The Loss

Chapter 14

She stopped for a moment, only for a moment, and just to catch her breath.

She saw the hand go up and Aramis' brothers begin to flank him. They were still nearly 40 paces back.

She saw the hand go up and heard the pistol fire. She saw the madman fall.

She saw Aramis scoop something up.

She saw his eyes, his fierce, dark eyes, catching hers and softening just for a heartbeat.

She saw his eyes.

He turned away and leapt into the tent - into the fire.

She had barely exhaled the word "Aramis" before she was running towards danger and the fire that threatened the man that she loved.

She was running towards the burning tent as it erupted in a burst of light before her eyes.

She threw her hands up as the light hit her and was momentarily halted.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.

She was up and running again towards the devastation of the burning tent.

"Aramis!" She cried and pushed forward.

"Christine! No! It's not safe!" Arms were holding her back. Cornet's arms.

She threw her elbow into his jaw and he released her with a groan as she pulled herself forward once again.

She had to get to him. She had to find him.

The tent was in ruins. Charred remains of crates and a few storage trunks were all that seemed clear of the blast radius and stood like odd sentinels around the periphery of the explosion. Smoking tendrils of canvas fluttered to the ground.

"Aramis!" she called again; she was almost there.

"Aramis!" her voice echoed Porthos' and D'Artagnan's as they pulled themselves towards the smoking remains.

The heavy canvas tent was supposed to have helped to quell the explosion. The crates and parcels were kept empty of any flammable or explosive substances. The Musketeers had assumed Ramero would use gunpowder if things went wrong. It had been their intention to drive Ramero into the tent before an explosion was sent off.

Their plan had almost worked.

Ramero had managed to light the bomb's long fuse on a piece of burning debris when Aramis struck him to his knees – something they were not expecting.

Their plan was supposed to have Ramero well within the tent before the explosive could be detonated.

The plan was thrown away when Ramero was felled too near the entrance to the tent.

The plan was thrown out the window when Aramis picked up the explosive. He was a marksman after all. He knew about time and distance, and his years of battle had taught him all he needed about the damage explosives could do.

He saw the courtiers coming nearer; he saw his brothers standing close – almost too close. Then he saw her and he knew he had to protect her. He had to get rid of the bomb.

"Aramis!" she called again, but was caught this time by Athos, his hands pushing her back.

"Christine!" he shouted, holding her from the wreckage. "Don't go in there! It's not safe!"

"I don't care! I don't care Athos! Let me go! He's in there!" she fought him. He tried to hold her firm but she was fighting tooth and nail.

"Christine!" he pleaded, "Christine! I'll find him for you! I swear it Christine! I'll find him for you…"

"No Athos! He'll come back! He promised me…" she cried. At some point tears had begun to fall violently down her face.

She gasped at the desolate expression on D'Artagnan's face as he looked desperately and hopelessly around at the wreckage of the crates at his feet, and she fought Athos even harder because of it.

"Christine," muttered Cornet from over her shoulder as Athos held her in place. He had finally caught up to her, but his tone made it clear he'd prefer to be anywhere but staring at the smoking ruins of the tent.

Porthos was still tossing crates aside, not far from the fallen pile of storage trunks.

"Christine, please," Athos pleaded again.

Porthos paused in his search panting and ran a hand through his hair as he glanced wildly at the pile of trunks and the damage around him. She watched him wilt.

"No," Christine whispered as she saw the strength of Porthos be pulled from him. Athos looked back at the same scene and his breath caught. His grip weakened.

"No," she said again, louder now and she pulled herself away from Athos.

"No!" she cried as she ran towards where Porthos stood.

"No! Aramis! Aramis!" she called desperately as she crossed the smouldering remains of the crates, scorching the hem of her skirt. Porthos caught her before she could get far and she was helpless in his grip. She fought him anyway, her arms pushing futilely at the large man as she fought to find Aramis.

"No Porthos! No! He promised…he promised he'd come back…he swore! Aramis!" she sobbed against him and realized Porthos was sobbing too.

He held her and she cried as her heart was sucked from her chest. "I've lost him," she whispered as she and Porthos fell to their knees. Was it his body supporting hers or hers supporting his? She couldn't be sure. All feeling had been stolen from her as the world was robbed of colour and intense pain radiated from her chest.

oOo