After taking out a few more guards d'Artagnan and Athos turned back towards their camp. D'Artagnan had been keeping an eye on his friend. Athos had been quiet since the dog encounter. The Musketeer seemed confused by his own perceived weakness. D'Artagnan had hoped he had made it clear that his friend had nothing to worry about. He was confident his friend would have no further problems with dogs. It was unusual to see the usually calm man so rattled by an incident. It just proved that Athos was, after all, just a man, which only elevated him further in d'Artagnan's eyes.

'I am fine,' muttered Athos with a sideways glance at him.

'Sorry,' said d'Artagnan.

'I can tell you are worrying about me and my problem with dogs.'

'No, I wasn't.'

Athos sighed, 'yes you were. You were worrying that I would be worrying that I would still have a problem.'

D'Artagnan took a moment to work out what Athos had just said before smiling.

'Yes, I was. And I guess that means you're not worrying about it anymore.'

Athos nodded.

'Now that that is settled,' said d'Artagnan, 'can we deal with our missing friends.'

Athos nodded again.

'I think we should head back to the camp and check the chateau again from that vantage point, get the lay of the land…and you never know, they might have escaped, captured Gerard and be waiting for us.'

D'Artagnan glanced at Athos who rolled his eyes.

'Wishful thinking,' muttered his friend.

They continued to pick their way through the rocks and scrubby bushes. D'Artagnan wondered how long it would be before Treville and reinforcements arrived. The chances were that he and Athos would not be able to liberate Aramis and Porthos on their own. They had managed to neutralise several men during the previous few hours, but they did not know how many men were in the Chateau. If Gerard and Gallo had amassed a small army d'Artagnan doubted he and Athos had made much of a dent in it.

MMMM

They knew they could not wait. It would not be long before Gallo and his favourite thugs were missed. Porthos had managed to get to his feet his eyes closed for several seconds. Aramis watched his friend, knowing that neither of them was really in any state to deal with what they were about to do. They had to get out of the house. There was no chance of them completing their mission. They could not abduct Gerard, not with both of them injured. Aramis knew he had been lucky if Porthos had not managed to shoot the brute that had been about to punch him he would probably have been lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Either very badly injured or dead.

Porthos opened his eyes and looked down at Aramis.

'You coming then?' asked the Musketeer.

Aramis managed a smile.

'If I must, I'm very comfortable here,' replied Aramis, enjoying the camaraderie.

Porthos held out his hand bracing himself ready to pull Aramis up. With a hiss of pain, echoed by Porthos, Aramis got to his feet. He gently put some weight on his injured ankle. He looked at Porthos and shrugged his shoulders.

'A fine pair of soldiers me make,' he said.

Porthos nodded, 'not sure how stealthy we're going to be.'

After checking the bodies of Gallo and his men both Musketeers hobbled to the door of the cell and looked out. When they had been brought into the cellar, they had been walked down a set of stone steps, the steps were to their right. Aramis watched Porthos slowly walk along the cellar corridor to the left checking the other doors as he went. They were all locked.

'No back way out,' said Porthos.

Aramis looked at the stairs, knowing they had no choice but to go out the way they had gone in - through the main hallway.

'I don't think I've ever been intimidated by a stairway before', said Porthos.

They looked at the stone steps, rising in front of them.

'After you,' said Porthos.

Aramis smirked, 'worried I'll laugh at your less than elegant ascent?'

'Something like that.'

Aramis knew his friend wanted him to climb the steps first because he was worried. In truth, Aramis was a little worried himself. He could just about take some weight on his injured leg, but it was going to be a painful experience getting up the steps. He took a breath, steadied himself and started to climb. Under normal circumstances, they would not have made a sound. But this time neither of them could help the odd hiss or muttered curse. Aramis was glad there was a door at the top of the stairs to hide the noises they were making.

The top step was reached with a collective sigh from both men. Aramis felt Porthos' hand on the small of his back, he wondered if his friend had been there all the time. It was true that Porthos was not as badly injured, but Aramis was sure the man was suffering.

Aramis glanced back at Porthos as he pulled a stolen dagger from his belt. Aramis had taken a gun from Gallo but knew it could only be used as a last resort.

With them, both as ready as they could be Aramis eased the door open. There was no tell-tale creak, the door swung open silently. He peered out, his gaze sweeping along the short corridor.

Another door led to the hall. Along the corridor were a few other rooms, a couple of cupboards lined the walls between the doors. The cupboards were deep, they could be used to hide behind if necessary. He wondered if the servant's quarters actually had any servants in it or if Gerard only had the small army of Spanish men living in his chateau ready for the coup.

He stepped out into the corridor, Porthos stopped beside him.

