Knowing that their friends had walked into a trap played heavily on d'Artagnan as they moved away from their spot watching the front of the house. They quickly decided that they could not attack the house with just the two of them. They would stick to their original plan and take out some of the patrolling guards and any that were in the grounds. They did not know how many men were in the employ of the Spanish leader but any they could neutralise would mean fewer men hindering any escape attempt that Porthos and Aramis made. They were confident their friends would work out they had walked into danger and try to escape. If they were not given the chance Athos and he would do what they could to liberate them.
The rocky ground around the chateau helped and hindered them. It made the going difficult, they were forced to watch their feet constantly. They did not want to cause too much noise as they moved around the area and they did not want to fall and injure themselves.
A hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder made him pause and look up, Athos pointed ahead of them. Two men were standing with their backs to them deep in conversation. Athos pointed to himself then indicated that he would make his way around the men. He then pointed at d'Artagnan and pointed at the men. D'Artagnan nodded. He watched as Athos moved off, slowly picking his way around the rocks, occasionally changing where he was putting his feet when he found a loose rock.
When Athos had moved around to the front of the men d'Artagnan made his own move. He silently crept up on the men, when he was within a couple of feet of them Athos made his move. The sudden appearance of a man in front of them emerging from behind the rocks had the desired effect. Both men started to pull their weapons. One went for his gun, the other his sword. D'Artagnan made the lightning decision to attack the man that had gone for his gun.
His dagger in his hand d'Artagnan surged forward, he wrapped his arm around the man's chest before the gun could be fully pulled from the man's belt. The dagger was dragged across the unfortunate enemy's neck. An unpleasant task but d'Artagnan needed to keep the man quiet. He could not be allowed to fire his gun nor shout out a warning. As the weakly struggling man passed into unconsciousness and death d'Artagnan eased him to the ground. He looked across to Athos.
His friend had made short work of running the other man through with his sword. The man had stumbled a few steps clutching at his stomach before collapsing to the ground, his fingers opening and closing, clutching at the dusty earth, as he made a futile attempt to pull himself back to the chateau. As the dying man finally stopped moving Athos looked up.
'Let us hope they are all that easily dealt with,' he said.
D'Artagnan nodded grimly, killing men was never something they enjoyed doing, but at times it was a necessity.
After dragging the bodies into some undergrowth, the two Musketeers moved on, skirting around a group of larger rocks, which forced them a little further from the chateau. They moved in silence, there was no need for conversation. They both knew what they had to do.
Noises caused both men to crouch behind a tangle of bramble bushes that had wheedled their way around the rocks, the hardy plant giving the Musketeers the cover they needed. The man that had caused the noise moved off. They could hear some muttered words but not make out what was being said. D'Artagnan got the impression the man was annoyed about something. As the sounds of displaced rocks and the odd cracking twig subsided Athos cautiously stood up after signalling for d'Artagnan to remain where he was. It would not do for them both to be seen. Athos nodded to d'Artagnan that they were alone.
They moved off in the direction the muttering man had gone. Following him at a distance until they found a better area to deal with him. They could hear the man moving ahead of them although d'Artagnan got the impression the man was not alone. They were following him into an area with more vegetation than rocks. They moved a little quicker, able to get closer without risking being seen.
A rapid movement to their left had d'Artagnan twist around, his hand pulling his sword at the same time. Two deer shot out of the cover of some thick bushes, darting about, skittering on the rocks before turning in the direction the man they were following had gone. A shout ahead of them, d'Artagnan guessed from the muttering man, followed by swearing and a lot of movement in the undergrowth. The bushes were moving but they could not see any men. The deer rushed off.
A dog barked.
More swearing.
D'Artagnan realised the man was not alone, but he was not with other men. He had a big dog with him. The snarling, angry-looking beast stopped when he was ordered to by the man. The dog had been about to charge after the deer but skidded to a stop. As the taller bushes were being pushed apart by the handler the dog swung its head around. Its gaze stopped on the Musketeers.
They were both exposed at that moment a few yards from any kind of cover. D'Artagnan started to move off. If the dog was as well trained as it appeared to be there was a chance it would just stay where it was not moving until its handler ordered it to. They had a few seconds before the handler would reach them, they could hide. The handler would not see anyone following him and simply collect the escaped dog and move off again. D'Artagnan glanced at Athos to see which way he was moving.
Athos had not moved. Athos was staring at the dog.
Athos looked terrified.
MMMM
Porthos watched his friend working, he had every faith that Aramis would be able to pick the lock. The door might have been a heavy one, but the lock was relatively simple. With his steady hand and calm approach, Aramis would have the door open in no time, provided he did not keep stopping to help him. He tried not to let his difficulty breathing be too obvious, but knew he was failing when Aramis looked back at him several times.
