A/N: Thank you pallysd'Artagnan and SnidgetHex for reviewing again! Time for Athos and d'Artagnan to do something. ;)
Chapter 4
D'Artagnan reached down and picked up Aramis's hat off the ground in the small glade on the edge of the forest. "It doesn't look like there was an attack," he said, casting a confused look over the saddles and bags that sat undisturbed save for animals having dug out some of the packed rations. Other than that it didn't appear that anything had been rifled through.
Athos stood across from him, also surveying the scene. "They stopped to let Vrita and Rhaego hunt," he surmised.
"If something happened to Aramis and Porthos, the dragons would have come back to the garrison for help," d'Artagnan said.
"They would have gone after their riders first," Athos corrected.
"But then where are they now?" he pressed.
Athos studied the abandoned supplies for another long moment, not that it seemed to give him any insight.
A twig snapping had them both reaching for their swords and whirling toward the sound. A trapper walked out behind some bushes, a brace of rabbits slung across his shoulders. He froze upon seeing them.
"Scuse me," he said, taking a step back. "I was just passin' through."
"Do you frequent this area?" Athos asked.
The man shifted nervously. "Sometimes," he said vaguely.
"We're looking for two musketeer dragon riders who may have run into some trouble here," Athos went on. "Did you notice anything in the past few days?"
The man flicked a harried gaze past them to where Savron stood at the edge of the trees, silently watching. "Dragon riders," he repeated, mouth sounding suddenly dry.
"Yes, did you see them?" d'Artagnan asked. "A red and a green one."
The man shook his head, but there was a shifty look in his eyes now. "No, I haven't seen 'em. But dragons crossing this territory do so at their own risk."
Athos narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"
The trapper glanced around as though afraid they weren't alone. "Nothin'. You should take your dragon and leave."
"Not without finding out what happened to our friends," d'Artagnan said, taking a firm step forward. "If you know something…"
"I don't know about your friends," the man insisted. "And if Gunther hears I was talkin' about him…"
"Who's Gunther?" Athos asked.
The trapper shook his head.
"No one has to know you told us," d'Artagnan interjected, giving him a beseeching look.
He hesitated another moment longer, then said, "He runs a fight ring. His men roam the lands looking for dragons to capture for the sport. I hear he sometimes takes men too."
D'Artagnan threw a horrified look at Athos. "Do you think that's where they ended up?"
Athos didn't respond. "Where is this fight ring?" he asked the trapper.
"In a small valley east of here. There's an old fortress Gunther has set up his operation in."
Athos nodded. "Thank you."
The man faltered, but then took the dismissal and hurried away.
Athos waved Savron forward and began packing up Aramis's and Porthos's saddlebags.
"So, we're heading there, right?" d'Artagnan asked.
"Yes," Athos replied. "But we'll go on foot." He lifted one of the bags to sling over Savron's back. "Stay high in the sky. We don't want to draw the attention of these dragon trappers."
Savron let out a plaintive warble in response.
D'Artagnan, who was getting better at understanding the nuances of dragon expressions, pulled out his pocket mirror. "We can signal you with this if we need help."
Athos nodded in approval and went to grab the other saddlebag to secure to Savron's back. "All right?" he asked.
Savron bobbed his head affirmatively.
"Then let's go."
It was a long walk to the valley the trapper had told them about. D'Artagnan thought they could have at least ridden Savron partway, but he understood it wouldn't do them any good to get him captured as well, and the altitude the silverback was currently flying at was too high for humans to tolerate.
The fortress was where the trapper said it was, an ancient castle that looked like an abandoned ruin from a distance. As they got closer though, d'Artagnan spotted guards stationed at one of the gates.
The men didn't address them as they walked up, merely narrowed their eyes.
"We're here for the fights," Athos said.
"As contenders or spectators?" one guard asked.
"Spectators."
"That's five sou. Each."
D'Artagnan glanced at Athos, who wordlessly pulled out his coin purse and handed over the entry fee for both of them.
"Betting's already closed for this round," the guard informed them as he opened the gate to grant them admittance. "Also, no weapons are allowed in the balcony."
D'Artagnan's jaw tightened as two more guards inside stepped into their path and waited expectantly. He didn't like handing over his sword and pistol, but they couldn't risk giving themselves away yet, if Aramis and Porthos truly were here.
Athos said nothing as he unclipped his pistol and sword and handed them over. D'Artagnan reluctantly did the same. Only then were they allowed to venture further into the castle, following a corridor lit with torches that led them down a set of wide stairs into what would have been the dungeon. But they came out into a balcony that rimmed what looked like a large cavern, a mass of people pressed up against the balustrades. Snarls echoed off the cave walls.
D'Artagnan and Athos pushed their way through the crowd until they came to an opening where they could see what was so captivating. D'Artagnan's heart jumped into his throat. Nearly two stories below, Vrita was brawling with a black dragon while Aramis and Porthos kept trying to scramble out of their way. Both beasts had spiked collars and irons around their wings.
The black dragon rammed Vrita back into the wall so hard dust broke loose. She shrieked and sagged, struggling to get back up.
