TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.
Chapter Nineteen.
Garrison Cells.
The two Englishmen exchanged irresolute glances before looking up towards the cell door as it scraped open, the rasping sound reverberating down the passageway. That instant movement and scuffle from Porthos prompted both men to stagger backwards against the stone wall as he grabbed a man in each hand around the throat.
"ATHOS...IS DEAD...BECAUSE OF YOU TWO BASTARDS." growled the big man, his loud roaring voice resounding around the stone walls.
James Payne gasped for breath as he attempted to speak.
"We informed you...where he was...it was not we who lit the fuses."
Porthos gripped Payne by the scruff and pulled him towards himself. The man wincing in discomfort.
"You won't get away with this...I'll make certain of it. I'll cut yer bloody 'ead off...you murderin' scum."
Ned Wade moved forward away from the wall only to be thrust back with force again by Aramis as he shoved the man into the masonry.
Wade was red faced with a clenched jaw as he glared at the marksman.
"Did you not heed what was said musketeers, we did not light the fuses that killed your friend."
"But you would have done if we had not apprehended you both, do not try my patience." seethed Aramis. "You are just as much to blame for this and will be tried for the murder of a kings musketeer."
Ned Wade was suddenly thrown to the dusty ground by Porthos as he stood enraged, his eyes filling with seething rage as he clenched his fists with a crack of the knuckles.
"You told us we would receive passage back to England...you cannot go back on your word...the king will not permit it." gasped the Englishman as he attempted to get to his feet.
d'Artagnan grabbed him by the collar and glared into his face.
"WE LIED! said the Gascon through clenched teeth." And as for the king...he wants you both executed forthwith."
"You cannot do this musketeers, you vowed we would return to England." said James Payne massaging his throat and wincing.
Captain Tréville suddenly joined his men, the older man walked into the cell and glared at the two men.
"We vowed nothing...as my men have said...you will both be executed."
"We did not kill your musketeer Tréville...this is a travesty of justice." seethed Ned Wade.
Tréville glanced at his men before averting his eyes back to the two Englishmen.
"Who were you both working for? he suddenly asked. "And do not even endeavour to lie."
James Payne was breathing hard from the sudden melee.
"We are not working for anyone...it would seem your notions are lame captain."
The musketeer captain became suddenly enraged as he eyed both men, he knew damn well they were working for Cardinal Durand, he just wanted to heed them declare it. He needed the proof for the king.
"You expect me to believe that? growled Tréville. "Why else would you be in France...you sailed over with Cardinal Durand from England did you not? and suddenly receive commission into the red guard regiment."
Both Englishmen stood hesitant, each one hoping the other would reply.
"ANSWER THE CAPTAIN! roared Porthos.
"You may have journeyed on the same galleon, but it doth not mean we are working for him." replied Ned Wade. "The Cardinal was somewhat impressed with our soldiering skills...that is all."
Aramis smiled wryly and shook his head as he walked towards both men.
"Your folly is quite a tale gentlemen, but alas my comrades and I do not take kindly to such yarns do we my friends." Aramis glanced back at his brothers before averting back to the Englishmen. "You both knew where Athos was being held."
"Hate fairytales...never enjoyed them as a child." said d'Artagnan sardonically.
"Me neither." growled Porthos staring at both men. "Always get the truth in the end...especially when it's 'elped along with some punches, and a noose around yer neck."
Tréville sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced up at his men.
"Come gentlemen...we will return later."
"You cannot just leave us here to starve to death." yelled Ned Wade as the musketeers turned to leave.
Aramis glared scornfully back at both men.
"You left our friend alone without food and water, you left him there shackled in manacles knowing what was going to happen, I would say that is torture...what would you call it?
Porthos slammed the cell door shut with such force it created dust to swirl up from the ground.
"GO TO HELL! he growled. "By the time I 'ave finished with yer both, you will be pleadin' with me to let you starve."
oooo
The rain had abated slightly, thunder still rolled in the distance as the storm waned.
