Firstly, let me apologize for how long it took me to post this chapter for everyone. With the end of this story drawing near, I've been struggling to make sure that I bring everything important to a close, and that means that I'm constantly unhappy with the writing that I've done. I'm still not super thrilled with the descriptions of the fight scenes, but I hope that they are good enough to at least give you an idea of what is happening in my head as I try to write them down. That being said, here is another installment. Please leave me a review when you finish reading it, and I hope to give you another chapter soon. Only one or two left!

Chapter XXXIV

"Protect the King!"

"Save King Louis!"

"Tear it down, men!"

The cries of their comrades spurred the musketeers on as the fight continued to unfold, cannons being fired and the battering ram moving further forward through the swords that clashed sharply against one another as they struggled to make their way to the heavy wooden door that separated the field from the chateau. Only hours before had D'Artagnan gone to his men and taken the risk of confessing most of the truth in their situation to them. Yes, Louis had been born with an identical twin brother. Yes, that was the man that they had seen concealed behind the iron mask that night at the Bastille. And yes, the two of them had been switched so that France might have a chance at surviving the English threat that was still around the corner. He had omitted the details about the boy's true paternity, not for his own sake, but for Anne. She was so well loved by the people, even now, that he could not bear to allow the slander to fall upon her name just so that he could be recognized as the father of France's King. It was also spoken that Katherine was not the bastard child of the old King, but rather a pawn that had once been of interest to Cardinal Richelieu, carefully hidden and guarded over the last twenty years for her own protection.

It was clear almost instantly that some of the men had guessed as much, while others were content to know that their country was one step closer to being secure in the hands of Philippe. None of them really questioned the exchange of brothers, nor seemed to truly care. Apparently the love that the people had once felt for Louis was completely gone even among his own personal guard, for they seemed more than eager to head right into danger for the sake of the boy they had come to admire. They had assembled in the matter of an hour, horses saddled and ready for them to mount, cannons placed on wagons so that they could be more easily transported to the sight they were required. And before he or his friends could so much as give the order, his men were lined up at the gates awaiting the moment when their captain would take his place at the head of their number to lead them forward.

Now they were fighting the guard that had stood waiting for them outside the chateau, many of them without the horses that they had set out with as swords were drawn and the harsh scrape of metal on metal filled the air. Bodies had begun to litter the ground as the enemy slowly began to fall in number, mixed with the occasional uniform of black as a musketeer gave his own life to try and save his King. Everywhere about him there were the sounds of feral cries in the air, the screams of men run through with swords to combine with the heavy thud that sounded at the wall of the chateau. And yet he heard none of it. All that D'Artagnan could hear was the pounding of his heart as it hammered violently in his chest and collided with his thoughts.

Louis had Katherine and Philippe…

His own sword had already brought about the death of three men since the storming of the chateau had begun, with many more laying behind him as Athos, Porthos and Aramis all joined the immediate charge. It was like old times for a moment, the four of them racing into danger with little care for their own lives because they knew it to be their duty. And yet this time couldn't have been more different if he had tried to imagine it otherwise, for it wasn't just their King that they were fighting to save now. It was their children, one a King to run the country and the other a girl who had helped to heal his heart so many times over in the past. It was their lives that they fought for now, putting aside the knowledge that none of them were as young as they had once been. The chances of dying on this expedition were far greater than they had ever been. And yet they moved onward.

As the shout came that the gate had finally been broken into, D'Artagnan quickly turned his head. "The gate! Quickly!"

They did not need to be told twice. Aramis immediately knocked aside the man who attempted to charge him and Porthos used the butt of his sword to render his attacker unconscious before they moved to join their leader. Only Athos lingered a moment longer, waiting for the opportunity to run his opponent through with the point of his sword, dropping the body against the unforgiving ground on his way to the gate. There was a new wave of men spilling from the wall's open wound, roaring more viciously than those who already fought on the primary battle field. With swords held tightly in their hands they hurried through the throng of death of destruction, fighting all who stood in their way with renewed fury before they managed to make their way inside the walls, confronted by yet another string of men who stood with Louis in their fight. A snarl appeared on D'Artagnan's lip as three rushed toward them, each armed with a weapon of their own and the deep-bellied cry that he had heard since the fighting began. He'd had quite enough of this already.