The position Gallo had cruelly left him was both humiliating and clever. It left him unable to do anything to help in any escape attempt and meant that Aramis was distracted worrying about him.
He blinked a few times, feeling the room spin, he knew the room was not spinning, his hands were resting on the stone floor keeping him still. It was him that felt dizzy. The manacles on his ankles were digging into him, he would probably end up hobbling as much as Aramis was if he managed to get free of them. His head felt heavy, he knew he was starting to pass out again, but did not want to worry Aramis who was close to getting the door open. Porthos made an effort to push himself up slightly but failed causing the chains to clink slightly, the noise amplified by the stone walls.
Aramis looked around, Porthos had failed to keep quiet enough not to distract his friend. He wanted to tell him to keep at the door lock, but all he managed was a slurred, mumbled sentence that meant nothing.
The hobbling Musketeer walked back to him and pulled him up again, Porthos could tell Aramis was struggling. Hauling a fully-grown man into a semi-upright position whilst they were restrained by the ankles was not something that could be practised. Porthos could do nothing to help his friend and as his ability to speak seemed to have left him, all he could do was hope that the dizziness would leave him and his ability to communicate succinctly would return so that he could tell Aramis to leave him and concentrate on the lock.
Porthos had no idea how long Aramis managed to hold him up but he did not feel much better when his friend finally seemed to admit defeat and lowered him back down. Porthos mumbled his thanks but did not trust himself to manage a full sentence.
Aramis went back to the lock.
MMMM
Athos stared at the dog as it stared back at him. The big black dog looked strong. It snarled revealing its teeth.
Athos had been scared before, he had been scared before battles, he had been scared, in a different way, before his wedding. But the fear, the sheer horror he felt at that moment surpassed everything he had felt before. He could not imagine being more terrified.
There was nothing else apart from the dog and the memory of Gerard's dog grabbing his wrist and biting down whilst the second dog had stalked up to him ready to finish the job.
Athos could not move, he wanted to move, he wanted to get away from the snarling beast, but he could not make his feet work for him.
He just stood there staring at the dog as it stared back.
It was d'Artagnan that dealt with the dog and the handler. He was vaguely aware of his friend rushing forward with a cry of his own and slicing at the dog before taking on the handler that had appeared from the undergrowth. He was vaguely aware of a very brief clash of swords, not enough to draw attention to them. He was vaguely aware of d'Artagnan walking back to stand in front of him and saying something before hooking his hand around his arm and leading him away from the bodies of the man and the dog.
'Athos,' said d'Artagnan. 'Look at me.'
Athos finally managed to look up.
'Are you alright?'
Was he alright? He had been frozen in fear, as the last few minutes played over in his mind he looked away.
'Athos, it's alright.'
'It is not,' replied Athos. 'I should not have reacted like that.'
D'Artagnan had an indecisive look on his face. Athos could tell his friend did not know how to deal with him.
'I will be fine, I am sorry,' said Athos. 'I just… could not move. I do not think I have ever experienced that.'
'Fear?'
Athos looked back at d'Artagnan, 'I have been scared before. But I have never been rooted to the spot unable to channel that feeling into energy and use it to defend myself or attack the enemy… I just could not move.'
D'Artagnan pushed Athos to sit on the exposed tree root of one of the few big trees in the area. Athos allowed his young friend to do so.
'Athos,' said d'Artagnan talking to him as though he were a child. 'You were attacked by two dogs not that long ago. You could have been killed by them. It's not really surprising that being faced with another big dog that you reacted like that.'
Athos looked at d'Artagnan, trying to work out if he was being told off or comforted. He guessed he did not really deserve either. His reaction was unexpected to him but perhaps not unexpected to other people.
D'Artagnan moved to sit next to him, he did not say anything else, merely sat next to him, their shoulders touching. Athos realised he was glad of the proximity of his friend. He was usually more than happy to be alone with his thoughts, but at that moment he did not. He was worried he would become frozen a second time if the images of the dog biting his wrist surfaced again. He had not even realised he was rubbing at the wrist until d'Artagnan lay his own hand over Athos'.
'None of us know when something like this is going to happen. I know what you're thinking,' said d'Artagnan. 'You're worried this will happen again.'
'I should not be rendered useless by fear… I cannot let this cause issues in the future,' replied Athos.
D'Artagnan shook his head, 'it won't,' he said.
Athos wondered how the younger man could sound so sure.
'You've faced it now.'
'I froze, d'Artagnan. I stood there and did nothing. You dealt with the dog and the handler.'
'You dealt with the dog.'
Athos stared at him.
'You don't remember what you just did?'
Athos shook his head.
'You cried out and rushed forward as the dog ran at you. You cut it down. I had to get out of your way. I was about to run the dog through, but you were there.'
