Dupllcity
Chapter Six
Another day of travel passed without incident. As the sun began its slow descent towards evening the Musketeers began to look for a suitable place to camp. It had been several hours since they had seen an inn but the air was warm and dry so a night spent outside would be no hardship.
They followed the sound of water and soon reached a wide and fast flowing river. The bank was lined with reeds. Further back from the river was a flat grassy area which would suit their needs perfectly.
Aramis looked doubtfully at the water. "I don't think we'll be catching any fish for supper. It's flowing fast enough to knock a grown man off his feet."
"We have the food we purchased at the inn. It isn't exactly a feast but it should sustain us. We will arrive in Calais tomorrow and will be able to procure more substantial fare." Athos unsaddled his horse before leading it to the river to drink.
Caring for the horses and setting up camp took very little time. They worked efficiently together and were soon settled down with their meagre supper. Bread and ham was washed down with wine from the flask Athos produced from his saddle bags. They talked of inconsequential things, each shying away from the topic that was straining the bonds of friendship.
Darkness fell late on that early summer's day and the sky was barely tinged with the pinks and oranges of sunset when they sought their bedrolls. Weapons lay close at hand although they had seen nothing to trouble them on their journey. Athos remained convinced that LeGrange had sent them away for reasons other than a threat to the letter they carried.
His belief proved to be misplaced as he came awake several hours later to find a pistol pointed at his head. He kept his eyes fixed upon his assailant as he reached instinctively for his sword.
"Touch it and you die," the man said.
Athos sat up slowly, somewhat encouraged by the fact that the move wasn't forbidden. The man holding him at gunpoint took a few prudent steps back so that he was out of reach of a sudden lunge. The pistol never wavered. A quick glance showed him that his friends were equally beset. "What do you want?"
"You're carrying a letter from the King. Hand it over and we'll be on our way."
"I don't know what you're talking about." The men were all masked, which puzzled Athos. Thanks to their carelessness they could have been shot as they slept and their bodies and baggage searched. It appeared, therefore, that their lives were not immediately at risk if they cooperated. Not that he had the slightest intention of letting them ride away with the letter. Its loss would be another nail in the coffin of the regiment.
The man didn't bother arguing with them. He simply gestured towards the thug menacing d'Artagnan. "If he doesn't tell me where it is in the next thirty seconds shoot that one in the leg."
"Let's not be hasty," Athos said. "If you walk away now we'll let you live."
There was genuine amusement in the laugh which greeted that ultimatum. Athos quickly scanned the faces of the other three men. It was hard to tell what they were thinking when only their eyes were visible but all three seemed to be content to follow the lead of the man standing in front of him. One with a brain and three hired muscle then was his thought. He filed that away knowing that his friends would be doing the same.
"You seem to be ignoring the fact that we're the ones with the guns." The man's voice was tinged with amusement.
"And you seem to be forgetting that we're highly trained soldiers."
"Soldiers who were careless enough to be captured. Shoot him."
"Wait," Athos called desperately. "What's so important about the letter?"
Their leader gestured to tell the man to hold off. "How would I know? We've been paid to deliver it and that's all that matters to me. Now, hand it over before I lose patience."
Athos licked his lips before nodding. "I'll fetch it." The gun barrel jerked to indicate that he could stand. His three companions might look subdued but he knew they were coiled as tight as springs just waiting for him to make his move. He walked slowly over to the heap of saddlebags, searching until he found the right one. Holding the saddlebag in his left hand he held out the letter.
"Bring it here."
He waited until he was no more than six feet away before hurling the saddlebag at the man's face. Anticipating a reflexive discharge of the pistol he moved quickly to the side. The ball whistled past him. There was an explosion of movement from Aramis, d'Artagnan and Porthos. Two other pistols were discharged but Athos couldn't spare the time to see if they had done any damage. He was too far away from his sword so he closed quickly with his opponent, driving a brutal punch into his stomach. As the man doubled over Athos' second blow caught him under the chin forcing him the stumble backwards to keep his balance. He could hear the clash of blades now.
His next few punches were blocked by his opponent's arm, then he was the one retreating. His right foot became momentarily tangled in the discarded saddlebag. That slowed him long enough to allow the man to close the distance and deliver a punch that caught Athos on the left side of his face. The letter fluttered out of his hand as he found himself fighting for his life He was caught in a bear hug which quickly tightened alarmingly. He'd faced this manoeuvre many times from Porthos and had practiced several methods of escape. He chose the most unforgivable, raising his knee and connecting solidly with the man's groin. The arms surrounding him loosened their hold and he wrenched himself free.
He pressed his advantage, driving his foe backwards. What he had failed to notice was their proximity now to the river. His opponent's foot slipped off the bank. As the man teetered on the edge, he reached out desperately to grab Athos' arm. In a flurry of limbs they both fell. The icy water robbed Athos of his breath. Water closed over his head, the current engulfed him and he was swept away.
Tbc