"Go," Porthos shouted, stepping up to place a hand on D'Artagnan's shoulder and raise his own sword in defiance. "I will deal with these pups and come find you when I can. Go, find the children."

There was no time to argue with his friend, though D'Artagnan was caught off guard by having an order thrown at him by Porthos. For one who was usually so cheerful and full of the life that he had been given, the sudden look of anger that overtook his heavy features was enough to bring a nod from D'Artagnan before he turned away.

"Take care, my friend."

As he and the other two continued to make their way toward the chateau, he heard only the terrifying roar of Porthos before it was overtaken by the angry clash of swords and the soft thumps of flesh. Without a doubt, Porthos would fight more honourably than any of those who stood beside Louis…but with the safety of both Katherine and Philippe standing precariously on the brink, he would take no prisoners on this day. You would either surrender or be placed in an early grave.

Athos, Aramis and D'Artagnan continued to run around the outside of the chateau, searching for a doorway that would allow them entrance to the maze and thus truly begin their search for the children. But the way was thick with men who fought for their opposing sides, some wearing the blue tunic of the musketeer while others simply fought in whatever they had chosen to bring with them to the battle. Despite his desire to once again sit upon the throne of France, Louis had not concerned himself with a guard who fought under the same banner as the musketeers did, a further sign of the chaos that would await them if he were to emerge victorious at sundown.

Waving their own swords in an effort to pass through the fighting, the three men pushed their way forward until at last they found a heavy wooden door that would lead them into the chateau itself. And as luck would have it, the door had not been bolted against them. But to find themselves gaining entrance so easily set Athos immediately on edge, his eyes darting about the kitchen area to see who lay in wait for them. With no rebel daring to show his face, they pushed onward. Having entered through a servant's door and into the kitchens meant that the main chamber of the chateau could not be far off, and from there they could either gauge where they should look or spread themselves out in an effort to locate Louis, who was sure to have Philippe with him, if not Katherine as well.

"I do not like this," Athos said, gritting his teeth as they moved into a small corridor and hurried their way along the stone walls. "It was far too easy to get inside."

Aramis nodded in agreement, eyes shifting about to try and absorb everything that he saw around them as the corridor began to cut off in places to the different passage ways used by the servants of the chateau. "I like this not at all."

But what else was there for them to do? Until they were able to find where both Philippe and Katherine were being held they had no choice but to wander blindly through the interior of the building. And knowing what they did of Louis, they knew that their task was likely to be doubly difficult as he wouldn't be foolish enough to keep them both in the same place. If the barrier was breached as it had become, then separating them would provide him with twice the chance of winning, for he knew that they would never willingly sacrifice one for the other. He would catch them in a trap sooner or later, and they could only pray that they were still clever and quick enough to avoid the dangers as they had been in their youth. Now was not the time to be making foolish mistakes, not when young lives were hanging in the balance.

Down the corridor they went, attempting to be as silent as they were able to be in the heavy leather boots that were part of the musketeer uniform. There was something eerie about the place that they had entered, something not quite right. Even before they reached the main hall, where people would have sat themselves at large tables to dine, did this feeling creep over their skin and leave goosebumps in its wake. And it seemed that the feeling was shared between all three men, who cautiously glanced at one another as they took in the surroundings of the room.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Athos growled, crouching slightly in a defensive stance as he looked around him.

"Good."

It was a deeper voice that now spoke and destroyed the silence that had lingered about them, a voice that mixed with the softer cries of the woman he held tightly to him as he pressed the tip of a dagger under her chin. All three heads turned sharply to look at the pair, eyes wide with fright as they came to realize just how much danger Katherine was truly in. The bend in her knees indicated that she was barely able to stand on her own, her arms secured behind her somehow so that she couldn't fight against Tolbert's hold even if she had the strength to do so. But it was the red mark upon her face that caught Aramis' attention, and his features darkened into a dangerous growl when he took note of the abuse his daughter had suffered since her capture.