The elderly man tugged at the leather straps over his cart and tightened it over the chicken coops making certain they were secure before wrapping them over with woven flax.
He suddenly paused in his task, the sound of gasps from the field behind had prompted him to grab his pistol from the horses pistoleer and turn rapidly.
The man stood rigid as he scanned his surroundings seeing nothing but the swaying trees and long grass, his eyes casting downwards as he noticed what looked akin to someone attempting to crawl through the meadow. The elderly man slowly approached, his pistol gripped in his right hand as he peered through the bracken.
Athos had halted in his attempt to move, the pain searing through his body like a hot blade, his bloodied hands gripping the grass as he gasped in short breaths. The injured musketeer suddenly felt a warmth on his shoulder, he managed to lift his head slightly seeing two pairs of woven calico clad legs.
"Young man...you are wounded...who are you? Who pray has afflicted such a heinous deed upon you?
Athos could hear the voice, someone spoke, he gasped again for breath. He felt someone turn him on his back and hold his head, he felt water trickle into his dry sooty mouth, it felt cold, it felt good. He heard the voice again as he squinted his eyes to look, the face was a white shape, the mouth was moving but he couldn't hear. Who is this, have my brothers come, the water again in the mouth, his breaths laboured as darkness enveloped him.
oooo
Garrison Dining Chamber.
A silence had enveloped the whole chamber as the musketeers sat in their own world of grief stricken musings.
d'Artagnan stared into the embers of the fire grate as Serge threw on more wood logs.
Aramis sipped from his wine goblet and pushed his untouched ham and bread away. The marksman even noticed his big friend had not even eaten much.
Porthos poured ale into a tankard and drank.
"I miss the boy already...he made me titter with his highbrow wit." murmered Serge as he joined the musketeers at the table.
Aramis nodded slowly as he glanced up at the elderly veteran.
"He was a man of few words Serge, but when he spoke we all listened."
Porthos wiped his hands over his face and swigged some ale.
"Yeah...we did...made me chuckle a few times, he didn't even know he was jestin', he would look at me wonderin' why I was laughin'."
The others nodded agreement.
"In the last year that I have known him he had taught me alot, I felt like I had known him years." commented d'Artagnan, his voice almost breaking in mid sentence.
Aramis squeezed the young Gascons shoulder to comfort him and poured him some wine.
"It don't seem fair...I've lived all these years." sniffed Serge. " He was only a young man, his whole life in front of 'im."
"You cannot think that way Serge...you taught us all when we were cadets." growled Porthos. "Athos wouldn't want yer to feel like that."
That moment Brujon entered the dining chamber, bottle of brandy in hand.
The musketeers hardly noticed the young man as they sat musing.
Brujon placed the bottle on the table and shot a glance at each musketeer.
"Compliments of Captain Tréville...I would imagine you all need it. I am finding it hard to believe I won't see Lieutenant Athos again."
The boy swallowed hard as Porthos opened the bottle and poured some in a cup for the lad.
"Ere...get that down yer boy." he said handing the cup to Brujon.
"The captain won't be happy if I drink on duty." murmered the cadet.
Porthos filled everyones goblets.
"You 'ave an excuse...now drink! ordered the big man. "The captain's mind is on other things at present."
Aramis picked up his goblet and stood, his eyes glazed over with emotion as he held the ornate glass up high and glance around the table.
"To Athos...our brother...our comrade, you will live in our hearts forever mon ami."
Everyone had stood to their feet.
To Athos filled the chamber in unison as the musketeers drank to their lost brother.
oooooOOooooo
TBC...
Hi Guys,
You are all so kind with your comments, thank you so much.
I can imagine you are all wondering what is coming next, will the elderly man find out who Athos is and return him to the Garrison.
Will update ASAP!
Speak soon
Pippa xxx
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