'I'm not going to be running anywhere', said Porthos

'Neither will I,' agreed Aramis

He limped forward a few paces. The door he passed was ajar, he paused and glanced inside, it was empty. They moved on, Porthos tried the handle on the next door.

'Locked,' Porthos said before hobbling onwards.

They had reached the last room before they had no choice but to go through the door leading to the hall. The last door was pulled open as they reached it.

The two Musketeers stared at the occupant of the room. Elisabeth stared back.

The three of them reacted at the same time. Elizabeth opened her mouth to shout or scream, both Musketeers moved forward. Porthos smothered her mouth, muffling the scream. Elizabeth immediately struggling, she kicked out, her booted foot caught Aramis on the injured leg sending waves of pain through him as he put more pressure on his ankle. He stumbled back and fell to the floor.

Aramis willed the searing pain to go away, he was aware of Porthos struggling with the woman. He knew they would never live it down if the rest of the garrison found out that they had struggled to subdue a woman. Aramis managed to look back as he scrambled to his feet, using the wall for support. Porthos was trying not to shout at the woman who was biting the hand that was covering her mouth. She was clawing at Porthos arms and face in her attempt to get free of him. Porthos had several nasty looking scratches on his forearm and the side of his face.

'Open the door,' Porthos managed to say with a nod to the nearest cupboard.

Aramis understood and managed to get to the cupboard as Porthos swung the struggling, wriggling woman around. He pulled the door open. The cupboard was filled with sheets and cloths. He pulled the piled-up linen out of the cupboard, throwing it on the floor. As Porthos tried to manipulate Elizabeth into the cupboard she kicked out again knocking the door shut. Aramis grabbed one of the sheets and unfolded it, he threw it over the woman, pinning her legs together. Porthos managed to push the woman to the ground and hold her there. Once they were both off their injured ankles the Musketeers could work more efficiently. Aramis folded up one of the cloths and used it as a gag. Elizabeth shouted through the gag, but the sound was muffled enough that it did not carry. Next, they managed to wind the sheets around her, until she was practically covered in them. After firmly tying Elizabeth up Aramis opened the cupboard again. Porthos picked her up and shoved her unceremoniously into the cupboard firmly closing the door behind her. Aramis turned the small key.

They both stared at the door for a few seconds listening to Elizabeth's continued muffled shouts.

'She'll be found soon enough,' remarked Porthos.

'I would not want to be here when that door is opened again,' said Aramis.

MMMM

Trying to decide what their next move would be was not easy. They had a mission, it was simple. Arrest Gerard. However, the execution of that simple mission had been thrown into disarray. Aramis and Porthos had been captured and they had no idea what was happening in the Chateau.

'Do we go in there after Gerard ourselves?' asked d'Artagnan, the question as much to himself as to Athos.

Athos glanced at his friend, 'I do not think we have a choice,' he said. 'Gerard needs to be arrested.'

'And what about Aramis and Porthos?'

'You know that Gerard is our mission…and you know we will do all that we can to recover them.'

D'Artagnan smiled grimly and nodded, 'I know.'

If there was even the smallest of chances of freeing their friends Athos was determined they would take it. They would take the chance, even if it meant not capturing Gerard, although Athos also knew they would be berated by their friends if that were to happen.

They silently edged up to the rocky area where they could see the chateau. Peering over the edge they looked down on the Baron's chateau the two Musketeers took in the scene in front of them. Several men were leading horses to the front of the house. Other men were trailing out of the house carrying weapons and chests towards a couple of carts. More carts were being brought around from the rear of the house. It was obvious that the small army that had been assembled had been depleted by their activities in the grounds around the Chateau. The activity was not frenetic, but organised and methodical. Athos guessed the next phase of the planned coup was starting regardless of the upset the Musketeers had managed to bring. Gerard was standing at the top of the steps with the blonde woman who looked very angry. She was remonstrating with him about something before walking back into the chateau.

'Wonder what's annoyed her?' said d'Artagnan.

'I think we have seen enough,' said Athos. 'We will have to try to take Gerard before they leave. Once we have secured him, we can look for Porthos and Aramis.'

They quietly moved away from the edge of their observation point and turned back towards their secluded camp. Athos wondered what state his friends would be in. Were they even alive? Gerard and the Spaniards probably had no reason to keep the captured men alive.

'I do not think we need to rush,' said Athos, 'they appear to be packing up the whole house.'

'Yes,' mused d'Artagnan, 'the activity may help us, they will be distracted. But the patrols we dealt with will be missed soon enough.'

'We can try to circle – '

Athos stopped, d'Artagnan, who had been walking close behind him bumped into the back of him.

'What?'

As d'Artagnan looked over Athos' shoulder he gasped.

'Were you plannin' on rescuing us?' asked Porthos.

