Thank you everyone for your feedback! Posting early because I need to work late tonight. There is a lot more to come...

Hang on for the bumpy ride ahead...

"I appreciate your help," Athos said as he and Walnut walked back to the front. "I would not have held it against you if you had not joined me."

"I know what you did," Walnut said. "We owe you a debt, Captain, and," he paused with a heavy shrug, "I nearly choked the life out of you."

"Captain!" Jacques ran toward him with a chest plate. "Your armor, Captain," he said and took a deep breath as he pulled himself to a stop. "The men are ready… they are just awaiting your command. The cannon fire has slowed and Porthos believes only a few of them are manned at the moment."

Athos nodded, and with Jacque's help, slipped into the heavy leather chest plate that circled his neck, protected his arms, flanks, and back. He wore it over his doublet, the right sleeve of the chest-plate had been removed to allow the armor to fit around his pauldron. He refused the heavy skirting and the thigh guards.

"Walnut," Athos said, "we need to get you some armor."

"Captain," Jacques said. "I don't think we have anything that would fit him."

"Don't need it," Walnut said. "If you need my strength, Captain. Armor will just restrict my movement." He rolled his shoulders and moved his head from left to right. The loud pops and cracks had both Athos and Jacques staring at him. Walnut nodded with a smile as more men gathered around.

"Six teams are ready, sir," Jacques walked beside them. "Aramis has prepared the musketeers from all regiments. 128 total, he's clustered them in groups to rotate the musket fire when the time comes. Captain Duris has asked that his cavalry ride in last if he's needed — he's got a strong unit, but given the lack of daylight he's concerned about the —"

"Ask Captain Duris to have his men dismount — the horses will not be any use to us… and I don't want our men trampled because the riders can't see," Athos said, and adjusted his weapons belt. "If his men can fire pistols and wield a sword," he looked toward the battlefield that in the hours to come would be bloody, "they need to be prepared to fight on foot."

"Is that all, sir?"

"The barricade line," Athos said and looked at Jacques. "Are they ready as well?"

Jacques nodded. "Lieutenant Porthos said that if we can get in and start, it shouldn't take us over eight minutes to cripple the cannons — less than a minute per cannon — if the bands can work quickly and the barricade line is successful."

Athos licked his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. "Let's hope the men can hold off the Spanish that long."

"Would you like me to take Monsieur Walnut to his band?"

"Yes," Athos said, and gripped the hilt of his sword. "Let Marc and Levi know to prepare their companies. Is d'Artagnan ready?"

Jacques nodded and pointed toward the far left side of the field. "He'll start a fire at your command so all the men will see it." He shifted his feet as his energy and anticipation continued to manifest. "Monsieur Walnut?" He said and looked up.

Walnut chuckled softly and said, "Just Walnut."

Jacques smiled and motioned with his hand. "This way, sir."

Walnut took a deep breath. "There's no sir — son — it's just Walnut. Just like the nut that falls from the tree." He followed with a shake of his head, knowing the young man hadn't heard him.

Athos took a deep breath, looked at the lines of men, with their weapons at the ready, groups already in squares to fire when commanded, reload, only to fire again. The six bands were at their mercy. Their backs would be to the enemy while they disabled the cannons. Knowing Aramis, Athos thought, he had already said his prayers, kissed the cross that hung from his neck, and placed his hand on the Bible he carried near his chest.

If they failed here, at least they would fail while fighting and not hiding within trenches or behind trees while cannons continued to uproot the lands and the plants and trees that inhabited it. Athos didn't want to fail. He didn't want to see his men fall in battle, nor did he want France to fail when her lands had been bloodied so many times before. He clutched the hilt of his sword, looked at young Billy as he led Kelpie toward him. The big black, despite the darkness that surrounded him, stood strong, on alert, and ready. His ears perked forward, his eyes were large, and his nostrils flared. Billy struggled to maintain his hold as Kelpie paced excitedly beside him.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Billy said. "I would have been here sooner, but in his excitement, Kelpie wouldn't hold still. I think he knows, sir."

Athos nodded and grabbed the reins below Kelpie's chin. "Get back to the horses and keep the mounts saddled in case we need them." He looked at Billy, who stepped back as Athos mounted.

"I'll see to it, sir," Billy said and watched Athos nudge Kelpie's sides and gallop toward the lines. He was one of the youngest Musketeers in the regiment, and he knew why Athos requested him off the field — not just to keep him safe and out of harm's way — but because all of the veteran Musketeers knew his grandmother. She had washed their clothing, their bedding, and even their minds a few times. Madame Nicolet Pagel, Billy shook his head. Even Athos knew not to cross her. After all, Billy shrugged, slipped his hands onto his belt and felt the strong leather against his fingers. Who would want to explain the death of a grandchild to a grandmother when that grandmother had frequently taken care of the Musketeers.

Billy watched as the flame at the end of the field was ignited. Within moments the men were moving, the pull of swords from scabbards sang and echoed throughout the air. It was soon joined by heavy pounding, musket and pistol fire, shouts, and the echoes of war.