Athos looked away, the image of the dog falling to his sword became clear. He had been so worked up with the memories of the dogs that had attacked him that he could not remember dealing with the one right in front of him.
D'Artagnan stood up, offering his hand to Athos, pulling him up as well.
'I won't mention it to the others,' said d'Artagnan.
Athos nodded his thanks, 'then we need to liberate them so that you cannot mention it to them.'
D'Artagnan smiled, 'let's get on with that then.'
MMMM
Aramis lost count of the number of times he paused his work on the lock and returned to pull Porthos into at least a level position for a few minutes. His friend was clearly suffering from the inversion and the pain of being left hanging by his ankles. Aramis wished he could get the lock to open. He knew he was not far off.
After gently lowering Porthos back to the ground he limped back to the door, picking up the dagger again and going back to work. He paused listening intently.
'Wha…?' slurred Porthos.
'They're coming back,' Aramis said as he stepped back from the door, carefully sliding the dagger back into his boot ensuring it was far enough down so as not to be seen.
A key turned in the lock, Aramis sighed, he had been close to unlocking it, he would probably have to start again.
The door was pushed open. Gallo appeared with a couple of his thuggish men, the one who had lost an eye, and the one that had decided to kick Aramis when he had fallen before they were captured. The kicking man was of a big build and had managed to leave Aramis with a bruised side that he was not telling Porthos about.
The one-eyed man raised his gun, levelling it at Porthos. Aramis shook his head and slowly backed away. Gallo chuckled.
'I just wondered how you were getting on with the lock?'
Aramis and Porthos, who had managed to rouse himself enough to pay attention, tried not to react. Gallo held out his hand to Aramis as the one-eyed man moved closer to Porthos.
'Hand it over and I will let your friend down,' said Gallo as he stopped in front of Aramis.
'Just give it to him...he deserves it,' said Porthos, who had managed to push himself up slightly again.
Aramis glanced at Porthos, watched his hand sliding slowly towards the one-eyed man who had stopped a little too close to him. Aramis understood Porthos' intent and agreed with the idea. They had nothing to lose.
He slowly bent towards his boot, slipping his fingers in and easing the blade out. He made a point of wincing in pain as he did so. Gallo took the bait.
'Poor Musketeer with a poorly ankle. Not going to run away, again are you?'
With lightning speed Aramis struck, the momentary distraction caused by his gloating meant Gallo was not ready for the dagger to be used on him. Aramis considered what he and Porthos were trying to do to be obvious. But Gallo had underestimated them, he was not quick enough to step back and got to feel the full length of the narrow blade plunging into his stomach. It was not enough to stop the man from fighting back, Aramis knew it would take a while to have the desired effect, but it had caused confusion and shock around the room.
Porthos had somehow grabbed the one-eyed man and tripped him to the floor, his gun had slid away from both men. Aramis could not keep an eye on his friend, he had two attackers to deal with. The third man, the man that had kicked him, was trying to pull him away from Gallo.
Taking his weight on his injured ankle he kicked the man in the groin as hard as he could. The third man collapsed with a cry of pain. Aramis suspected he might be back before the fight was over with Gallo, but at least he was out of the way for the time being. Gallo was fighting dirty, trying to grab his own weapons whilst pushing and punching Aramis away. The man pushed Aramis back several paces forcing him into the stone wall. Aramis braced himself, using the wall for support. Gallo managed to pull his gun from his belt, but Aramis saw the move and twisted to the side, pinning the other man's right arm, preventing him from accessing the weapon. He hooked his bad ankle around Gallo toppling them both to the floor. Aramis landed on top of Gallo. He took the chance to punch the man several times, leaving him bloodied and stunned.
As he sat back up, he looked across to Porthos who was busy throttling the one-eyed man. Aramis was impressed but the surge of energy his friend was enjoying would not last, they needed to get out quickly.
His thoughts were interrupted by the big man he had kicked rushing at him. The man grabbed Aramis by the arm and dragged him up. Aramis could not get to his feet quick enough; he was shoved into the wall hard, smacking his head on the rough stone. He had no time to recover from the assault before the man was on him again. The big man was angry with Aramis and wanted the Musketeer to know it. He twisted Aramis around and shoved him backwards into the wall before punching him. The punch left Aramis dizzy, he realised the man had lifted him slightly off the ground, keeping him pinned to the wall with one meaty arm. The big man was taller than Aramis who was rapidly realising he would not win in a fistfight against him, not when he was already at a disadvantage. He grabbed at the man's wrist and tried kicking out, but the man tilted his head slightly and smirked. Aramis was not going to get away with kicking him again.
The force of the hand on his chest, just below his neck was leaving Aramis struggling to take a breath. The man pulled back his right hand ready to punch him again, Aramis fully expected to be knocked out by the action. He tried to look for Porthos, but the big man was blocking any view he had of his friend.
