CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Pushing herself away, Milady gave Porthos a wild look and a whispered name. To his credit, he understood immediately and, gripping her arm, pushed her in the right direction, away from her pursuer. She gathered her skirts around her and gave him a tight look;
"There were five of them, now three," she said, tersely, before she flew the short distance and out of the glazed door, into the courtyard, just as the Comte himself almost fell through the doorway.
Porthos grabbed him, stopping him in his tracks.
"What's goin' on?" he said, as he steadied his friend.
"Did you see her?" the Comte said, his eyes wide.
"See who?" Porthos said, looking around. "Where's Aramis?" he added to try and get the Comte off the subject.
"Back there," the Comte replied, breathing heavily. "Another body. In the corridor."
"Another?" Porthos asked, looking back into the passageway.
Athos nodded. "Yes," he replied. "I was chasing the possible culprit."
Porthos turned him around. "Well, whoever you were after is long gone," he said. "Best go back and find the others, and have a look at this latest body."
It was not strictly procedure, allowing a would-be suspect to escape, but in view of who the escapee was, there was little choice for Porthos but to appear inefficient.
Athos obviously thought so too, as he momentarily resisted, but a shove from Porthos had him moving back from where he came. He was, after all, here by their good grace and therefore, under their protection and, indeed, command.
As Porthos pushed him back into the passageway, he quickly glanced back toward the glazed door and out into the courtyard. He caught a glimpse of red, disappearing into a door in the opposite building. She was fast, though she had obviously lingered, to see what would happen. With a shake of his head, he stepped into the passageway, past the Comte; and hurried along, leaving him to follow.
He should have let the Comte lead, but he wanted to get to Aramis first, confident the Comte would be quite able to retrace his steps. After a little hesitation, he saw footsteps in the dust and followed them.
He found Aramis searching the second body.
"Stabbed in the back this time," the marksman said, straightening and looking back toward the passageway.
"He's comin'" Porthos confirmed, to Aramis's raised eyebrow.
"This is a very precise wound," Aramis said quickly to Porthos. "Let me guess."
"Protectin' 'er investment," Porthos grunted, looking from the body to his friend.
"Of course. The King" Aramis said.
"No," Porthos replied, dully. "Athos. Don't think she's finished with him yet."
"Well, she'll have to contend with us first," Aramis said.
"Don't think she cares," Porthos responded. "I think she's enjoyin' herself. She said there are five of them. So that leaves three."
"How does she know that?" Aramis hissed.
Porthos gave him an incredulous look, and Aramis sighed.
"Of course," he said. "Silly of me to ask."
Behind them, the Comte emerged from the passageway. He had taken a slower pace, his shoulder obviously slowing him down.
"What are you talking about?" the Comte said, staring at the body.
He still looked a little shocked, hopefully just at the sight of a woman fleeing the scene, and not who that woman actually was.
"Just discussin' odds," Porthos said, walking over to him.
"It was a woman," the Comte replied. "And she obviously knows her way around the palace," he added.
"Not unheard of, the Cardinal used to employ female assassins," Aramis sighed. It was no point denying it and pretending that a very skilled murderess had not only killed two of their opponents, but in doing so, had saved their friend's life. The rules of this game were getting more complicated by the minute.
Damn the woman.
"Are you alright, Comte?" Aramis asked, as the man had a strange look on his face.
"Yes," the Comte replied, vaguely, before recovering and leaning down to study the corpse.
"What do we do now?"
Normally Athos woul take charge, but now he was deferring to them.
Aramis looked at Porthos over his head. Porthos gave him a slight shrug of his shoulders.
"I saw Treville. He said there were five of them," Porthos lied. He could hardly say he had had a discussion with his friend's fleeing wife.
"Well," Aramis said, recovering, and picking up Porthos's thread. "Two less assailants to worry about. We continue to search. "Where's d'Artagnan?"
"He was with me, then we split up." Porthos replied. "Can't be far away," he added.
"What about these passageways?" the Comte said then.
"An added complication," Aramis replied. "Let us hope the assailants don't know about them."
"The woman obviously does," the Comte replied, tersely, and not a little frustrated with Aramis's thinking.
"We don't know she is involved," Aramis said, running a hand through his hair, which frustrated the Comte further.
The last thing Aramis wanted though, was for his friend to follow his mystery woman while, according to her, there were three unknown assailants still running free. Added to that was Athos's injury, though at least he was armed with a sword. Even one-handed, as they had seen, he was still extremely capable.
"It's no coincidence two of the assailants have been found here, so close to the King," Aramis was saying. "My bet is the others are not far behind. Treville has both their Majesties protected ..."
"So why are we wastin' time talkin'?" Porthos interrupted.
"Two down, but still three to go," he added, pointedly, wondering where Milady had gone, or more to the point, what she was planning.
"Then I suggest we each take a corridor, gentlemen," Aramis agreed.
Turning to the Comte, he softened.
"Watch your shoulder," he said, as they moved off.
"I will take it under advisement," his noble friend replied, sounding more like the Athos he knew. Shades of his friend were emerging, but that may be wishful thinking on his part.
The three men gave each other a look, before turning to search their respective corridors.
Olivier, however, hung back a little. Watching their retreating backs, he was unconvinced by Aramis's strategy, casting a look back toward the door that led into the secret warren behind the Palace walls.
oOo
Meanwhile:
d'Artagnan, unaware of the second body and additional information that there were three assailants loose in the Palace, was cautiously edging his way down a short spiral of stone steps that led to a lower floor.
Through a long window in the wall ahead of him, he could see into the building on the opposite side of the courtyard.
Through the many tall windows in that building he could see people rushing down corridors, ushered by guards and courtiers. No doubt they were Palace staff being moved together for security. He was unfamiliar with this part of the Palace wing, and was unsure whether he should deviate from the wing where the King's quarters were located. He had earlier passed the corridor that housed the King's rooms, and had seen two Palace guards on his door. He had relaxed into his search, knowing he could give his full attention to it.
Something though, now caught his attention.
The sound of cautious footsteps, up ahead.
Conscious that his three friends were also searching, he waited to see who would emerge from around the turn in the corridor.
When a footman turned the corner, d'Artagnan relaxed, until he saw the man had a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other.
With a yell close to a battle cry, the man tore down the corridor toward him, sword raised above his head.
oOo
Milady, contrary to Porthos's belief, was not planning anything, apart from murder.
She too was in search of Dubois and his two remaining men.
However, she was worried. Dubois was one of Sarazin's men from years ago. She had known the two assailants she had just killed, from the same source. It seemed that more of his men had survived their encounter with the Musketeers on that fateful day that had seen Athos banish her from Paris. Dubois had obviouly followed in Sarazin's footsteps and formed his own band of thugs and murderers. That could be a problem.
She needed to protect this life she had made for herself. Louis could be a tedious and often childish companion, but she had invested so much. For that reason alone, she hoped the King was safe, for she believed Dubois would not hesitate, if things went wrong, to take Louis hostage.
She did not know how close she was to d'Artagnan at that moment, walking the short corridor and looking through the windows to the courtyard below. Further ahead were the stone steps that would lead her up, taking her towards the King. However, she chanced to glance down, into the courtyard below.
Then, suddenly, everything changed, as she saw a horse and rider enter the almost empty courtyard.
In the now locked-down section of the Palace, the rider dismounted and looked around in some confusion, as she cursed.
Rochefort!
Her mind whirled as she stared down at him.
Turning away from the King's rooms, her hand grasped the hilt of the thin blade in the pocket of her skirts.
To be continued ...