3. Two Fights
The next morning found the four Musketeers sitting at their customary table in the Café Nouveau for a morning coffee and croissant. D'Artagnan and Ramon were joking as usual while Siroc listened with amusement plain on his face. Jacqueline tried to look interested, but she was obviously preoccupied, dissecting her breakfast and prodding her black eye with fidgeting fingers. D'Artagnan and Jacqueline acted as though nothing unusual had happened between them last night.
"… So that's why I came back late last night. Women just like the mysterious, tall, dark, and handsome type, I guess; the poetry with a Spanish accent really gets them," Ramon gushed unashamedly about his evening as he winked at an admiring waitress.
D'Artagnan wore his roguish grin as he said, "Women can be so easy to see through; right, Jacques?" He elbowed her roughly.
"Yeah, sure," she replied absentmindedly, staring intently at a man by the door. He leaned over the counter to talk to a friendly barmaid. After receiving his cup of coffee, he picked his way over towards the Musketeer's table. Jacqueline paled as the blonde man came closer, and she hid her face as he passed by. D'Artagnan followed the man with lowered eyes and looked at Jacqueline questioningly.
She sneaked a glance back to make sure he was not looking her way before excusing herself. "I've got to go do something. Duval asked me to yesterday." Jacqueline ran out of the café with the speed of a frightened deer. D'Artagnan frowned at her back and exchanged shrugs with Siroc and Ramon. His gaze lingered on the door for another moment before a red uniform appeared directly in front of him.
He looked up to see the smirking face of a Cardinal's guard. Standing to meet the man eye to eye, he saw that he had been surrounded by ten or more red clad soldiers. "You are under arrest for the attempted murder of the Honorable Cardinal Mazarin."
"Honorable?" d'Artagnan asked, swinging around to see all of the men. "Ten against three doesn't seem like a fair fight to me."
"We had to take into account your reputation for… evading capture," he replied mockingly. "Will you come willingly?" Ramon and Siroc stood and all three Musketeers drew their rapiers. The café cleared out quickly with the threat of a fight, and three more Musketeers turned from their tables to join their comrades, blades drawn.
"I didn't think so," the Cardinal's man admitted, motioning his guards to follow him in drawing against the Musketeers. He made the first move, cutting in sideways at d'Artagnan.
At that moment, all the other fighters began their battle. Siroc and Ramon flipped over their table to knock two reds to the floor. Another two Musketeers fought back to back, dispatching one guard, then another. Two more Cardinal's guards came to take their fallen comrades' place.
A guard on the floor endeavored to trip Ramon who jumped up on a chair to avoid the swinging table leg and slashed the man's arm with the tip of his blade. He leaped off to body slam a guard who had locked blades with Siroc. Ramon caught the man's neck in his arm and slammed his head on a table before letting him drop to the ground. He looked up as a bullet flew past his head from Siroc's pistol to stop a guard charging him from behind. "Thanks, mi amigo!" They turned together to face another Cardinal underling.
At the bar, a mustached Musketeer was hurling bottles at a guard who was very apt at dodging them. The grey fighter dropped behind the bar once more. The red man crept forward slowly and was surprised by a basket of rolls thrown into his face. A bottle of red wine broke over his head as a bold barmaid snuck up behind him. "It wasn't a good year," she said sheepishly; the surprised Musketeer saluted her with a flourish.
Meanwhile, d'Artagnan and the Cardinal's lieutenant continued their intense duel. They appeared equally matched, and neither could gain an upper hand. Behind them, the Musketeers were cornering the three guards left standing. The Cardinal supporters dropped their weapons, outnumbered two to one.
With a wild lunge, d'Artagnan knocked the lieutenant's blade out of his hand. The man swallowed hard when d'Artagnan rested the tip of his blade at his throat. "This changes nothing," he croaked. "We will arrest you in due time."
"I suggest you carry out your wounded before they stain the floor," d'Artagnan spat at him. "I'd hate for the lovely ladies here to have to clean up this scum." D'Artagnan lowered his rapier and motioned for the other Musketeers to follow suit. With one last glare he led them out of the café, leaving the Cardinal's guards to drag their wounded out.
"…And I don't want to see you starting fights in the middle of the café anymore!" Duval roared at the six Musketeers lined up at attention in his office. "Leave," he waved them off and walked behind his desk, "except you, d'Artagnan."
D'Artagnan spun back around to face his captain. Ramon patted his friend's shoulder as he filed out behind the others. Siroc closed the door quietly behind him.
"Sir, we had no choice. I couldn't let them arrest me for something I didn't do! Mazarin would have—"
"I am perfectly aware of what Mazarin would do with you in his grasp," Duval growled taking a seat behind his desk. "I just can't let the men go Guard hunting. The balance of power is very delicate now; Mazarin has all the ammunition he needs to disband the Musketeers. If he manages to convince Louis that you were responsible… I just don't know if I could stop him." He looked up at d'Artagnan seriously. "I'm afraid that you are confined to the garrison until this assassin is caught and your name is cleared."
"Sir, that is unreasonable! That could take months—or what if we never catch him? I can't hide in here forever," d'Artagnan protested.
"Well then, private, you'd better pray that we find him soon," Duval told him matter-of-factly. It was obviously a dismissal, and d'Artagnan left seething, teeth clenched.
