Athos

People were springing away to avoid musketeers' horses hooves when they were galloping through the city. Rochefort's men had a head start. The swordsman could not understand what exactly had happened. He remembered that he was among the escort of the royal carriage. They were travelling through foggy rain which they perceived rather as their friend than foe. The reduced visibility did not matter so such in the city and inhabitants were not so keen to attend the streets to greet the monarchs.

And then… He remembered a woman's scream reaching him through the thick whiteness which prevailed his senses. He remembered that he tried to… get up? Stand? Run? Whatever it was he ended up lying in the street, his head heavy with strangely smelling smoke. Athos still felt its effects in heaviness of his body and slowness of his mind. Fortunately, the horses they were riding at the moment were far enough not to be affected by that… poison?

The swordsman risked a glance towards his companions. Both Aramis and Constance were hurting. The marksman was deathly pale, his lips bit in grim determination. Athos feared for him. However there was nothing he could do. Suddenly Aramis glanced at him.

"How are you doing?", he asked hoarsely.

"I'm fine."

"No, Athos. Are you actively bleeding? Need to know.", the medic's words were hardly audible in their wild chase.

It was a very good question and the swordsman did not really know the answer. He felt weird and had no idea if it was the effect of blood loss or wounds themselves. His head was killing him, despite the physical exertion he was terribly cold. Probably fever. However there was no way they stopped to deal with his injuries.

"I don't think so.", he said finally. Aramis did not look convinced but he probably drew the same conclusions as Athos had.

They continued in silence and left the town behind them. Though Aramis stopped abruptly when they reached the first crossroads.

The tract here was too often used to even think about reading traces. They were plenty of them on the muddy road.

"Where now?", Aramis asked. Hopelessness slowly creeping into his eyes.

Athos looked at the road trying to discern any hint but without effect. So he tried to guess where Rochefort could have his hiding place. Did he wanted to leave the France? Where could he seek shelter?

"England?", Aramis seemed to read his thoughts.

"No. He's kidnapping a monarch, nobody will give him a shelter. He's violating the law Europe knows."

"So a ship then. A ship which will take him somewhere far", Constance gasped, "He'll leave the continent."

Athos nodded. She was probably right but it did not give them the knowledge which road Rochefort would take. Had he decided to reach the seacoast as soon as possible or rather to hide somewhere and wait as it the decision to leave France by sea seemed too obvious to be a good one? Or had he believed enough in his speed to risk and reach the safety of the sea. He had the Queen. Was her more precious than the revenge?

Too many questions, too few answers.

We cannot stay here! We're losing time.

"He'll try the fastest road to the coast", Aramis suddenly said.

It's better to believe it than to delay us further.

Constance directed her horse towards north. Athos wanted so badly to order her to return to Paris. She was clearly in pain, her face bathed in sweat but one look at her eyes made the swordsman sure that neither his orders nor pleas would be followed.

So they continued their travel. Finally, they had to slow down due to their horses. The poor beasts needed a bit of respite. They needed to change them so they stopped at the first inn. Usually they avoided such decisions as they were riding their favorite animals and after leaving them they did everything to bring them back with them. But this time they could simply left them and take fresh ones.

Aramis went to the innkeeper to ask for new horses and Athos was grateful for it as he was not sure how he would stand on his feet and he prefered to delayed this moment. His brother returned alone, clearly frustrated.

"There's no rested animals here. But we know that Rochefort has been here, as it's his doing…"

The marksman went to his horse and looked at him closely for a long moment.

"They won't last long, however, we should reach the next inn."

How long will we last?

Aramis eyed the saddle for a while and then with effort mounted. He nearly lost his balance and Athos saw how desperately he clenched his fists on the mane.

"Aramis?", the swordsman could not stay longer silent.

"I'm fine", his friend replied, "we should go", he added with a pathetic try to smile.

Unfortunately he was right.

Next inn allowed them to change horses. Athos watched Aramis bringing the beasts to them. The innkeeper and a stable boy accompanied them.

"Messieurs we will take care of getting your horses ready and my wife will hastily giving you something to eat. We have a really good soup…"

"Thank you, but we don't have time…", Athos started to say, only to be harshly interrupted by Constance.

"It's a brilliant idea though we can't spare more time that you need to saddle our horses."

The man seemed to be astonished that a woman was riding with musketeers.

"Yes, my lady", he curtsied anxiously obviously taking her for a noble. He extended his hand to help her dismount and the redhead eagerily accepted his aid.

Athos slipped down and tried desperately not to lose his balance when the black spots were dancing before his eyes. He felt that someone caught and guided him toward a bench. He was quite surprised when he saw Aramis at his side. He was sure the medic was in far worse condition than he.

The lieutenant hissed when the marksman's fingers were palpating his head. He suddenly realized that was resting his forehead on his brother's arm.

Constance was saying something. Maybe asking? He could barely discerning her voice.

"His skull is intact", Aramis said too loud for Athos' comfort.

"I'm fine. Told you…", the swordsman hoped he murmured those words but could not be sure as the medic only sighed.

"Eat!", Constance ordered. She put the steaming bowls in men's hands. They drank in haste as the innkeeper had been true to his word and bring horses ready for the ride.

"Do you need anything more?", he asked.

"Yes", Athos said, "If musketeers ask about us tell them we're heading to the coast and will appreciate the back up."

"Of course", the man repeated swordsman's words to be sure he remembered them correctly.

And their short moment of respite was over.

The animals were eager to chase. Athos hoped they made for the lost time. The grey day was slowly transforming into greyish evening.

"There", Aramis hissed suddenly, his hand indicating something in the distance. Athos could discern only foggy shadows but he trusted their marksman's eyes.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"A group of riders. They'll should disappear soon behind that hill, so we can follow them."

"But we need a plan." the swordsman finished.

What kind of plan do I hope to create? We are outnumbered and we are the ones who are chasing. We cannot simply attack them as they have the royal hostages…

"We need to overtake them and set a trap", Athos said painfully aware that he demand nearly impossible.

Aramis only nodded. After a while he directed the horse into the forest to the barely visible path. Athos knew this shortcut and he was sure it would be a difficult ride without light and without their favorite sure-footed horses. He could only hope that Constance would remain saddled.

Athos curled on horseback, his face leaning into the mane in an attempt to avoid all low branches which seemed to do everything to make him fall. His head was pounding unmercifully, each horse move revibrating into his skull.

After an eternity of pain they reached a clearing. Then they were galloping down the slope as long as it was possible due to the thickness of the forest.

A fascinating kind of torture. I never had a hangover so bad… And I am an expert at it.

Suddenly Aramis stopped.

"We're close to the road. What's our plan?", the marksman's question shook Athos to the core. He did not come up with an ingenious trap while they were riding. He had been simply fighting not to end up on the ground. He failed his brothers and his soldiers. Aramis look up to his leader as he should due to their ranks. But he had no answer.

The medic was eyeing him in silence.

"Well… so I climb a tree and shoot as many as I manage. In the meanwhile you try to localize our hostages… we need a distraction…", Aramis sighed. He was not as good tactician as Athos but he knew how bad his plan was.

"Porthos gave me two bombs", Constance told them. Her voice tense.

"So we have a way to distract them.", Aramis concluded.

They needed a brilliant plan. Now they were simply going to face a disaster.

Think! Think! Before it's too late!

They needed to quickly set a trap. A good trap.

Aramis took over. He indicated where all of them should hide and instructed how to act. The plan still seemed to be a mad one but Athos could not come across a better one.

A/N

My gratitude to Legate_of_Apples for betaing. I've forgotten to add it to the previous chapter which also was Legate's doing. I'm sorry!