As the fisted hand began to move rapidly towards him, Aramis shut his eyes.
MMMM
Porthos was pleased that Aramis had understood his intention. He was confident his friend would be able to deal with the other two men, particularly after he felled the big man with a swift kick.
His own fight was a little harder. He was struggling to breathe and knew he would lose his energy quickly. The one-eyed man was taken by surprise by Porthos, he did not fight back for several seconds. Seconds that Porthos used wisely to grab at the man and move him, pulling him down to the ground. The position was awkward but once Porthos had wrapped his arm around the man's neck he steadfastly remained there. The man thrashed around, tried to claw at Porthos' face but the Musketeer was determined that he would do what he could to get them free. Ultimately their freedom relied on Aramis but Porthos was not beyond contributing.
As he slowly killed the man, a task he did not enjoy, he watched Aramis fighting off Gallo. The man would succumb to the stab wound but it would take him a while. Time which was spent fighting Aramis. The Musketeer was hindered by his injured ankle and no doubt other injuries from his earlier fall, but he managed to knock Gallo out.
Aramis paused for a second, glancing across to him, but his respite was short-lived. The brutish man that had taken pleasure in grabbing Aramis after his fall during their foiled escape attempt, was on him again. The man was probably a little annoyed at being kicked in the groin and clearly wanted to make Aramis pay for the assault. Porthos knew his friend would not win against the brute, not when he was already injured. The man managed to pin Aramis to the wall and punch him, leaving Aramis stunned, blinking and struggling to regain his focus. Porthos knew a second punch would at the very least knock Aramis out if it did not kill him.
He looked around, the gun that the one-eyed man had been brandishing lay a few inches away. He decided he had throttled the one-eyed man long enough, he let go of what he hoped was now a body and not a man who would come around with a headache and a vendetta. The one-eyed man slumped to the floor and did not move.
Porthos reached for the gun, it lay tantalisingly close, he clawed at the stone floor, finding a modicum of purchase, enough to swing him towards the gun. He grabbed it and twisted around. He knew the shot would be difficult and that he would only get one chance. Porthos' main concern was that he did not hit his friend.
He fired.
The shot hit the brute in the back at an angle, penetrating towards his shoulder. It was good enough. The man stumbled forward into Aramis who managed to remain on his feet as the man slumped to the side and collapsed in a heap taking a few gasped breaths before going still.
Aramis was breathing hard, staring at the man for a few seconds.
'Getting me down is the next thing,' said Porthos, who realised his knocked about friend needed to get his focus back.
Aramis looked at him and nodded.
'Yes,' he said, 'thanks.'
The Musketeer pushed himself off the wall and limped to the door of the cell, he peered out for a few seconds before disappearing from sight. Porthos watched as the chain that was holding him upside down moved a little, but not enough.
'I can't loosen it,' called Aramis from outside the cell. 'It's too stiff...that big thug was probably the one who tightened it up.'
Aramis reappeared, he looked around the room for a few seconds before hobbling to the body of Gallo. A pool of blood was forming under him where the wound to his stomach was. Ignoring the blood, Aramis knelt and rifled through the man's pockets, pulling out the key to the manacles.
Porthos watched with worry as Aramis stood back up, wavering and stumbling to the side as he did so.
'Aramis?'
It took his friend far too long to turn around to face him. Aramis was blinking, he reached up and felt the back of his head.
'Just give me the key,' said Porthos, worried his friend might pass out just out of his reach.
Aramis limped across to him. He reached up to the manacles and pushed the key into the lock. Porthos watched despite his own feelings of dizziness and disorientation returning. When Aramis crumpled to the floor, Porthos was ready, even from his inverted position he managed to guide the injured man down. Aramis remained sat on the floor, his eyes screwed shut.
Porthos looked back up at the key in the lock and knew what he had to do. Taking as much of a breath as he could, he slowly pulled himself up, clutching at his breeches. After a few seconds, he felt Aramis' hands on his shoulders steadying him, the help was welcome. He gradually pulled and dragged himself far enough to reach the key. Aramis had managed to get back to his feet, he grabbed Porthos around the shoulders and kept him still as he grabbed the chain just above the manacles. The help from Aramis was just enough for him to turn the key on the first manacle, before easing it from the lock and pushing it into the second. It annoyed him that it took him three tries. With his energy leaving him quickly he turned the key a second time.
The fall was only a couple of feet, and he had the luxury of landing on his friend, but it still left them both winded. Porthos managed to roll off Aramis who was lying on his back with his eyes shut but did not appear to be unconscious.
'We've still got to get out,' said Aramis with a wince.
'But at least the doors open now,' replied Porthos.
Aramis managed a pained chuckle.
Getting out of the room was the least of their problems.
MMMM