"Vrita!" Porthos shouted.
The black dragon whipped its gaze toward him with a hiss. Before it could charge at him though, Vrita snapped her jaws around its foreleg and yanked. It stumbled and twisted back to go for her jugular.
Porthos darted out into the center of the ring and scooped up some dirt, which he tossed at the black dragon's face, earning another enraged screech. The brief distraction gave Vrita the opportunity to tackle the black dragon. Porthos darted out of their tumbling path and back to the edge of the pit where Aramis was.
D'Artagnan gripped the balcony ledge with white knuckles, unable to do anything but watch with suspended breath as Vrita and the black dragon continued to fight, until finally she tore out a chunk from its shoulder and it let out a blood-curdling cry before hobbling away.
People in the audience crowed and cheered. D'Artagnan was going to be sick.
Gates down in the arena were pulled up and the black dragon quickly retreated through one. Porthos hurried to Vrita's side as guards rushed in with onyx-tipped spears and hooked poles. Vrita spat and hissed at them, lowering her head protectively around Porthos.
"Tell her to stand down," someone called out.
D'Artagnan had been so focused on Vrita that he hadn't seen the men coming out from another tunnel and grabbing Aramis, placing a knife to his throat. Porthos glared daggers at them, but after a strained moment, he turned to Vrita as though talking quietly to her. D'Artagnan wanted nothing more than to launch himself over the balcony ledge and come to his friends' defense as Porthos moved back and was seized. Vrita growled in protest but as soon as a knife was brought to Porthos's throat, she submitted to the guards.
"We need to leave," Athos said in d'Artagnan's ear.
D'Artagnan hesitated, watching as his brothers disappeared into a shaft, then turned to follow Athos out. They were given their weapons back, no one the wiser about their identity, even though they hadn't bothered to remove their pauldrons before entering. Maybe the outer minions didn't know they had two musketeers captive down there.
"We have to rescue them," d'Artagnan declared as soon as they were out of earshot of the guards.
"We need a plan," Athos replied.
"What about reinforcements from the garrison?"
"Half the dragon riders are out and it will take too long to deploy the rest of the regiment, in which time Aramis and Porthos could be thrown into the ring again. They already looked to be barely hanging on in that round."
D'Artagnan clenched his fists. "We need to gain access to the lower levels, find where they're being kept. There has to be another entrance, one large enough to get dragons inside."
Athos nodded, then pulled up short. "I have an idea."
.o.0.o.
They did a circuit of the fortress first, locating a large gate in the rear that could admit a dragon to the underground complex. Then they went a short distance away and signaled Savron with d'Artagnan's pocket mirror, hoping any dragon hunters would be hunting further away from their own base of operations. Athos explained the plan to his dragon before taking a coil of rope from his saddlebag and fashioning a bridle out of it. A set of chains would have been more appropriate, but they didn't have one of those at their disposal. Athos then removed the saddle and bags and tucked it away under some brush.
"I hope this works," d'Artagnan remarked as they started back toward the castle.
Athos didn't say anything.
There were no guards that they could see but there must have been a lookout spot, for the gates opened at their arrival.
"Who are you and state your business!" someone called out sharply.
"I'm here to see Gunther," Athos replied. "I have a business proposition for him."
There were several uncertain looks exchanged among the men before the one who spoke told them to wait here. Athos didn't have to try to appear bored, whereas d'Artagnan was having a difficult time keeping still.
A short while later, a man with a fur cloak strode out to meet them. "I hear you got a business deal for me," he said, eyes flashing eagerly over Savron. "Come to sell me a dragon?"
"Not exactly," Athos replied. "I am the Comte de la Fère. I know men can enter themselves as contenders in your fights; I'd like to submit my dragon. For a commission fee, of course."
Gunther narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I got plenty of dragons. Why should I spend coin on yours?"
"Because fresh blood is always good for entertainment," Athos went on nonchalantly. "Also, as he is my beast, you won't have to worry about his keep or feed."
Gunther flicked another hungry look at Savron before turning back to Athos skeptically. "You hold him with just a rope? No chains? No fetters?"
"He is well trained." Athos turned to his dragon. "Down," he commanded.
Savron ducked his head submissively and lowered his belly to touch the ground. Athos was grateful his dragon was a good actor; he could just imagine how their entire act would be blown if it were Rhaego they had to bring in undercover.
Gunther scrutinized them for several long moments before his face finally cracked into a sneer. "You only get a percentage if your dragon wins."
Athos pretended to consider it for a second. "Very well."
"Don't know how much of a fight he'll put up, cowed like that," Gunther went on. "But if you're willing to risk the loss…"
Athos's eye twitched a fraction. This man would see his dragon's might unleashed soon enough.
"Bring him in," Gunther said.
Athos shared a look with d'Artagnan as they ventured into the underground fortress. The gates closed behind them, sealing their fate if their plan didn't work out.
"We'll queue him up for the next fight," Gunther said as he led the way down a tunnel. "The dragon passages are this way."
Athos glanced up and down adjoining shafts, which seemed to run in a vast, interlocking network. It would be a challenge not getting lost.
