Turn of Events

"Unhand that man, musketeer!" yelled another of the Cardinal's men. Jacque took the time to examine her situation. There were five men in red, one of which she had in her grasp currently, and the other four had drawn their swords. D'Artagnan, Ramon, and Siroc were not far behind as they had drawn out their weapons as well. She had her own rapier in her right hand while keeping the insolent man's arm twisted with her left. She ignored the demand.

"You dare touch that woman in such a way," she said in a low growl, glaring at the man she held captive.

"Musketeer, I warn you," said the man again, turning his wrist and bringing his rapier into an offensive position. "Unhand him now, or your captain will hear from us."

D'Artagnan circled around Jacque still pointing the tipped blade at the four men. "And the king will hear from us of how you mistreated one of his citizens. His majesty believes that people are to be treated as people, not animals." He was not one to waste an opportunity such as this. If he had a chance to anger or mock a follower of the Cardinal, he would take it.

"It is the lot of you who are the animals," the man spat, eyeing each musketeer with disgust. "Every one of you are filth."

While the banter continued, no one noticed how the man that Jacque had pinned underneath her grabbed a small knife from his belt. 'Make a fool of me, musketeer?' he thought excitedly, imagining how he could scar the flawless face above him. He gripped the knife tightly, waiting for the perfect moment.

"Watch out!" cried the bar maid, when she saw him grasping the knife. She brought her hands to her mouth in horror.

Jacque looked down, eyes widening in fear. She saw the dagger coming for her, wanting her blood, and instinctively ducked. For her own sake, she had to let go of his arm. Now that he was free, every soul in the tavern could hear the ringing sound of his sword. "I'll have your head!" he yelled. He lunged for Jacque, but she defended easily to the side watching him trip and fall to his knees.

"What would the Cardinal say if he saw his men, drunk and incoherent?" she asked, but he was up on his feet once more angrier than before. The other inhabitants of the tavern all gathered away from the fight, leaving behind their food and drinks. Some of the women screamed while a few of the men cheered for the musketeers.

D'Artagnan wasted no time in becoming offensive as he stepped forward and let his rapier sing. Two of the red coated men fended him off, while one fought Ramon and the other, Siroc. Instantly, the rhythmic clashing of metal against metal filled the tavern.

"Why do I get two of them?" d'Artagnan asked, neatly slicing off the shoulder seam of one of his men. He repeated severing off random bits of clothing from the two men, wanting with all his heart to embarrass the Cardinal in public. He enjoyed every moment that he had in his control.

"Because you are the son of a legend," Ramon answered. He stepped back fending off a blow from his opponent, and he easily blocked another. "Child's play!" he laughed. He found himself back to back with Siroc. "Are you worried about d'Artagnan?" he asked.

"Of course not," Siroc said with confidence, his rapier striking in rapid succession. He lunged forward, then retreated and lunged once again. When his back touched Ramon's, an idea struck him. "Duck please."

Both musketeers ducked as their rivals swung high above their heads neatly knocking off one another's black brimmed hats. Ramon and Siroc kicked the men's feet from under them smiling as they fell on their heads. "Nicely done," Siroc complimented helping Ramon up.

"Oh, gracias. Eh, behind you," Ramon said, as the small chat was interrupted and the two found themselves under attack again.

"For a bunch of drunk men, they are persistent and quick to their feet," Siroc said, turning around and locking swords with his adversary.

"Ah yes," Ramon agreed, and as the man lunged for him, Ramon grabbed his arm and succeeded in punching him in the jaw. "But they are sloppy."

Jacque kept on the balls of her feet while she and her opponent circled a small table that stood between them. She kicked a chair underneath the table, knocking the man's knees out. He fell against the table with his head, knocking himself to the floor. "Men," Jacque muttered under breath. She looked to see how her comrades were faring, and decided that Ramon and Siroc were fine, and d'Artagnan was in a way…cheating.

"I don't need help," he said, when their eyes met. "These two can barely stand on their own feet."

"That's because you have their pants wrapped around their legs," she said, but she let a smile play on her lips. The scene looked completely horrid, if one was a supporter of Cardinal Mazarin. His men tried to fight off a legend's son while attempting to keep their under garments on. The bar maids applauded the musketeers, and laughed whenever the Cardinal's men made fools of themselves.

