V. The People that War forgot
"Where?" Athos questioned matter-of-factly, and leaned backwards on his elbows so he stayed out of any potential enemy's sight.
Aramis took a deep breath. "About a mile south of this village. At least ten horsemen."
"How many in total?" Athos dug deeper.
Aramis shook his head and indecisively scratched his beard. "Thirty, maybe forty. Too many, if that's what you're asking."
Athos pressed his lips into a thin line. "Anything else?"
The marksman nodded. "I was able to overhear a conversation. My English is very bad, but I think this General's real name is Lord Eadmund. If it's truly him, it is rumored he is quite close to Buckingham. The English losses were numerous in Saint-Blanceau, but they have been able to maintain the beach."
"As expected," Athos commented dryly.
"Sorry," Porthos interrupted brusquely, "but I don't see how this is of importance now. There are English troops marching towards us, and those French citizens will be caught in the crossfire!" He made a wide gesture towards the few houses.
Athos took a second to gather his thoughts. This was not a situation he was used to, and for which nothing he had experienced in the past two years had prepared him. Here he was, together with Aramis, Porthos and Arthur. Four musketeers, lying in the grass next to a village, while a small army of the enemy came closer with every breath. The survival instinct in Athos screamed at him to retreat back to the fortress, but as usual, Athos' duty prevailed.
He knew what duty required. And he knew what the others were waiting for.
"Alright, Arthur, you head back to camp. We need more men here."
Arthur nodded and shouldered his rifle. "I'll be back as soon as possible."
Athos turned towards the other two musketeers. "Porthos, Aramis…?"
He didn't even have to ask the question out loud, without another word, his friends had already figured out what to do and started approaching the village. Athos followed them closely, with one hand wrapped tightly around the butt of his pistol, ready to do whatever would be necessary should things get out of hand
Aramis walked in the front, as usual, since Porthos and Athos had learnt to have him talk to potential allies first. While Porthos and Athos had insisted that the reason for that was Aramis' unbeatable and slightly annoying talent for talking his way out of dire situations, Aramis had decided it was due to the grim-looking faces of Athos and Porthos. Porthos had protested wildly at the statement, but Athos had just shrugged it off. Aramis wasn't wrong after all.
The first one to spot them was a middle-aged woman, with slightly dirty, blonde hair, who was dragging a bucket filled with water out of her front door. At the sight of three heavily armed musketeers approaching the house, she dropped everything.
The bucket crashed to the ground and its contents spilled over the whole entrance area, which elicited an impressive number of curse words from the lady. Another voice could be heard from inside, and its source soon revealed itself when a man, probably the woman's husband, stumbled towards the entrance. The man glared at the musketeers only for a short moment. The next thing Athos knew was that there was a gun aimed at them.
"Who are you?" the man yelled, and suddenly, they had the attention of the whole village. Everyone nearby, who had ignored the musketeers so far, stopped whatever they were doing and turned their heads towards them.
Porthos raised his hands, showing he was unarmed. "Easy now."
"What do you want?" another voice asked and Athos turned his head to the left only to see another pistol aimed at his head. He still kept a firm grip on his own pistol.
Athos threw a look at Aramis, waiting for his friend to take over and diffuse the situation with a few well-chosen, soothing words.. He knew that Aramis liked to be the polite one, but he couldn't help but notice how Aramis' hand was also resting on the hilt of his sword.
"We, Mesdames and Messieurs, may well be your rescue squad." Aramis squinted his eyes and tilted his head, staring directly at the barrel aiming at his head. "Do yourself a favor and don't shoot your rescuers."
"We don't want trouble," the man in the doorway said mildly, not lowering his weapon an inch.
"Yeah, that makes two of us," Porthos commented. "Look, drop your weapons, and we'll explain."
Athos made a small step forward. "You're just wasting precious time at the moment," he commented in the farmer's direction.
Aramis sighed, and a polite, but slightly dangerous grin crossed his face. "Listen, Monsieur. First, you can go ahead and shoot three musketeers of the King, but I assure you, we can draw our weapons faster than you can pull the trigger. Second, if you believe us to be a threat to you, I'll gladly watch you react to the three dozen English soldiers who are on their way to your village." His expression changed, and he looked deadly serious now.
