Slowly, through the smoke, figures began to appear. It was D'Artagnan who appeared first. There where two holes in his cape but other than that, he was alive. His blade was leveled at the guards. Athos and Porthos where behind him. They too where unharmed. Aramis appeared next. There was a bullet graze on his left knee and he was limping but he still stood, his blade raised. Then came Phillippe, unscathed. And last of all, came Celeste. She had been the most fortunate. A bullet had grazed her temple and blood tricked down the side of her face, but her eyes where clear. She raised to blade and pointed it straight at Louis. Her hands was shaking slightly but she stood firm.
The musketeers stared at them, as did Louis.
Suddenly, Andre stepped forward. He drew his sword and saluted him with it. His men followed his example, saluting and bowing to the extraordinary courage of these men they had grown up wanting to follow. And the young lady that held all their hearts.
Louis froze.
D'Artagnan looked at Phillippe. He breathed a sigh of relief to see he was unharmed. He turned back to Louis.
Louis stepped forward and grabbed Andre's dagger in one smooth move. He came forward slowly. Then he whirled and leapt at Phillippe.
"No!" cried D'Artagnan. He threw himself between his sons, hurling Louis backwards and knocking Phillippe aside. Louis's knife sank high on D'Artagnan's shoulder.