They entered one passage with large cages set into the stone. Athos caught sight of russet red and nudged d'Artagnan to get his attention. There was no sign of Vrita, or Aramis and Porthos, but one look at the marksman's dragon curled up in the corner and shaking, and Athos was done with the ruse.
"Savron," he said, the only cue his dragon needed to launch into action. Athos tugged the lead rope, undoing the slip knot in the bridle so it immediately fell off. Savron whirled toward the set of guards following them and smacked them with his foreleg so viciously they went slamming into the wall and crumpled to the ground.
"What are—"
Athos grabbed Gunther by the front of his shirt and flung him to the ground next. Savron stomped a foot down on him, pinning him in place while Athos pawed through the man's pockets in search of keys. He found a set and tossed them to d'Artagnan, who rushed to unlock Rhaego's cage.
Rhaego lifted his head, flinching away at first until he recognized the young Gascon.
"Hey," d'Artagnan coaxed. "Easy. We're getting you out of here."
Rhaego slowly pushed himself up on unsteady legs and hobbled out of the cage with d'Artagnan.
"Where's Vrita?"
The russet dragon belted out a trumpet call, which was answered a moment later by a similar one down a nearby corridor.
"You go," Athos said. "I'll find Aramis and Porthos."
D'Artagnan gave a sharp nod and placed a hand on Rhaego's neck. "Can you lead me to Vrita?"
Rhaego started shuffling down the tunnel, and d'Artagnan followed.
Athos fixed a menacing glare on Gunther. "Where are the human prisoners kept?"
"You think you can cross me?" the man seethed.
Savron opened his mouth and roared right in Gunther's face, spraying him with spit and sweltering dragon's breath. For all his bravado and disparaging treatment of dragons, that left him a blithering mess on the ground.
Athos nodded to Savron, who lifted his foot, and then hauled Gunther to his feet. "You will take us there now, or I won't stop my dragon from eviscerating you right here."
Gunther gestured shakily down another passage. Athos shoved him forward to lead the way. They hadn't gone very far before a group of guards rounded a corner up ahead and pulled up short in alarm. Savron ducked his head low to the ground and spewed forth a geyser of fire that washed across the floor and swept the men up in its wave. Athos craned his neck away from the blistering heat.
The flames quickly died down and they pressed forward until they came upon a row of cells with a handful of men in them.
Athos grabbed Gunther roughly and slammed him against the wall. "The musketeers you took prisoner. Where are they?"
"Second juncture- on the right," he gritted out.
Athos cast a look at the other prisoners; they'd have to come back for them. He shoved Gunther forward again, taking the second passage that opened up on the right. A single guard was coming toward him and Athos whipped out his pistol to shoot him down. He quickly passed Gunther back to Savron to keep in check while he bent down to search this guard for another set of keys. He found one.
"Athos?" a voice called incredulously.
Athos quickened his pace down the corridor until he spotted a familiar face peering through the bars.
"I don' believe it," Porthos uttered. "How'd you find us?"
"Long story," Athos replied, fitting various keys in the lock to find the right one. On the third, the lock clicked and the door opened.
Porthos hurried to the back of the cell and reached down to haul Aramis to his feet, slinging the marksman's arm over his shoulder. Athos frowned at Aramis's state; he hadn't seen from the spectator balcony that he was injured, but his shirt had a tear in the side and was tinged with dried blood. He was pale and unsteady on his feet as well.
"I'm really glad to see you," Aramis said with a breathless wince.
"We have to find our dragons," Porthos said urgently.
"D'Artagnan has Rhaego and they were on their way to Vrita," Athos assured him as he stepped in to help take some of his brother's weight.
Porthos briefly transferred all of Aramis's support to Athos and went back to snatch up their coats.
Outside the cell, Savron had Gunther pinned against the wall with his fangs bared in the man's face.
"You won't make it out of here," he spat at them.
An echoing dragon roar resounded from deep in the underground fortress, followed by distant screams. Savron cocked his head toward it. Athos figured it was one of his den mates.
"I beg to differ," he replied, letting Porthos take all of Aramis's weight again so he could draw his sword and grab Gunther.
They made their way back toward the other cells and Athos unlocked one, then passed the key to that man to open the rest.
"Are there any other prisoners in another passage?" he asked.
"Don't think so," one of them answered.
Once all the fighters were free, they began making their way back through the tunnels toward the place they'd come in at. Gunther's men were scrambling now at the ruckus and were heavily armed, but as two more loose dragons came through another tunnel, belching fire and snapping at the closest targets, the guards started to cut their losses and flee.
"Rhaego," Aramis called breathlessly.
D'Artagnan hurried over to them, Rhaego and Vrita hobbling behind him, as the other freed prisoners went to open the gates.
"Hey," d'Artagnan said, brow furrowing with worry as he looked over Aramis and Porthos. He turned to Athos. "There's four other dragons down here."
Athos pursed his mouth in consideration. He passed Gunther to d'Artagnan. "Get everyone out and clear the area outside the gates." He then cocked his head for Savron to follow him back into the depths of the underground fortress. They weren't finished here.