"Let her go, Tolbert," his voice rumbling in a menacing tone. "Let her go or I swear-"

"You will what?" he asked in response, grinning brightly as he chuckled in amusement. "What untold horrors await me because I have her? She is not truly your child, Aramis. She is nothing more than the bastard daughter of a King who was too weak to rule."

"I said let her go!"

Tolbert chuckled once more. "You want her? Come and get her."

"Papa, no! Louis has Philippe, you must not waste your time on-"

But her words were cut off as she cried out once more, feeling the dagger press even more tightly into her skin and her wrists twist a little further. The sneer returned to Tolbert's face as he inflicted further pain upon his captive, his obvious attempts at keeping her silent having failed to ensure that such information was not given to the musketeers. Apparently he should have gagged the wench again in order to spare himself the hassle of her loose tongue. But no matter, he thought to himself. When all was said and done he would be able to deal with the bastard child in his own way, for Louis would not care to keep her around once he had succeeded with his plans. She was a pawn, nothing more. And as a pawn, that meant that she was disposable.

"Silence," Tolbert hissed against her ear, his eyes darting back to look at the trio before him.

Already though, his advantage was gone.

"His battle is with me," Athos murmured to his friends, never once removing his eyes from the movements that could be made against his niece's throat. "The man I injured that day at headquarters…the one who placed himself in the cell with Philippe…that was Tolbert's older brother."

D'Artagnan remembered well the day that Athos had stormed into musketeer headquarters, having just learned that his beloved son had been killed by enemy fire while fighting the Dutch. Only later would it be discovered that Louis had sent him to that exact location, placing him in front of the cannons so that his death would come more swiftly and release the woman that Raoul had loved to Louis' bed. Yet the anger that had burned inside of his friend on that day had not died after the brief altercation, and D'Artagnan well knew that it continued to drive him forward even now.

But he did remember the man who had suffered the most at Athos' hand, and he couldn't help but chide himself internally for not having made the connection earlier on.

"It is my daughter that he tolds in his hands," Aramis argued, raising his sword. "Go, both of you, and find Philippe. I will not leave my daughter again."

The fierceness in his tone and the way in which his eyes were locked upon the still figures of Katherine and Tolbert were all that his friends needed to see and hear. Nothing they could say in protest would have dissuaded Aramis from this, nor could either of them condemn the dedication that he showed toward his child, for both of them had once experienced a similar feeling of love and devotion to their own. Though both were loath to actually leave him to face Tolbert alone, they could not ignore the constant flickering of Katherine's eyes as she tried to direct them to where Philippe had been taken, motioning silently to the staircase that surely lay somewhere behind her.

"Catch up when you can."

No other words were exchanged as D'Artagnan and Athos moved swiftly back into the corridor from which they had just come, knowing that there would be no opportunity to get around Tolbert within the dining hall unless they wished to see further harm come to Katherine. And for the time being, neither of them could stomach that.

Now, it was all up to Aramis.

"I will kill you," vowed the aged priest. "Make no mistake of that."

The throaty laugh resonated so deeply within Tolbert that Katherine could feel him remove the pressure from her throat for an instant, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement as he looked at the lone man who opposed him now. "You? An old man who could not even run the distance of the corridor before he was out of breath? Your years behind the monastery walls have left you soft and weak, Aramis. The musketeer you once were is nothing more than a shadow."

"Perhaps," he conceded, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he readjusted the hold that he currently held on the hilt of his blade. "But when you threaten those I love, there is not a force on the face of the earth that can stop me…because above all else, I am a father first."

"And now you bore me, old man."

With the speed that only a young man could possess, Tolbert removed the dagger from Katherine's throat and twirled it around in his fingers until he held the tip of the blade between his fingers. He lifted his arm, pulling his hand back behind his head and with a flick of his wrist sent the dagger flying across the room, where it stopped only once it had embedded itself into Aramis' right shoulder. The sudden onset of pain was enough to shock the older man into dropping his sword to the floor with a terrible clatter, dropping to one knee in an effort to maintain some sort of physical control over his body. His sword arm was now wounded before any real battle had begun, he thought through grit teeth. His greatest weapon in trying to save Katherine had now been taken away.

