in the cell next to Athos chipped in, "this man has lost his mind. He is either going to demand ransom for you two, or he has something else in mind. You should pray he just wants the money."
"Don't be fooled," the giant in Aramis' cell spoke, his teeth clenched as he tried to control his obvious anger, "de Terré doesn't need the money. He has another use for you. As well as for me."
Aramis raised an eyebrow.
"And you are?"
The man exchanged a quick look with the old man, before his gaze settled back on Aramis.
"My name is Isko. Over there is my son, Reive. The grumpy old man over there is Hugo, our villages lumberjack. The young lady over there with your musketeer brother answers to the name of Ria. She is a maid in service of our Baron."
"Your Baron?" Athos asked and sat up a little straighter.
"The Baron de la Serre," Hugo answered sharply and paced in his cell, "and we all are just victims of his unfortunate strife with de Terré."
They all fell silent the moment they heard the thick, wooden door to the basement being opened. A wave of light welled out and Athos squeezed his eyes shut as it blinded him.
A man in a long, grey cloak walked in and made space for three young girls, each with a small tablet in their hands.
"Dinnertime!" he exclaimed amused and regarded each and every one of them, "I see you all are awake. The Baron will be pleased."
Athos had a firm grip on the iron bars and pulled himself up on shaky legs, his forehead leaning against the cold metal that divided him from the man, as he opened the door so the girls were able to serve them their meals.
"What is the meaning of this?" Athos demanded to know, letting go of the iron bars as the door was opened. The girl with the tablet looked at him shyly, before she scurried past him and quickly put the tablet on the ground. The man kept a safe distance, one Athos couldn't cross while being chained to the wall, and he wasn't so dumb to try to leap at him.
"You'll learn soon enough," the man responded and gestured to the other cells, "until then, we hope you enjoy the company."
Athos could do nothing but watch as the door was being closed again, the bars only inches from his face. The next cell was being opened, and Hugo and Reive, knowing the procedure, stood in silence and took the tablet into their hands as the girl handed it to them.
Out of the corner of his eye, Athos watched Aramis picking himself up, leaning heavily against the wall. His door was opened last, and the girl entered, the strange man just standing one arm reach behind her, as if to guard her. With a look at Isko, Athos guessed that he tried to revolt one time, so maybe that was why the stranger was so careful in this cell.
What the stranger didn't have on account was the sudden and untamed temper of Aramis. Once he got into a close distance, Aramis lifted his head.
"We demand an audience with the Baron de Terré right now."
The stranger just chuckled weakly; he didn't bestow as much as a glance at the musketeer. But he stood too close. Aramis was able to get hold of the man's sleeve, grabbing it tightly with his unshackled hand.
"This is a crime against the crown you are committing!" he growled and thrust the man against the wall.
Athos noticed other men standing in the doorway of the basement, drawing their weapons at an instant, but there was no need to interfere. The stranger kneed Aramis in the guts and pushed him to the floor, before he stormed out of the cell and locked it.
"Know your place, musketeer!" he spat, before wrenching the key out of the hole and trampling back to the door, slamming it shut on his way out.
"Are you alright?" Athos queried, watching as his comrade propped up on his elbows and got into a sitting position.
"Fantastic," Aramis grunted sarcastically and winced as he leaned against the wall, "it was worth a try."
"Indeed it was," Isko commented and offered his cellmate the bowl filled with broth. "You should try it...," he added, "it is the best you'll get here."
Aramis took it and Athos also collected the bowl from the ground, sitting in front of Ria and ate the broth. It was very watery and without really a taste, but it was enough to satisfy his grumbling stomach for now. Athos still felt the side effects of whatever he had been drugged with, as everything seemed much slower than it should be. He cursed silently. Judging by the faint light coming through the only window in the basement, Athos guessed it was late evening now. The sun vanished and left the prisoners in total darkness.
Athos was able to get about two hours of sleep, even though it was more than uncomfortable on the stone floor, but his exhaustion just had taken over. He awoke in the middle of the night. Ria was fast asleep, stretched out on the floor. Athos propped up against the iron bars, unwillingly rustling his chain.
"Can't sleep?" a voice asked him from the opposite side and Athos looked up to meet the soft gaze of Aramis, leaning in an odd angle with his back against the stone wall.
"I don't seem to be the only one…" Athos responded wryly. He swallowed hard before he continued. "It's a strange feeling that won't let me sleep. This feeling of not being able to do anything. Not yet at least."
Aramis chuckled weakly, but it missed its usual cheer.
"Surely it's not the fact that you are trying to sleep sober?"
Athos grunted. "Why do you don't sleep?" he asked instead as he failed to come up with a good comment.
Aramis sighed.
"My thoughts, I guess. This cell. Well, and my face won't stop pounding."
"Seems like you took a good beating."
Athos waited a moment, not sure if he would like to keep this conversation going. But what else were they supposed to do?
"What are you thinking about?" he asked his comrade, curious if he might have come up with a solution that freed them out of the dilemma, but Aramis' answer left him disappointed concerning their plan of escape.
"Official answer or honest one?"
Athos snorted. "You really have to ask?" He shook his head.
Aramis seemed to gather himself.
"I always feared this day might come. That I end up chained like a dog in a dark cellar, extradited to mercy alone. I just thought that the prison would be a different one."