Athos decided it was time to step in, and he grew more impatient with each second that passed.
"In other words: You can accept the help of the King's musketeers, or you can be slaughtered by Buckingham's troops. Your choice."
The man in the doorway lowered his weapons instantly, and with a flick of his wrist, the other citizens around them followed his example. He hurried down the stairs and came to a halt in front of Aramis, who tilted his head as a greeting.
"You should've said you were musketeers right away." He offered Aramis a hand. "Lucien Valle. Pleasure."
Aramis looked a little surprised, but he took the hand and shook it. "Aramis." He then pointed towards where Porthos and Athos were standing. "My friends, Porthos and Athos," he introduced them.
Lucien bowed his head. "Who of you three is in charge?"
The question was left unanswered, and the three friends merely exchanged a few glances. Porthos grinned, Aramis chuckled, and even Athos' mouth formed something like a smile.
The woman next to Lucien shook her head in exasperation and leaned over to her husband. "Musketeers," she muttered. "Livin' up to the expectations. No discipline, no authority. So, who's in charge?"
Athos briefly considered a short and brutal lecture at the moment, but the look on Porthos' face spoke volumes. His face was like stone, and he had his arms crossed in front of his chest. To a stranger, he probably looked quite intimidating.
"You're standing in front of the men in charge," he growled. "And you can think about us whatever you like, but we're here to save you ungrateful souls from Buckingham's troops. You should come with us. It's an offer, not an order."
Athos walked up next to Porthos. "But I should point out that the choice is quite mandatory."
Lucien raised a placating hand. His eyes searched those of the other villagers – and they seemed to come to an agreement.
"I appreciate your offer, and your information. But we all agreed that Buckingham and his troops of misled Englishmen will not chase us off our lands."
"Honorable," Athos replied coolly, and he pulled out his pistol just in case. "But it gets you killed."
"We're just civilians," Lucien's wife spoke up, and Athos could hear the bitterness in her voice. "And our needs have been ignored before. Why should we accept help now? It's a bit late for that, don't you think?"
Athos seriously considered forcing these people to leave at gunpoint, but Aramis, apparently alerted by the look on Athos' face, intervened in time.
"With all due respect, Madame," he said in an urgent voice. "I do not speak for the Commander, but I believe you can say I speak for the King. Come with us, I cannot promise it will be luxury to live under our protection, but it's safer than staying here."
Lucien shook his head. "This is my land. Our land. I won't give it up without a fight."
Anger welled up in Athos, and he shook his head violently, snorting in disbelief.
"Aramis, if these fools want to get killed over some dust and ruins," he said, his voice tight with frustration, "I won't stop them."
Porthos to Athos' right grunted and shook his head. "We're not leavin' them behind."
Athos glared at him and then raised his pistol and pointed it at Lucien. "Alright. We don't have much time left thanks to you. You're coming with us. Now."
"You're not going to shoot me," Lucien dared to speak, but Athos didn't miss the tremor in his voice. "You're a musketeer."
Aramis, apparently torn between lecturing Athos and lecturing Lucien, helplessly stepped between the two of them. Athos merely took a step to the side, still aiming his pistol at Lucien.
"Last chance," he threatened, hoping nobody would realize he was bluffing and that of course he wasn't going to shoot the civilian, no matter how tempting it might be. But he remembered something his father used to say when Athos was younger. Sometimes being feared brings more results than being loved.
Athos did not care one bit about what the civilians thought of him. Maybe they would be scared of him, but if that was necessary to move them out of this village, it was worth it.
He watched how Lucien desperately bit his lip, thinking over and over again what to do next. Athos' eyes wandered towards Aramis, who was still frozen on his spot halfway between Athos' pistol and Lucien Valle. The marksman's eyes were narrowed skeptically, as if he was trying to figure out whether Athos meant what he said.
When Athos' eyes found Porthos on the other hand, he came to realize that this was a masquerade he couldn't pull off. By the looks of Porthos' face, he had seen straight through Athos' move, but chosen to say nothing so far, apparently hoping Athos' bluff might succeed.
Now he stepped forward and laid a placating hand on Athos' pistol, lowering it to the ground.
