It was next morning Celeste rode her black horse into the courtyard of the monastery again. She reigned her horse in sharply at what she saw.

Behind her, magnificent public buildings rose high and graced the city's skyline. But here, there was filth everywhere. The courtyard of the church was crowded with beggars. And at the center of them was a wagon.

Celeste recognized Andre and some of the other musketeers getting out of the wagon.

"Here is food, the gift of you loving king, on his birthday! He gives to himself by giving to you., in that he loves you so much."

Celeste's eyebrow rose skeptically.

Slowly at first, the paupers stood and shuffled forward.

Other musketeers began handing out food. Bread, cabbages, tomatoes, and eggs where passed out.

A large crowd quickly gathered and the jostling from the food began.

"No need to fight!" called Andre. "There's plenty for all!"

Suddenly, one of the beggar broke open his loaf of bread and took a bite out of it. He wrinkled his nose and spat it out. "This stuff sinks!" he shouted. "It is rotting! The king is giving us rotten food!"

Celeste sat up straighter as he hurled the bread back at the soldiers.

The paupers gathered around it and suddenly, anger was thick in the air. They began hurling the food back at the soldiers. Then someone in the crowd threw a rock and it crashed through a store window and the riot broke loose. The mob swarmed over the soldiers and began dragging them down the street toward the palace.

Celeste gasped as Andre disappeared from her sight. She spurred her black stallion forward and ran right through the middle of the mob, scattering them to the side. Suddenly, a hand clamped on her boot and she looked down. "Andre!" She reached down and grabbed his hand.

Andre vaulted up behind her. "Go!"

"But the others!"

"Go!"

D'Artagnan was ridding through the great courtyard that set just in front of the palace gates when he heard the mob. He turned, holding tightly to the reigns of his prancing Grey stallion. He gasped.

Only feet in front of the mob, rode Celeste, Andre clinging behind her. And steps ahead of the mob, where the other two musketeers.

Suddenly, a large hand reached up and grabbed Celeste and jerked her down. She disappeared into the crowd with an alarming speed.

Andre turned. "Mademoiselle!"

D'Artagnan turned his horse now. "Celeste!"

The words she had spoken yesterday echoed inside his head. "Someone you love could get hurt." He cursed vehemently.

Suddenly, the mob curved right around her and she bounded to her feet. They all knew who she was. It was on thing to take the musketeers but Celeste…They all knew her to be the niece of D'Artagnan.

Celeste had her sword out but was backing away from the mob.

Andre reigned in Celeste's horse next to D'Artagnan. "They're rioting!"

D'Artagnan spurred his horse forward. He bent down and held out his hand, stretching as far as he could without tumbling off.

Celeste grabbed his hand and he jerked her up behind him. She was gasping for air and clung to him.

"Go back to the palace, Andre," said D'Artagnan. "Close the gates but do not fire."

Andre slid off Celeste's horse and Celeste let go of D'Artagnan and regained her saddle. Her braid had come hopelessly undone and there was a long cut on the left side of her face. It reached from the top of her head all the way down to her chin. It was a thin cut with a thin line of blood showing.

D'Artagnan sat calmly, waiting for the mob. His horse pranced slightly but he held it in check.

Celeste eyed the mob carefully but her hand rested on her sword hilt.

The mob slowed slightly seeing the two musketeers, one dashing and the other brilliantly beautiful, waiting confidently for them. But there where several, scattered throughout the mob, that urged them on.

"To the palace!"

Several ruffians rushed up and grabbed the reigns of the horses.

Celeste's stallion sat still but quivered with anger.

D'Artagnan's reared back, jerking its reigns free.

Celeste moved slightly and her horse reared up on its hign legs and trumpeted loudly.

The ruffians backed up slightly.

"It's D'Artagnan!" The whisper ran through the mob like wildfire. "Le Generale de Musketeers! The lady…his niece, Mademoiselle Celeste!" The mob hesitated. The names of D'Artagnan and his niece meant heroism and patriotism to them all.

One of the larger ruffians shouted loudly, "Two musketeers can't stop us!"

"Stop, you," said Celeste. "You are a Frenchman, are you not?" Her blue eyes bore into him. "I am one of you."

"The King is a Frenchman, but he is not one of us!"

The mob roared in agreement.

"Citizens of Paris!" shouted D'Artagnan. "Give ear to me!"

The ruffian Celeste had spoke to, grinned. "We'll give you their ears!" He drew a dagger from his filthy shirt and put it to the ear of one of the Musketeers that they had dragged through the streets.

Celeste glanced at her Uncle.

"Wait! And listen! I beg you!" said D'Artagnan.

"They gave us garbage!"

"Not fit for rats!"

"They think we are garbage!" cried different people through the crowd.

Suddenly, someone hurled a moldy beet through the air, straight at D'Artagnan.

Celeste's eyes flickered.

D'Artagnan's head turned. He saw the beet flying toward him. In one slick movement, he drew his sword and cut the beet straight from the air.

The courtyard fell silent.

Andre, who was behind the gates, holding a rifle in his hands, blinked.

The crowd began to mummer.

Someone threw a head of lettuce.

D'Artagnan sliced it in half and skewered one of the pieces onto the point of his sword.

Celeste smiled as she held the reigns of her horse and relaxed slightly.

"I'm on my way to a salad!" called D'Artagnan. "Doesn't anybody have an endive?"

The mob laughed and someone tossed another lettuce, which D'Artagnan divided and skewered.

The crowd burst into applause.

"A tomato?" asked D'Artagnan.

Two where hurled and he speared both of them.

The ruffian holding one of the musketeers, took a tomato and hurled it right at Celeste.

Celeste looked at it calmly. For a spilt second she didn't move. Then she quickly drew her pistol and fired.

The tomato exploded.

The crowd roared their approval.

One more tomato was thrown to D'Artagnan and he spread it. He took a bit of it. His face contorted with the rotten taste and he spit it out.

The crowd fell silent.

"You are right," said D'Artagnan. "It is rotten. I will speak to the King myself. You have my word."

The mob nodded, won over by D'Artagnan and Celeste.

Celeste moved her horse forward.

The ruffian moved his knife back to the soldier's neck.

Celeste sword touched the back of his neck lightly. "And you will release those men. They serve France…and you."

The mob raised their hands and roared. "Three cheers for D'Artagnan…and his niece, Mademoiselle Celeste!"

The two soldiers, who moments ago where about to meet their end, stood and looked at Celeste and D'Artagnan with gratitude and awe. They where now forgotten as the mob now has only eyes for Celeste and D'Artagnan.

D'Artagnan calmly raked his blade clean and turned his horse around. He and Celeste escorted the soldiers back into the palace.

Andre held out his hand to Celeste. She took it and swung off her horse.

"Milady, I must thank you. You saved my life out there today."

Celeste smiled at him. "Think nothing of it, Andre." She went off toward the stables, leading her horse.

D'Artagnan looked at Andre. He was staring after Celeste. "Magnificent," he said.

"Yes," said D'Artagnan. "She is." He followed his niece to the stables.

She was stroking her horse's nose. She didn't even turn when she heard him behind her. "I tried to tell you."

"You did. And I should have listened. I put you in needless danger and that is the gravest of offenses to me."