Constance

The shots gave the signal for their attack. Athos and Constance entered the group of riders aiming the horses carrying the royal hostages. The redhead hoped she would remain seated when Aramis would throw the bombs. Thankfully, the stress of the fight made her forget how painful was her body. In the end this truly did not matter, the only thing that mattered was to save the Queen. Now, the former tailor's wife understood what d'Artagnan loved in musketeers' way of life. She knew their odds were bad, however, the excitement was prevailing any common sense.

Constance was parrying, dodging, the horse underneath her was dancing according to her will. Or it was the beast which seemed to be more aware of how to avoid blows. Finally, the redhead managed to approach the horse with the two riders. One of them looked much like a bundle than a human being - he was thrown over the horseback. Constance did not waste time to look closer, she simply attacked the rider. The man was clearly at a disadvantage however he managed to parry her attack. A bullet hit his head and he seemed to pointingly looked at Constance, his eyes empty, before he fell from the horse nearly taking his bundle with himself - to the ground.

Never had the redhead known how she managed to slip from her horse and catch the hostage so that she sank to her knees with it in her arms. She recognized the smell of expensive perfumes and knew she held the King in her lap. She needed to defend him, but the rapier suddenly felt so heavy in her hand. Despite it, she parried the first blow and dodged the second. She heard the explosions and was astonished that Aramis decided to use their secret weapon so late.

A man she was desperately defending herself from fell to his knees, Athos' main gauche in his back. But the swordsman was nowhere to be seen so she had to finish off her other opponent. She looked around and saw three riders leaving the fight. One horse was carrying double weight.

"Athos!", she cried desperately but before the swordsman managed to reacted another rider started a chase.

Aramis.

The swordsman suddenly appeared at her side.

"Check on him", he muttered.

Constance drop to her knees to untangle the bundle from the cloak which covered him completely.

"Your Highness!", she choked when the semi-conscious gaze met her eyes.

The King eyes drifted closed.

"Take me to Paris", he ordered, sounded so confused and scared. And this time Constance could not blame him for that.

"We should go.", Athos declared.

"And the Queen?", Constance gasped, "We cannot leave her!"

"Aramis is after her. The King is key to France stability.", the swordsman replied stiffly.

"My wife…?", Louis mumbled, "Rochefort cannot have her again!", there was fear and something else in his desperate pleas.

Constance looked at Athos. They both were not fit to fight or to escort anyone. The musketeer was deathly pale, fresh blood running down his face and hiding into his collar.

"I'll go after Rochefort. You take his Majesty to safety.", Constance decided, as she knew Athos was not able to make this decision.

The swordsman wanted to protest or ask a question but the redhead made her mind and somehow managed to mount her horse.

"Be safe!", Athos choked.

She only nodded, not trusting herself enough to say a word. She did not want Athos to give d'Artagnan her last farewell.

The redhead glanced one last time at Athos trying to pull the King on his feet and maneuvered her way through the bodies to pursuit Rochefort and Anne.

Her body screamed for a reprieve. Each breathe hurt her but she knew she could not slow down. Deep into her heart she started to accept that she would give her life for Anne's safety. The young woman felt the sting of regret. Anne had told her that her husband was proclaimed dead so she could marry d'Artagnan and now she would die before even being spouse to her beloved when finally it had become possible.

However, there was no way that her own regrets would stop her in rescuing her friend and her Queen.

Or trying to rescue.

Aramis' handkerchief indicated to her which road she should take.

So he hoped we'd join him...

Constance heard shots and urge her horse to run faster. There was still a big distance between her and the fight when she heard a terrible woman's scream. Anne's scream. The seamstress made the tired animal to gallop in a mad pace. The horse could not maintain it long but it seemed it did not even have to try it as after they reached the hill the scene of the fight was visible.

She was too far to act. She could only watch Aramis sinking to his knees. The wriggling and struggling bundle in the mud nearly in his hand reach. Two bodies lying near him but Rochefort standing above him. The comte was clearly wounded, his hand tightly pressed to his side. The other one was holding a gun aimed at the musketeer.

"Rochefort!", Constance screamed and the comte reacted exactly as she hoped - instinctively he shot at her and missed. The medic used the moment of distraction and threw himself at the kidnapper but the man managed to dodge him. He clearly wanted to take the bundle with him but the musketeer somehow stood on his way.