As his left hand came across his body to gingerly hold the aching shoulder, Tolbert released his hold on Katherine and allowed her to fall to the floor rather ungracefully when her legs finally gave out beneath her. She lay upon her stomach, face down against the dust and struggling even to lift her head as Tolbert walked calmly toward Aramis, his own hand moving now to draw the sword that sat on his hip. Each footstep echoed against the hard flooring beneath him as he moved, looking down upon his opponent with a grin already telling of the victory that played out in his mind.

"It is such a pity that you have to die like this," he said, allowing the very tip of his sword to scrape along the floor until the room rang with the droning metallic sound. "You were quite brilliant in your day."

Drawing up his right foot, Tolbert turned his body enough so that he could squarely plant his foot against the chest of his opponent, kicking with such force that he sent Aramis flying a few feet further. With the wind now knocked out of him, he coughed and tried to regain his senses as he lay against the ground, blinking rapidly in the hopes of clearing his vision. But Tolbert was upon him before he knew it, staring down with the same menacing grin that Aramis had so wished to remove from his traitorous lips. He felt it before he saw it, the cool metal of his sword against the bare flesh of his throat, caressing his cheek and chin in its dangerous hold.

"Try not to take it too hard," the voice continued to taunt as the edge of the blade danced about his skin. "We all meet our end eventually, though I'm afraid that you shall endure quite a lot of pain before that comes."

Suddenly the sword was removed from his skin, moving instead to nudge at the dagger that protruded from his shoulder until Aramis was forced to groan through grit teeth in protest. "Unless of course, you are prepared to beg."

"Perhaps you should be thinking about that yourself."

Turning casually to look over his shoulder, Tolbert chuckled darkly once more. It was pathetic really, to see the girl standing upright in such a feeble position, unable to lift the sword that she had managed to place in her hands. A quick glance to the side assured him that it had come from one of the displays left hanging on the wall, though he was not yet certain of how she had gotten ahold of it without his hearing her. Perhaps he had been focusing too much on the old man after all.

Her feet were too far apart and her knees bent inward to keep herself upright, arms hanging heavily in front of her as her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword that was clearly too large for someone of her stature to properly use. Once before he had seen her fight, that night in the Bastille when it had been her duty to keep anyone from reaching the unarmed Philippe. But she had been healthy at that point, save for the small line of red that had decorated her white shirt. Now she would fortunate to stay on her feet without falling over again, which made the sight of her holding a weapon laughable to a man like Tolbert who had managed to take down a former musketeer with little effort.

Tolbert allowed himself to fully turn in her direction, one hand resting upon his hip while the other held loosely to his sword. "Come now, child, there is no need to be foolish. You and I both know that even if you were able to get that thing into your hands, you have no strength left. You could not lift that sword even if you were in the peak of health."

"Try me."

The spark of defiance that had earned her so much trouble as a child was once again blazing in the depths of her eyes, strands of her hair now loose and dangling against the sides of her face to give off a more dangerous air than she might have otherwise had in her present condition. Tolbert was no fool…he could see it clearly from across the room.

"You will die," he warned her, taking a few slow steps toward her.

Katherine smiled. "Then I guess you have nothing to worry about."

Challenging words had been thrown around, and now the time had come for action. With Aramis already wounded and unable to fight, Tolbert knew that dealing with Katherine would be far easier than he had anticipated. Louis had given him orders not to kill the girl, insinuating that she might perhaps be of use to them later on when they approached the people of France with the next stage of his plan. He knew that there were bound to be repercussions because he had disobeyed a direct order, but he cared little for them right now. This girl had been nothing but trouble since she had come waltzing into the picture and upset every step of their plan, throwing herself into the middle of things and interfering with fate. She alone was responsible for ensuring that D'Artagnan survived from his otherwise fatal wound that night at the Bastille, and that single act had caused them nothing but difficulty from that moment on.

Oh yes, despite the orders he had previously been given, Tolbert was very much going to enjoy watching her die.