Athos found that he was lost for words. Porthos and Aramis were sitting in the centre of the camp. Both men looked dishevelled, both were covered in bruises, cuts and grazes and they had both taken their boots off. Porthos was busy helping Aramis to shrug out of his doublet.

'How did you? When did you?'

Athos was pleased that d'Artagnan was struggling to work out what had happened as well.

'I take it you know we were recognised?' asked Aramis.

'Yes,' said d'Artagnan. 'We saw the woman and I remembered her being there when the building was blown up.'

'I think,' said Athos, 'that we need to start at the beginning. You two obviously have injuries that need dealing with. We can patch you up as we debrief.'

As they talked through what had happened to them each, they slowly built up a picture of what was happening in the Chateau. Aramis and Porthos had not had much of a chance to take in their surroundings. They had been trying to escape for the whole time they were within the walls of the impressive building. They had seen that there were fewer men than they had originally thought. After some rough calculations, Athos concluded that the men they had observed loading the carts were probably the only ones left.

Porthos hissed in pain as d'Artagnan wrapped bandages around his ankles.

'We probably have not helped ourselves by continuing to move about,' mused Aramis as he washed and dressed the grazes on his arms.

Athos held his friend steady as he pulled his boots back on, Aramis screwed his eyes shut as he rode out the pain he had caused himself.

'She managed to scratch you pretty badly,' said d'Artagnan as he dabbed at the deep scratches on Porthos' cheek.

'Yeah,' agreed Porthos, 'it was not our finest hour.'

'I'm glad she's the only one we had to deal with,' said Aramis.

Athos agreed, his friends had been lucky. The blonde woman had caused them a few issues, but otherwise, their escape had been unremarkable.

'Gerard has put himself in charge,' said Porthos, 'with Gallo dead the rest of the men are looking to him to lead. Although I can't think why.'

'Because they probably don't know the whole plan,' suggested Aramis.

'They have been hired by Gallo and Gerard.'

'The woman knows the plan,' said d'Artagnan. 'She probably wanted to take over, but... well... she's a woman.'

'And young,' pointed out Porthos.

Athos wondered what the next part of the plan was for the Spaniards. He also wondered what they were going to do next. Neither Aramis nor Porthos would be capable of fighting. Aramis could not walk without help and Porthos was not much better off.

'We're not going to be much help,' said Porthos, who had come to the same conclusion.

D'Artagnan rose to his feet and looked back towards the chateau.

'I'll have a look; see how they're getting on.'

The young Musketeer wandered off.

Aramis started to tidy his medical bag away, managing to gather the assorted unused cloths and salves together without moving from where he was sat on the ground. Porthos threw a few of the bits across to him, Aramis easily caught the items with one hand.

'What you smiling at?' asked Porthos who had noticed Athos observing them.

'I think,' said Athos, 'that you two can be of use after all.'

'How? Neither of us can stand up without help.'

Aramis nodded his agreement to Porthos' words.

'You don't need to stand,' said Athos. 'The hardest part will be getting you to where you need to be.'

Both injured Musketeers looked puzzled.

MMMM

Porthos watched Athos and d'Artagnan disappear back along the narrow, rocky path that led into and out of the fortress-like hideaway.

'They had to watch us going off alone a few hours ago,' pointed out Aramis.

'Never easy,' mused Porthos.

They had been helped into the hidden natural fortress several minutes before. Aramis had a makeshift crutch lying beside him as he sorted through the guns and ammunition. The injured Musketeer had needed a few minutes to recover from the uncomfortable walk from their camp. D'Artagnan had remained by Aramis' side until Aramis had waved him off.

Athos had explained that when they had been picking off the patrols, they had stumbled across the closed off rocky formation by accident. They had been forced to retrace their steps but only after they had noted that the end of the path overlooked the lawn of the chateau, close enough for a well-aimed gun to reach its target. And when those guns were aimed by Musketeers the chances were even greater that they would reach their targets. Neither injured soldier would have to move about much, and their firing point would be difficult for any of Gerard's men to reach without being noticed.

Once settled they had bid Athos and d'Artagnan farewell and watched them disappear to make their own assault on the chateau. They had a good view of the front door of the chateau and the lawn. Gerard's home may have been away from the city and well hidden from all but the most curious of passers-by, but it was also easy to get close to unobserved. Their hiding place would not be secret for long, as soon as they started firing, they would be spotted but it would be difficult for the Spaniards to fire back with any hope of hitting them. Any retaliation would have to be made in close combat and anyone that attempted to approach their position could be picked off easily.

The plan only worked because they knew there were not many men left. The small army, smaller than they had first thought had been depleted by Athos and d'Artagnan in their stealth attacks and to a lesser extent by Aramis and Porthos during their brief spell as captives. The real leader of the gang, Gallo, would probably have been able to rally his dwindling army more efficiently than Gerard. But Gallo was not there to do that anymore.