A queasy feeling settled in Athos' stomach once he realized what his friend was referring to. Ever since Aramis was told what happened to Adele, and what other secrets might still be out there, he lived in a constant fear that someone would make a move against him, against the Queen and against the dauphin. Athos knew that the King would never believe these accusations if they came out of a poor and simple man's mouth. It would be difficult to reverse the presumption, but not impossible.
But if someone at the court ever overheard a rumour, concerning a certain musketeer in his affair with the Queen of France, it could be a total different story. But Aramis knew that.
"Prisons are mostly the same. It doesn't matter if you are locked here or in the Bastille," Athos answered, again gloriously showing off his supportive characteristics.
Aramis ran a hand over his face, his expression was truly desperate.
"That's a comfort," he sighed, "You know, concerning this subject, you always make me feel like I dug a hole so deep I'm gonna drown in my mistakes."
"Well, it wasn't your brightest idea back at the convent," Athos scoffed.
Aramis just glared.
"If it was a mistake, I would feel bad about it. I don't. At least not for the incident itself. Therefore, I am not going to apologize. Not if I did nothing wrong."
Athos bristled, but the expression in his eyes grew softer and had a witty spark in it.
"When the time is right, the two of us should have a serious conversation about your definition of the word wrong." His face was a mask of stone. "But not now."
Aramis offered him a crooked smile.
"You know I don't need to. I am no fool, Athos. Whatever I may feel, whatever my heart tells me to do, I know my duty. And that is to do what's best for France."
Athos looked at his shackled hand, examining it while thinking of the best answer to that statement. He had noticed how troubled Aramis truly was, ever since what happened at the convent. Of course Athos has been angry with Aramis, angry how he could so foolishly risk his own life and the one of the Queen as well. But what's done is done, and he could only hope his brother's restlessness was controlled and he was able to blend out everything that happened. However, he was deeply angered by the fact how little regret Aramis showed towards the whole matter.
"I know it's head versus heart, Aramis. Just…don't do something stupid, for the sake of my sanity, will you?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Aramis croaked.
"You think he is going to try to use us against the King?" Athos asked, quickly changing the subject as he noticed Ria murmuring something in her sleep. It's not as if it was obvious what Aramis and Athos had been talking about, but one could never be too sure.
"No clue," Aramis responded, uncomfortably fumbling with the chain, "Considering how the King behaves in front of Tréville at the moment, I doubt these idiots will succeed with that." He made a pause. "I just hope we meet this Baron de Terré tomorrow. I like to know who I am dealing with."
"Yes," Athos agreed, "I'd also like to know what these noblemen's strife is about."
Aramis bit his lip.
"If we don't get out of here by ourselves…do you think…?"
But Athos didn't let him finish his sentence.
"Porthos and d'Artagnan for sure have noticed our absence by now. You seriously think they'd just leave us to our fate?"
He watched Aramis close his eyes, letting this question sink in. He couldn't imagine Aramis would seriously ever doubt his brothers.
"No, you're right. Let's just hope that tomorrow, we know who we are dealing with."
"No, no, not like this!" d'Artagnan exclaimed, completely bugged out and quickly stepped up next to Jorac, the miller's son of the village. It was already late at night, and Porthos and d'Artagnan have been showing the willing people in the village the basics of combat.
The noble family as well as Gustav were well trained, so they helped them out and showed their people how to shoot a pistol and how to use a rapier.
D'Artagnan was showing Jorac for the what it felt like hundredth time how to move his body when engaged in a sword-fight, when they were interrupted by a horse galloping through the village's entrance archway and coming to a jolty halt in front of Dorian and Claude.
"My men just heard that Raston de Terré is expected home in about two hours. His men are already gathered. From how I assess his character, you might expect the next attack tomorrow. You should start to barricade the village and secure your people."
Claude reached into his pocket, got a little pouch, probably filled with gold, and tossed it to the rider.
"Thank you."
The rider tilted his head and disappeared as quickly as he appeared.
Claude and Dorian immediately hurried over to Porthos and d'Artagnan.
"We need to start securing the village. Will you help us?"
Porthos shook his head vigorously.
"That's nonsense. If he really does have as many men as you say, why risk that he reduces the buildings to dust and ashes? Why not meet him on a prepared battlefield in front of the village?"
"We have children here, Porthos," Dorian snapped, "How do you suggest we can guarantee their safety when there is no one here?"
Porthos raised his hands.
"Fair point. Then get the children out of here. Let at least two men guard them."
"Two men can't assure their safety," Claude interjected.
"Is there a village belonging to a baron you trust nearby?" d'Artagnan asked, desperate for solutions. Dorian gaped at him, not quite following their chain of thought.
"Is there one?" d'Artagnan asked more forcefully this time and addressed Claude.
The nobleman shrugged.
"Yes. The Baron de la Luire. About an one hour ride from here. We might give it a shot."
"Then get the children out of the line of fire, for god's sake," Porthos grumbled.
Dorian sighed.
"You're right. I probably should've done it before."
Porthos mumbled something before he turned to the archway of the village again.
"Let's barricade the village. They attacked from there until now you said?" he asked and motioned to the direction he referred to.
Claude nodded.
"Then let's get started," d'Artagnan said and readjusted his weapon belt around his waist, "we need to be prepared for an attack at dawn."
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