The redhead felt relieved that the marksman was still able to fight. She maneuvered her rushing horse directly at the comte. He realized her plan, she was sure he hesitated for a moment but then he chose to flee. Constance followed him a few metres and then she allowed her tired beast to slow down.

She turned back to the rescued Queen and the marksman and froze. Aramis was lying on his side trying to free Anne. Constance dropped to her knees near them. A few hasty movements of her main gauche and the Queen was free. At first she tried to escape in a wild panic but Constance managed to catch her into her arms.

The young monarch looked terrible. Her face covered in blood. Constance discerned a few cuts on her skin. But as the wounds were not life threatening she did not concentrated on them.

"Anne, please, calm down, you're safe", she murmured softly holding strongly the other woman. She cast a pleading look towards Aramis but the marksman was barely conscious.

"Aramis!", Constance cried with dread.

"Take Anne to Paris", he ordered.

The fear in redhead's voice seemed to cut through Anne's panic as the young monarch followed her gaze.

"Aramis!", she scrambled on her feet and dropped near the musketeer. Her hands wanted to reach him but stopped in the air shakingly. Constance too quickly understood why - a knife hilt was protruding from the medic's side.

The marksman tried to smile through pain.

"You must leave for Paris.", he insisted pushing away the women's hands, "He might be still nearby.", he gasped, "Please Constance…", there was silent resignation in his eyes and unspoken farewell.

"I won't leave you", the redhead declared desperately, aware that she had no choice. She could not send Anne alone with Rochefort lurking around them. It was impossible to say when their friends or allies may join them so trying get to Paris was the only thing they could do.

Anne gently touched Aramis' face.

"How can we help you?", she asked her voice small and Constance was fighting tears.

"Be safe…", the marksman's whispered, "Take care of them…" he added and none of the woman was sure to whom he directed his words.

Anne close the distance between them and softly kissed Aramis mouth.

A goodbye.

Constance bit her lip angrily.

I cannot leave you to die.

She tore off a hem of her shirt to stabilize the knife in his side though the very action made her sick. Only did she finish she realized that the musketeer sustained another wound which was still bleeding heavily. This time she tore his shirt to try to staunch blood with a makeshift bandage. He only winced in pain but otherwise did not react to her ministration.

"We cannot leave him…", Anne declared with fear.

"Nor can we stay here", Constance added. She watched the two horses grazing grass and weighed her options.

"Anne, you must help me to put him on horseback."

"Won't it kill him?"

"I don't know!", Constance nearly cried.

Her friend was looking at her frightened, seeking a piece of advice and hope. Instead, the redhead was searching for anything which could help them to put the wounded man in the saddle. Finally she saw a large trunk which might be helpful. She dragged Aramis to it, then she led the horse there. Anne looked at them her eyes wide and fearful.

Constance explained quickly how she wanted to act then she shook the marksman.

"Wake up! Please!"

He mumbled something. She slapped him though her heart was hurting. Finally he opened his eyes.

"I need you to mount the horse. We will help you but without you we won't manage it."

He watched her for several moments before he blinked slowly his agreement. It was a struggle. The musketeer did his best to cooperate but his body did not want to. Suddenly a scream tore from him when the knife changed its position in his wound, cutting his flesh. Both women murmured their apologies. They gave him a moment of respite and tried again. Finally he was saddled and barely held onto consciousness.

"Bind me to the saddle.", he ordered and Constance followed. His wounds were bleeding again and there was nothing to be done there though the young woman tried to readjust the bandages but it did not seem to work.

She took his horse reins, and after Anne mounted the second animal, sat behind her. She felt lightheaded but she knew that there was no reprieve for her until Anne was safe.

The other riderless horses followed them.

They could not ride fast due to Aramis' condition and horses fatigue so there was no chance they caught Athos and the King.

God… I'm alone with my dying friend and the Queen whom I've sworn to protect.

A rare dread hit Constance.

You're a musketeer, you're one of them. They told you it so many times. Now, you have to prove it! You must be strong for Anne and… Aramis… or the others if he dies.

A/N

Legate of Apples thank you for betaing!