"One suggestion," he said slowly and turned back towards Lucien. "Let us help you barricade this village. Maybe the English will leave you alone, maybe not. Most likely not." Porthos scratched his beard and threw a glance at Aramis, who took over.
"If you don't want to come with us, fine, but we have orders to put you under our protection. It's the least we can do."
A moment of silence. Athos was still fighting to keep his impatience under control, and out of the corners of his vision, he could see Aramis nervously scanning the area with his sharp eyes. The time they had was running through their hands like sand, and the more seconds passed, the more Athos wanted to lift his gun again to force an answer.
Lucien finally nodded, and the other surrounding citizen made some agreeing noises. Except for the woman standing in the doorway.
"We don't need your protection, musketeers," she hissed angrily, and Athos finally had enough. He put his pistol away and gestured Aramis and Porthos to come with him. He walked up to the house and shoved the woman to the side as he entered the house. No further words were needed.
"Madame," Aramis apologized cheekily with a little lift of his hat as he followed Athos closely. The swordsman heard Porthos mumble something very impolite on his way into the house.
Athos was already beginning to gather all sorts of furniture, from loose wooden planks to small chairs and plates.
"Barricades," he grunted when he noticed Aramis' slightly puzzled face, and he used a cupboard to block the little window over the kitchen table.
Aramis nodded hesitantly, and grabbed Porthos, who was still standing in the doorway, by the arm, casting nervous glances towards Lucien and his wife.
"Porthos, you can't seriously think that Buckingham is just going to ignore them!" Aramis pointed out rightfully. "Ignore us!" He made a wide gesture and ended up pointing at the pauldron on his shoulder.
"No," Porthos justified straight away "'course not. But if we can't get them to move, maybe Buckingham can." He shot Athos a strict look. "It may be risky, but threatening to shoot them isn't an effective alternative, Athos."
Athos just shrugged, and with Porthos' help, he flipped the massive wooden table over to the side.
"I'll go outside, and calm the people." Aramis said. "Make it clear that there'll be no debate about hiding from Buckingham." He shook his head disbelievingly. "If being friendly doesn't work out, I may come back to you, Athos."
"At your service," Athos grunted grimly as he eyed the barricade on the window skeptically. It wasn't bulletproof, but it should hold out a little bit of gunfire. This was a foolish idea, and even though he was angry because these civilians wouldn't listen to reason, he tried to focus on his duty.
"Monsieur!" a female voice sounded from behind, and Athos turned around to meet a red-haired woman in her twenties, walking over the doorstep. Through the open door, Athos could see that Aramis, by the looks of it, was considering murdering someone in the nervous and loud crowd outside.
"Athos, is it?" she asked, and Athos' noticed her eyes nervously twitching towards Porthos, who was cursing colorfully as he adjusted the table.
"Yes," Athos responded calmly.
"Please!" she cried out, and noticed it had drawn attention of some other civilians. Athos put up a placating hand and joined her on the doorstep.
"Calm down, Madame. What is it?" He was uneasy and apprehensive, as if expecting the enemy's gunfire any second.
"I don't share this…," she lowered her voice, with unshed tears gathering in her eyes. "…this idiot's ideals. Get me out of here, get me and my children into safety. You are our only chance. There are others too that don't want to stay. We just want to get out of here, please, Monsieur!"
Athos knew he could ask many questions. Why Lucien was their spokesmen, and why nobody said anything earlier. But he was a soldier, and his mind was so focused on strategy at the moment it left no room for personal intervention. There were children in this village, and that was the only fact that mattered to him now. To hell with these people and their misguided intention to fight for their land. It was going to get them all killed.
He exchanged a look with Porthos, and though his friend looked grim, he just nodded at Athos as if agreeing to whatever Athos was up to now.
But he had no chance to formulate his plan, nor to execute it.
Athos heard a faint whizzing sound, and a yelled warning from Aramis forced him to take cover behind the open door, pushing the woman behind him.
One single gunshot, an angry scream, and then all hell broke loose.
Note: I'll use multiple POV's (Athos, Porthos and Aramis) from now on. For reasons that become obvious soon enough. Some more action coming soon. Thank you for reading! Also thank you to Laureleaf and Uia for the reviews!