A Hunting Trip Gone Awry

The royal carriage was pulled by two horses down the narrow dirt road that followed the river. The season had become wild, and the river overflowed with deeper depths and stronger currents. Siroc was not sure that his sub-aquatic chamber would be maneuvered as easily as the first trial run, but he did not mind a good challenge. His head began forming plans and blueprints of ways to make the chamber more adaptable to the changes of the river.

Siroc guarded Louis' carriage from the rear while Jacque rode on the left side and D'Artagnan on the right. Ramon was given the privilege of maneuvering the royal coach, and he took advantage of every second. They were grateful that Louis decided not to take Mazarin with him on the hunting trip. One could only imagine the schemes that would form inside the Cardinal's mind that were made to put the musketeers to shame.

Louis figured, what good would a political advisor do unless he himself carried a gun for the event. Besides, Mazarin hated his hounds, but Louis loved them so. They were running up ahead of them, playfully nipping at one another and letting out low growls every so often.
Jacque really had no idea how hunting worked. As much as she had learned from her father and brother, hunting was something that only the men did in the Roget family. Her father refused to take her with him whenever they were in need of meat for the season. She felt lost and insignificant, for she was used to planting and sowing seeds, up heaving weeds, anything that had to do with tending to a farm. She had to play this by ear.

"Private Laponte?" the king requested. His hand had emerged from the carriage window, and it gestured for her to come closer to the carriage.
Jacque pulled on the reigns gently to move closer to the window. "Yes, your majesty?"

"I was wondering if I might have a word with you," Louis pulled away the curtains that fell around frame of the window. He tucked them behind a small hinge that was built into the corner of the small confinement.

"Of course, sire," Jacque said, keeping pace with the coach.

"I could not help but notice how you uh…" Louis lowered his voice. "Well, that is, the woman in Café Nouveau, well she absolutely adored you! Tell me, how did you do it?" he asked eagerly, poking his head out. His eyes were full of curiosity, and suddenly Jacque was marked with the role of being a teacher and Louis was her student.

She stared at him blankly for a few seconds wondering where to even begin. This was not that the type of small talk one would normally have with a king. She felt like a big sister all of a sudden, giving advice to a young sibling. She had to think quickly before she rose suspicion. How would a heartbreaker reply? And she found it; all she had to was think of D'Artagnan.

"Well, your majesty, one must be charming, charismatic, daring… but at the same time humble," she said. She added the last bit out of her own nature. She had no idea how D'Artagnan managed as much arrogance as he did with women. Jacque looked across the window through its parallel partner and saw the man that filled half of her thoughts. The more she thought of him, the more she suspected that his actions were a façade. Perhaps, there was more to him than he let on. She saw parts of him that she was sure Ramon and Siroc never witnessed, but she had to blame that on the fact that he knew she was a woman.

"Charming, charismatic, daring, and humble…" Louis repeated, considering each one with deep thought. "Anything else?"

Jacque broke off her eye contact with D'Artagnan when he caught her stare and gave her a grand smile. She slapped on a serious expression once more, ignoring the heart melting expression that was thrown her way. When her eyes rested on Louis, she tried not to smile when she saw the young man holding up four fingers. One finger seemed to represent each of her suggestions to him. "Yes, your majesty," she said. "The most important thing is to just be yourself."

"Be myself," Louis said. "That doesn't seems so hard."

"Your majesty, may I have permission to speak freely?" Jacque asked. She had a small suspicion.

Louis nodded, still counting his fingers and remembering one trait for each finger. "You may."

"Is there someone that you are trying to impress?" she asked trying not to embarrass not the king, but the boy that was growing up to be a man. "Is there someone that holds your interest?"

Louis looked at Jacque feeling the blush creeping on his cheeks. "Well, there is a woman that serves me tea in the morning…"

"No worries, your majesty," Jacque said giving him a warm smile. It made her happy that she could assist Louis in more ways than just protecting him. "Just remember what I told you."
He clapped his hands merrily. "My thanks, private Laponte," then he waved her off to return to her post. She nodded and pulled away from the carriage.

Ramon called out, "We are here your majesty," and pulled the coach to a stop. The musketeers dismounted from their horses and gathered around. Ramon jumped from his seat and set out to open Louis' door. He fell to one knee and let loose the two steps that lowered to the ground for the king's convenience.

Louis stepped out of the carriage and inhaled a deep breath. The air was warm and fresh, and a light breeze flowed through his hair. "What a wonderful day for hunting! Let us prepare!"
While the king called for his hounds to come to him, D'Artagnan, Ramon, and Siroc were setting up for the hunt. Jacque was doing less than her share of the work because she had no idea what to do. D'Artagnan silently guided her, teaching the fundamentals of hunting. When he found her wandering around observing more than doing, he motioned for her to follow what he did.