Porthos watched Aramis pushing a few loose rocks aside and shifting about a little to find the most comfortable position to fire from. If they were in a battle they would have been armed with muskets, but they had to make do with their pistols and a closer firing point. Aramis was used to lying in wait. Porthos was not, he looked at the sharp rocks that covered the area.

'Not ideal,' said Aramis who had noticed Porthos' dilemma. 'Use your cloak, fold it over a few times and lay it over the worst of the rocks.'

Porthos rolled his eyes, 'I think I could have worked that out for myself.'

Aramis smirked, 'I'm sure you would have done eventually, but we need to be ready in minutes – '

'I'll take your walking stick and abandon you,' suggested Porthos with a smile of his own.

'Doubt you'd get very far,' muttered Aramis as he rechecked his guns were exactly where he wanted them.

Pre-battle banter was always his favourite. Insults and jokes were necessary before they settled to the seriousness of what they were about to do.

'They're on the edge of the lawn,' said Aramis. 'Ready?'

'Always.'

They both took a few deep breaths and sighted along the barrels of their guns. No discussion was needed, they had fought together long enough to instinctively know which of them would aim at which enemy opponent.

The Spaniards were still busy packing up the carts. There were about twenty men, including Gerard who was giving orders and generally trying to look as though he was a natural leader. The men were all armed but did not look particularly alert, engrossed in their job of packing for the battles they expected to wage in Paris. The men were not expecting to engage in a battle at that moment.

That was about to change.

Two shots rang out. Two men fell.

The remaining men were quick to react all eyes were on Athos and d'Artagnan who were walking purposefully across the lawn separating as they moved. The Spaniards did the same. Swords were drawn, Gerard shouted an order to kill the two Musketeers before drawing his own sword and moving forward.

Five men engaged the two Musketeers. Athos took on two while d'Artagnan was unlucky to have three men head in his direction. Aramis evened the odds.

As soon as Aramis had fired a couple of the men who were standing back looked in their direction. One man, a swarthy looking older man pulled his gun from his belt. Porthos shot him before he had a chance to check it was primed. Porthos paused to reload, watching the other man that was trying to work out exactly where they were. Aramis concentrated on watching Athos and d'Artagnan. Porthos heard him fire again, another man would play no further part in the plot.

The other man that was looking for their hiding spot appeared to have found them, he raised his gun and pulled the trigger. A rock splintered a couple of yards to Porthos' left. Neither Musketeer flinched.

Porthos fired a second time, a second time his aim was true.

'Six down,' said Porthos with a smile.

'Eight,' corrected Aramis.

Porthos glanced towards d'Artagnan and Athos who had both dealt with a man each as more men moved forward to fill the gap.

With no one else trying to reach their firing position, Porthos went back to keeping the men from overwhelming Athos and d'Artagnan. He fired at one of the men who was trying to get around Athos. The shot was not perfect, but it would see the man out of the rest of the skirmish. At the same instance, one of the men Athos was engaged in a swordfight with made a fatal mistake and became the tenth enemy soldier to be taken out of the battle.

Aramis fired off his two guns in quick succession pushing the odds even further in their favour.

'I've lost a couple of them,' said Porthos as he scanned the men and the bodies.

Rocks crashing against each other caused the two men to twist around. The two missing Spaniards had found their way into the rocky fortress. One had an evil sneer; he raised and fired his gun without pause. Both Musketeers threw themselves out of the way. The ball hit the rocks in between them. Porthos used the momentum he had gained getting out of the way of the shot to turn completely whipping his gun around and firing at the same time. The sneering man stared at him, his eyes suddenly vacant before he toppled forward, landing heavily on the rocks at their feet.

The second man rushed forward, he was not carrying a gun, only a dagger, held aloft in his hand. Aramis barely had time to react before the man was on him, grappling with the dagger, trying to push the blade into the Musketeer's chest. Porthos pushed himself up, willed the pain in his ankles away and surged forward knocking the man off Aramis who could not help a cry of pain as his own injuries were agitated. Porthos tumbled to the ground, he did not worry about the dagger, he landed with the man under him. Before the enemy had a chance to wield the dagger Porthos had punched him across the jaw, the man's head smacked into a jagged rock beneath them. The effect was instant, the man went limp, the dagger falling harmlessly to the ground.

'Porthos?'

Porthos took a couple of breaths before he managed to respond, 'yes?'

'Thanks,' said Aramis.

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds before rallying and retaking their previous positions. As they took in the scene, they realised Athos and d'Artagnan had been busy. Only three men were left.

D'Artagnan was soundly beating two of them into submission. A few yards further across the lawn Gerard was squaring up to Athos.

MMMM

Authors note: Thanks for the comments/favourites/follows