The muscles in his arm tensed as he raised his sword above his head, aiming to bring it straight down on Katherine's head when he felt the resistance of another blade fling his attack to the side where it landed uselessly against the floor. He paused for only a moment, allowing the surprise to settle into his features before he turned back to look at his prey, enraged by the smirk that he saw dancing upon her lips. Perhaps she had deflected his blow once, but there was no way she could do it again.

Shifting his weight, he moved to swipe at the air that lay between where his sword had fallen and the bruised skin of her neck, knowing that contact from his blade would likely decapitate her when the blow fell. But again he found that he missed his target entirely as Katherine pulled her sword back across her body to block his attack and sharply lifted her elbow so that it made contact with his jaw. Stumbling backwards in shock, Tolbert allowed himself a moment to touch the offended area of his face with his free hand, rubbing it gingerly to ensure that no blood had been drawn. But there was blood, which spilled from the place where his teeth had cut into his lower lip and now ran freely down into the curve of his chin.

"Clever girl," he grumbled, flicking some of the blood away from his hand. "But not clever enough."

There was no holding back now. In his effort to demonstrate his superiority over her much more fragile form, Tolbert unleashed a storm of blows that would not hold back his strength or skill from her, battling Katherine backward across the room. Despite his earlier analysis, she repeatedly blocked his advances, shucking them away as if they were nothing more than a few practise swings one would take in training. He came at her with everything that he had, knowing that she was using the full extent of her energies to just keep herself alive, never mind attempting any strike of her own that might gain her the upper hand.

Tolbert roared as he lifted his sword above his head, both hands coming together on the hilt as he prepared to deliver the blow that he believed would end the entire meeting. Her eyes immediately widened as she took in his stance, dropping her arms and throwing her body forward so that she could skirt just beneath his elbow and roll against the floor. Unable to redirect his aim, Tolbert's sword came heavily into the fireplace mantle he had succeeded in backing Katherine against, only to embed itself deeply into the wood and stubbornly lodge itself there.

Seeing an opening, Katherine forced herself back to her feet again and ran for the opposite end of the room, her blue eyes locked on the motionless form that lay ahead of her. Over and over again her mind was praying for him, begging that he still be alive when she reached him. It might perhaps have been only a dagger to the shoulder and a strong kick to the chest, but at his age she knew that his body was no longer accustomed to such abuses. There was no telling what kind of damage might have actually been done to his body.

"Papa!"

Her cry stirred Aramis, who lifted his head just enough for her to see that he was still battling to remain conscious as his body took in the shock of his attack. When it fell again, fear clenched at Katherine's heart. No, she thought. No, she would not lose him like this. She couldn't…she still needed him…

But as she neared him, the heavy footsteps from behind alerted her that Tolbert had freed his sword from the mantle and approached with a speed that she knew she could not match. In a desperate attempt to remain alive, she spun on her heel and lifted her sword in both hands, just in time to meet the blow that he placed squarely against the blade. This time though, he did not pull away, but continued to press down against her until Katherine was forced to place most of her weight against one knee, struggling to stay in control. Her arms burned in agony at having to maintain a grip on her sword for so long, her core muscles begging to be released. She would not last much longer under this pressure, and Tolbert knew it well.

"You see?" he demanded, the grin having returned to his face. "You never stood a chance, my dear."

Lifting a knee, Tolbert slipped beneath the defence that she had created with her weapon and made contact with her hands, which immediately released the sword and allowed it to go flying across the room to a place she could not hope to reach. Katherine fell backward, trying to push herself away from his looming presence with whatever strength remained in her legs. But Tolbert followed her, flexing his fingers until both hands were able to grip tightly to his sword.

He slowly raised it above his head, prepared to strike the final blow. "Say goodbye, Katherine."

But the blow never came.

Tolbert's eyes went wide as his body froze, staring first at Katherine as his intended target, and then slowly lowering to his abdomen where the hilt of a dagger now protruded. Panting heavily, Katherine's head turned round to see Aramis propped up against one elbow, sweat dripping steadily down his pale face. The dagger was now absent from his shoulder.

"I believe that is yours."

