Evening My Lovelies

I wanted to apologize for the missed update, things have kinda been going a bit pear shape in my life this last week/week and a half and the drama and situation hasn't really left me in the best headspace to write.

Notes On Reviews:

beeblegirl: Thanks for the review - Oh I'm sure that can be arranged :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Athos wanted to just demand D'Art's location but leaving Glenn to die isn't something he could allow himself to do. Haha oh yeah Rochefort definitely has stuff in the works :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

pallysd'Artagnan: Thanks for the review - Oh don't worry I'm sure Audric will get what's coming to him once our boys finish rescuing their own :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

WelshEssex: Thanks for the review - These new OC's are definitely growing on me so there's a good chance I'll let him live, we'll have to wait and see :) I will be checking back with Treville and the others soon, promise :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

As always much love and many thanks for following/favouriting/reviewing/reading

Love you all!

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Eighteen: Every Second Counts

With the inseparables gone Fredrick didn't waste a moment in moving to tie up their unconscious prisoner. Just the sight of the man had nearly every part of the former musketeer screaming at him to gut him for the pain and agony he and his cohorts had undoubtedly caused his friends, but, to his honest surprise, he managed to reign in that desire, channelling it instead into making the makeshift restraints as unnecessarily tight as he could, quietly relishing in the knowledge of the pain doing so would cause the man when he eventually regained consciousness.

Once he was confident the man was a secure as he could make it given their current location and supplies he straightened up, turning his attention to the other men in the room, his eyes lingering intently on Tristan as a serious look settled on his face.

"I need to go," stated Fredrick, his respect for the physician's assistant growing when the younger man showed no sign of fear at the mention of losing his protection. "I'll get you back up but it'll be a few minutes. Can you handle things here until then?" He hated himself for asking this, the assistant was training to save lives and here he was essentially asking the man to attack, if not kill, should the situation require it. Every part of him was at war, he didn't want to abandon the pair but he had to.

It didn't surprise him when the one to answer was Aramis, though he was surprised with the strength in the musketeer's voice.

"We'll be fine," promised the marksman, his words cutting off the response Tristan had been about to give. Aramis's eyes burned with understanding as the medic nodded once, "I might not be at my best but I can still out-shoot most, enough at least to pose a challenge," he added as he nodded once more, this time to the pistol at Fredrick's side, something the former musketeer didn't hesitate to hand over along with some spare ammunition. "What's the plan?"

The confidence in Aramis' voice even despite the man's physical condition coupled with the fact that neither man was voicing any sort of protest to his desire to depart reassured the former musketeer enough to relax a fraction. "I need to get to the others, we don't know who else is involved, they might be in danger." Aramis and Tristan nodded at this and upon seeing it Fredrick continued. "I'll split them up so you have some additional protection here and I'll take the rest with me to search for Glenn. The man saved my life more than once, there's no way I leave him to whatever fate these bastards have planned for him."

Having suspected as much Aramis nodded before another thought hit him and caused him to frown. "Send the red guard boy to us," he stated firmly, continuing before Fredrick could protest. "Neither of his companions have returned so either they are in on whatever is going on and have betrayed us or they are dead. Given our history with their regiment, I think it's pretty safe to assume it's likely the former and if that's the case we can't further risk Glenn's life by sending him with you."

While the concern in Aramis's voice was warming it did cause Fredrick to snort in amusement. "I might have been out of the uniform for a while Aramis but I can handle one fledgeling red guard."

"You confident enough to bet Glenn's life on that?" retorted the musketeer.

"And if he comes after you?"

Aramis shrugged as best as his injured body would allow him. "There's two of us and Tristan can slip him something to make him sleep if we suspect anything."

Fredrick didn't look happy about this but the reminder that Glenn needed him had him, very reluctantly, agreeing before slipping out of the room as quietly as he could, not trusting the rest of the church's occupants, before heading towards the room that housed the rest of their party.

"So…" mused Porthos as he and Athos approached the location they had been given, "This screams trap."

The casual, nonchalance of his brother's tone pulled an amused, breathy chuckle from the swordsman who nodded in agreement. This whole thing had clearly been designed to split the group apart and the only reason to do that would be to make the trial of taking them out significantly easier for those involved. The fact that they had resorted to such underhanded in order to target them didn't sit well with the honour driven musketeer but part of him begrudgingly respected the intelligence behind the scheme.

Once they reached their destination everything faded away with honest fear quickly took its place as their eyes lingered on the numerous headstones littering the graveyard.

Both musketeers could feel eyes on them as they frantically searched for any sign of their youngest brother, their hearts racing with every minute that passed with no luck.

"Bastard tricked us!" snarled Porthos as he frantically twisted around, the darkness was making their search near impossible but neither man was about to wait until sun up to begin their search, not if their brother's life was truly on a time restraint.

"Maybe not," called Athos, the swordsman's voice immediately grabbing his brother's attention as the large man quickly moved to his side by a large oak tree that took pride of place in the middle of the graveyard, his eyes narrowing on the piece of parchment held in his brother's hand.

Athos,

You truly didn't believe you had seen the last of me, did you? You and your precious musketeers have, once again, ruined my life so it is only fair I repay the favour.

You were told there was only a limited time to save that boy of yours and that is quite true.

D'Artagnan is currently taking a nap somewhere in these grounds and if you're not quick enough that'll turn into a permanent sleep and if that happens… well, at least he'll already have a grave.

Good hunting,

Rochefort

"Rochefort!" snarled Porthos as he launched a punch at the trunk of the tree, barely feeling the pain that instantly throbbed through his hand as he glared daggers at the parchment.

"We'll address that later," snapped Athos as he forced the letter into his pocket, "Rochefort buried him! We need to find him before he runs out of air, split up and look for any signs of the ground recently being dug up."