He watched her as much as she did him, but bother were oblivious to the attention the other was getting. He saw that she was hesitant to do something much less touch anything they brought along. His hand found hers, and he handed her a rifle. She was startled at the light touch. She looked at the weapon and nodded her appreciation. Being with the musketeers taught her a few things about guns at the very least. 'He knew that,' she thought. "Now what do we do?" she asked, as she prepared Louis' rifle.

"Well, basically, we hide in the high hedges of the field, wait for those drooling masses of flesh to scare out the prey, and we watch his highness shoot them down," D'Artagnan said. "Simple."

Louis walked to his trusted guards, almost skipping to them in glee. "Now we shall begin," he said in anticipation, but his excitement died when a flock of pheasant were scared out of the field. Louis huffed then began yelling for his hounds. "Suzette! Lise…!" he shouted, but D'Artagnan stopped him.

"Your majesty, your hounds are here," he said, looking a few from where they stood.

"What?" Louis said in disbelief, but he looked next to him and it was true. His beloved canine hunters were with him. They were not the ones to scare away the game. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Your majesty, behind me, now," Jacque said quickly. She did not think of the taboos of the personal space of royalty, and she did not care. Something was wrong, and she grabbed Louis by his arm and shoved him behind her.

Siroc wasted no time in dropping everything that he had in his hands, and taking hold of his rapier. Ramon was not far behind, and he completed the four man circle that formed around Louis. "Sire, what ever should happen, stay with us," Siroc said, scanning the field.
The king started biting his nails, looking around frantically. He jumped when his hounds barked loudly at the field. Their cries grew fiercer which each passing second. The barks weren't meant to scare prey any longer, it was to warn their master that he was in danger.

The four musketeers did not need to wait long to see several men rise from the tall blades of grass. They stood ready, prepared to protect their king from any peril. "Your majesty, please stay inside the carriage. They are more in number, and we may not be able to watch you," Jacque said. "No matter what happens, you must stay their for own safety." She thrust one her knives into his hand. "In case you need it," she said. Louis obeyed, grabbing the knife tightly in his grasp and ran into the carriage. He whistled for his hounds to follow him, and they did so.

The men were now close by, and the musketeers now saw that they were armed with blades and pistols. D'Artagnan moved close to Jacque. "Bandits. Probably from the Darkwoods Gang." He went straight for the horses that were attached to the coach. With a few slices of his rapier and a couple of strong kicks, they were set free.

"What are you doing?" Jacque asked, watching the horses run off.

"They begin firing off those pistols, and they'll scare the horses. If the horses starting running away, then so does our king, and any means of protection for him that we have. They must be furious that we locked up Snout and Fishface."

"Well, they can have a nice little reunion in a cell for all I care," Jacque said, preparing herself for battle.

Siroc stepped in between D'Artagnan and Jacque. "Gentlemen, not to ruin the moment or anything, but I believe our friends want a word."
One of the bandits drew out his pistol, and shouted, "For Snout, you rotten musketeers!"

"Well, maybe more than a word." Siroc proceeded in pulling his three friends behind the carriage as the bullets came flying by. "I believe we just skipped over the basic rules of engagement."

"What rules?" Ramon asked, wincing as a bullet grazed the wheel next to his head.

"Well…" Siroc said, pulling out his own pistol. "First we start a vicious conversation in which we provoke the other party, second, one man makes the first move to begin the bout, then third we eventually defeat them without effort and carry on with our day." He returned fire, aiming for one of the bandit's hands. The man howled in pain when he felt his hand being pierced by metal, and he dropped the pistol to the ground.

"One down," Siroc said as he turned back around just in time as a bullet whipped past his face.

Jacque fired off her pistol, succeeding in shooting another man in the leg. They were drawing closer now. "Musketeers!" she heard them cry. They charged for the carriage, swords now drawn.

"Looks like we're going to have to ignore the third rule," D'Artagnan said. "We might actually have to try and hold them off." He grabbed the hilt of rapier and rounded the carriage. The others followed, and fended off the bandits, four against four. "Your majesty, stay inside!" he yelled.

Louis yelped when he heard the bullets ricocheting off his carriage. He placed his hands over his head when he saw the wood bursting to pieces just outside the window. "D'Artagnan! Laponte!" he cried. Being inside the castle for most of his short life, he was under constant supervision and protected at all times. Now, he was in the middle of a violent fight with no idea of what to do. He prayed that his musketeers would keep him safe as they had done for his father. He clutched Jacque's dagger to his chest, his knuckles turning white.