Jacque turned back and saw that her man had made it back to his feet and had drawn his gun. She stood there, calm and waiting. "Aren't you afraid, musketeer?" he snickered. The little click that she heard, told her that he was being serious. "Well, aren't you?"

"Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned," she said simply.

"Wha…?" he started, but then glass shattered over his head. Wine spilled over the side of his face, and he fell to the ground. It didn't seem like he was going to be getting up any time soon.
The bar maid that he had abused earlier now held a broken bottle in her hands. "Don't you ever touch me like that again!" she yelled. She looked up at Jacque, and gave a triumphant smile.
Jacque nodded her thanks, and gave a small bow. She half expected the maid to take the bottle and continually stab the unconscious man, but then she realized that she would have done that herself. Though she had been hiding in a man for some time, she did not lose some of her wild farm girl personality traits.

"What is going on here?" boomed a loud voice as it broke over the noises of the fight. Immediately, the musketeers stopped everything they were doing. They knew that voice.

'Oh, damn…' everybody thought.

Captain Duval entered the tavern looking around in alarm. As he had seen, quite many a time in his days, his musketeers stood over several men, and they happen to follow the Cardinal.

"Someone better explain all of this to me…" he said, anger rising in voice. He could only imagine the outrageous story he was going to hear in a few moments.

"There is no need, Captain," said a light and cheery voice behind him.

The four musketeers looked at one another, unused to being saved from trying to figure out a believable reason to completely humiliate the Cardinal in public. D'Artagnan shrugged when his and Jacque's eyes met. She appeared slightly worried when d'Artagnan silently admitted he had no idea what was going on.

A young man stood behind Captain Duval, completely covered by the bigger man's frame. Jacque could see the curly blond hair and hints of a golden cloak that stuck out from Duval's silhouette. Only one person in all of France wore such fine garments, and when she realized who had pardoned their actions, she sheathed her rapier in a hurry. "Your Majesty!" she said in surprise, and knelt to one knee.

D'Artagnan, Ramon, and Siroc masked their surprise as best as they could when they also bowed to their king. D'Artagnan appeared calm and collected, but his nerves were racing and his heart was beating wildly. He looked over to Ramon and Siroc, and they seemed to be feeling the same. The tavern fell silent in the presence of their king, and the only sound heard was the groaning from the men who were thoroughly beaten.

Captain Duval stepped aside revealing the young man, and bowed to him. "Your Majesty, I do not know…" he started.

Louis held up his hand to stop him. "No explanation needed, Captain Duval," he said, baring the cheeky smile that he always had. "I saw everything." He began stepping down into the heart of the tavern looking around as though he had never been inside one of the lesser vicinities of Paris.

Jacque glanced up at her king to see Louis approaching her. He motioned her to stand up, and she did so reluctantly. "My good man…" the king started, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He gently pulled her along to join him in his stroll of the tavern. "I saw what you did, and I am thrilled to see such loyalty to my people." They stopped at the two men d'Artagnan had fought moments ago. Louis turned his nose up at them. "You and your fellow men are to report to Cardinal Mazarin about your hideous behavior," he hissed at them. The king turned his attention to Jacque again and both stepped over the tangled heap below them.

"If you do not mind me asking, Your Majesty…" Jacque began. "What are you doing outside the castle?" she had to hunch over a bit to stay level with Louis' height, and it was giving her a small backache, but she endured it.

Louis beamed. "Why, today is Tuesday, my good man! Today, I am hunting! I went to the Musketeer Academy in hopes of finding decent escorts. Naturally, I had asked for D'Artagnan…" he squealed. Jacque didn't have to look at d'Artagnan to see his ego swell.

"And I was told that he was here. From the moment that you saved that young woman, I have seen everything that has happened. Now then, I have decided that I want you, d'Artagnan, and privates Ramon and Siroc to accompany me on this beautiful day."

D'Artagnan, Ramon, and Siroc were now on their feet, looking to Captain Duval for approval. "It would honor me to have these four escort you to the hunting grounds, Your Majesty," Duval said, he straightened his posture, standing tall with pride for his musketeers.

"Then it is decided!" Louis exclaimed. He clapped his hands rapidly, and a horse was brought just outside the door to the tavern. "I already have horses ready for four escorts. We leave immediately!" he laughed heartily when he made his way outside.