Before she could change her mind, the girl swiftly turned back to Tolbert and took advantage of his momentary daze, letting out a cry as she kicked one foot upward and into the dagger, sending it even further into the stomach of her would-be killer. The sword instantly fell from his hands, clattering loudly behind him as Tolbert fell to his knees before her, a momentary fire filling his eyes. His hands moved as if to grab her by the throat, but this time she proved to be too quick for him. Another sharp kick to his abdomen knocked the dagger further into his body, and one hand was smooth enough to give it a twist before she withdrew it entirely from his body.

And as the blood flowed freely from his wound, covering the front of his clothing and creating the beginnings of a puddle on the floor, the light in his eyes drew dim. Every tight muscle released itself, eyes rolling back into his head…and he fell face down upon the floor and Katherine pulled herself away to avoid any form of contact with him. She waited only a moment to ensure that he would not move before she pushed herself further back on the floor, turning with a painful cry until she was able to crawl her way back to where Aramis lay on the floor, sliding her body beneath him for when his arm finally gave out on him and he fell back once more.

The dagger fell against the floor beside him, no longer an object of concern for Katherine as she pressed a hand tightly to the wound that her father had sustained in his shoulder, ignoring the hiss of pain that accompanied the pressure.

"Oh, Papa, I'm so sorry," she whispered, tears beginning to fill her eyes. "This is all my fault, forgive me."

Aramis shook his head, blinking up at his daughter with the softest of smiles. "No, my darling. It is I who should be asking you for forgiveness, for I kept a truth from you that might have prevented all of this from happening to you."

"But you have been hurt," Katherine insisted. "And now Louis has Philippe…all because of me."

"I would gladly die a thousand deaths if it meant I could keep you safe, Kate."

The girl shook her head quickly, wrapping one arm around her father's neck as she leaned down to kiss his damn forehead, hugging him as close as she dared without harming him. "The one that shall eventually come will be painful enough to endure, Papa. Please do not will it to come any sooner than it must."

Closing his eyes, Aramis allowed a slow exhale of breath to begin calming his body as he silently rejoiced in the gentle touch that his daughter held him in. A small tilt of his head had his cheek pressed to her upper arm, one hand moving until he was able to find one of her own and softly graze the skin with his thumb. He had not failed her after all…thank God…

"Come," she whispered, her body beginning to shift beneath him. "We must get you to safety."

"No."

Mentally preparing himself, Aramis began to push his body into a seated position, working to ignore the pain that he could still feel moving through his body from the assault that Tolbert had delivered. Katherine's arms instantly slid off of him and prepared to help, providing a little more stability as he touched his wounded shoulder and surveyed what was around them. Very soon the battle that was outside would make its way indoors, and they could not be found seated where they were.

"We must find the others," ordered the priest, wincing heavily against the throbbing in his arm. "If Louis has Philippe as you say, then we cannot retreat until he is safe."

Katherine moved to kneel beside him, ripping at the fabric of her skirt until she groaned in frustration and snatched up the dagger still coated in blood to make the initial cut. "A fine pair we make," she muttered, ripping along the bottom edge of the skirt until she had enough material that she could wrap it numerous times around her father's injury. "Going off to save someone else even though we can barely stand up."

Aramis looked at his daughter, the corner of his lips perking up into a ghost of a smile. "I have always been rather stubborn when it comes to my duties."

As she finished tying the knot, Kate looked up and caught his gaze. "And I am my father's daughter."

The smile grew a little more as the two of them struggled to their feet, each leaning on the other for support as they eyed the corridor that had previously been blocked to them. Neither knew where exactly they needed to be, or how they were going to get out of this battle alive. All they knew was that Philippe was somewhere up those steps, with D'Artagnan and Athos searching for him. His lack of appearance lead Kate to believe that her Uncle Porthos was out in the battle that had yet to reach them, a thought that further strengthened her resolve to climb those damn steps, no matter how much it would hurt her to do so.

"Alright then," Aramis declared, leaning forward to pick up the sword that had been knocked from his hand with renewed fire. "Time to save the King."

Flexing her fingers around the handle of the dagger, Katherine nodded beside him. "Here we go."