Jacque managed to knee a man in his groin, and sweep his feet from under him. Another man came at her, swinging wildly and yelling out obscenities. The man was twice her size. Even if she could parry his attacks, his sheer strength would cause her to lose her balance. The best she could do was use his weight against him. He was big, but he was slow. If she was just given the chance then… and he ran straight for her. She dodged to the right and turned behind him pushing the man forward with her weight. He could not stop his momentum and ran straight into the carriage, head first. The large man fell on his back, completely blacked out.

Ramon gracefully dodge his attacker's strikes and punched him with the hilt of his sword. When the bandit hunched over in pain, Ramon kicked him over saying a small farewell with a kiss. He saw Siroc being crushed by a bandit that was easily bigger than Fishface. The giant had grabbed the musketeer from behind and had his massive arms wrapped around Siroc's chest trying to snap him in two. "In need of assistance, comrade Siroc?" he called.

"No…no, I can handle it," Siroc gasped. "I just need to find… the proper angle…" he began choking. With a mighty kick, his heel found the bandit's knee managing to break it. Siroc heard the man wail in pain and felt the arms around him loosen. He did not think that air would ever taste so sweet and pure. He was crouched over, taking in as much air as possible. Ramon ran over to him and patted him on the back.

"Are you all right, mi comrade?" he asked.

Siroc gestured with his hands to give him a moment and that he was fine, but his breathing came in uneven breaths. Ramon saw the giant was distracted, favoring his right knee and punched him in the jaw.

D'Artagnan fought his man with fists and feet rather than his sword. In fights like these, his rivals tended to grab him and hang onto to his body like leeches. Weapons can only do so much he figured, and when it came down to it, it was a man's fighting ability that would save his life. He kneed the man in the ribs then threw him a right hook. The man fell unconscious, his jaw broken and disfigured. "That was simple," d'Artagnan stated, shaking his hand. He managed to split open the skin by his knuckles, and it began to bleed freely. For the second time today, the musketeers were met with victory.

"Your majesty?" Jacque called.

"Is it over?" Louis peeked over the bottom ledge of the window. He surveyed the scene before him, reluctantly opening the door. "D'Artagnan?"

"I'm here, your majesty," d'Artagnan responded. He was by the river, dipping his fist into the cool water. He winced when he felt the cold liquid run over his broken skin. Louis ran to d'Artagnan in concern.

"Are you hurt?" he asked. His knees were shaking, and his nerves were almost shot. Never in his life had he experienced anything so terrifying, but at least he was not alone. His musketeers were with him. They did not abandon him when he needed them most.

D'Artagnan shook his head. "Nothing to fear, your highness. It's just a light scrape. You should flush your face, your majesty. You look pale." He nodded toward the river and handed Louis a small piece of material. "It will help."

Louis let out a nervous laugh. "Yes, yes, of course," he stuttered. "Fresh water seems refreshing at the moment." He gratefully took the small towel and dipped it into the river.

D'Artagnan stood and went to see how Siroc and Ramon were doing, not to mention he needed a clean bandage for his hand. "How are you doing, Siroc?" he asked.

The color came back to the inventor's face, but ever the optimist, he flashed d'Artagnan a bright smile. "Alive and breathing."

Jacque looked around the field, feeling a low panic rising. Something was out of place. There was something missing. She stood between the coach and the young king, turning in slow circles, replaying the fight in her mind. She remembered where the bandits lay when she and Siroc fired upon them. In total, there should be six men that lay in the open, but when she counted them, there were only five. D'Artagnan, Ramon, and Siroc were regrouping, checking each other to see if they had sustained injuries. And Louis was alone by the river cleaning his face… Louis! Her mind screamed at her in fear.

She looked to her king, and started searching frantically for the sixth man. She looked to the coach, and her eyes widened. The sixth bandit was clutching onto the side of the carriage, propping himself straight to get a clear shot. He aimed right for the king of France.

"Louis!" Jacque cried and ran to her king. D'Artagnan, Ramon, and Siroc stirred out of their conversation when they heard the frantic scream.

Louis jerked up his head in alarm, but he did not see what happened. He felt an arm shove him aside roughly to the ground, and the crack of a pistol filled his ears. A splash of water covered his back, and when he turned to the river, he saw Jacque's body bobbing up and down the surface of the water. She struggled to keep her head above, but the currents pulled her down. He heard a pair of running feet coming closer to him, and then they stopped. There was a second splash.

"D'Artagnan!" Louis shrieked as he saw a legend's son dive into the water.