Chapter 3
Athos shoved back against the man who'd been body blocking him as the mob dragged Agnes away, outrage urging him to draw his weapons and unleash violence upon these uncouth men. But the code of chivalry stayed his hand; he would not cut down unarmed peasants.
He knew it was the same reason none of the others had drawn their swords or pistols as well, though they were spitting with fury, roughly shoving at the ones pushing them.
With the mob retreating quickly, those ruffians who'd lingered behind to hinder the musketeers now turned and ran to catch up. Athos watched them go. Pursuit would do them no good, as they were far outnumbered.
"We can't allow the village to do this," d'Artagnan exclaimed.
"We need the dragons," Athos replied, pivoting on his heel to head back to Agnes's hut. Hopefully the dragons had finished their hunt by now. "They should frighten the villagers enough for us to grab Agnes and leave."
"And what, take her back to Paris?" Aramis said, falling into stride beside him. "So she can be executed there instead?"
Athos bit back a surge of frustration; he'd thought the argument closed. "She will have a trial."
"And we know what will happen. It will be the priests' testimony against hers and who do you think the Cardinal will believe?" Aramis shook his head. "Even if he doesn't, he will sentence her to death simply to make an example of her."
"Our orders—"
"Our orders are wrong!" Aramis swept in front of Athos, blocking his path. "Agnes stayed to help these people despite the threat she's been under. She should not be punished for doing the right thing."
"And if we defy the Cardinal, it will be our heads on the chopping block!"
Aramis drew his shoulders back. "Not if no one knows we helped her escape."
Athos shot him a wry look. "And how do you plan to do that?"
"I have an idea…but we'll have to hurry." He glanced at Porthos. "I know you doubt her, and I won't ask you to be party to this if you don't want to."
Porthos harrumphed. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on you two. Especially if this idea of yers is on the crazy side."
Aramis's mien cracked with a grin.
Athos shook his head in resignation. Of course it was going to be crazy.
.o.0.o.
Explaining the plan had taken precious time they could not afford, but everyone needed to be clear on their part if they were to succeed, including the dragons. Then they flew with all haste toward the village. The stake and piled kindling was easy to spot from the air, and Agnes was already tied to it as men with lit torches moved in. Aramis's breath caught in his throat; this was not justice or God's will.
The dragons swooped down, belting out raucous screeches. The peasants flinched and scrambled backward. Rhaego opened his maw wide and belched out a stream of fire that scorched across the grass between the stake and the crowd, effectively creating a barrier between Agnes and her executioners. The russet dragon angled around behind the wall of flames and low enough for Aramis to leap from the saddle, rolling as he hit the ground to absorb some of the impact. Behind him, Porthos dropped to the earth as well, and their dragons veered back up into the sky. Savron had landed with Athos and d'Artagnan on the other side of the flames to face down the villagers, and hopefully the peasants were too distracted to notice Aramis and Porthos darting for Agnes.
"You are ordered to disperse, in the name of the King!" Athos roared.
"Heathens!" one of the priests railed. "They are in league with the witch!"
"We will take her to the Cardinal," Athos shouted back. "You dare to defy his orders?"
Aramis sprinted across the ground and leaped over the kindling to reach Agnes. He coughed as smoke from the flames blew their direction, but at least it was obscuring visibility and aiding their purpose.
Agnes was lashed to the wooden stake, pallor ashen with terror. Aramis drew his gauche and cut her free. She staggered forward against him, trembling fingers clutching at his shoulder. He tried to brace her with one arm while keeping his other free.
"Sorry about this," he said before bending down and cutting a strip of fabric from the bottom of her skirts.
"Wh-?"
He stuffed the cloth between some twigs of the kindling and then swung Agnes around toward Porthos, who helped her climb over the bundles. Glancing at the wall of fire and smoke to make sure their path was concealed, they then made a dash for the cover of some trees. Athos's voice was still carrying over the din, and it was clear he would never be able to reason with these people.
At the edge of the copse, Aramis ducked behind some brush, ushering Agnes to take cover behind him and Porthos.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"We have to make a good show of it," he replied.
"Of what?"
He flashed her a sheepish look. "Killing you."
Her eyes widened, but before she could say anything more, roars sounded from above where Rhaego and Vrita had been circling. The two dragons now dove toward the ground, spewing geysers of fire at the stacked wood and lighting it with a whoosh and roar of its own.
"No, stop!" Athos's voice rang out.
The dragons banked away, but it was too late; the stake was alight in one massive bonfire that Aramis could feel the heat of from where they were hidden.
"Even the beasts know the witch must burn!" Father Duval shouted.
Aramis wanted to punch the man in the face.
He turned to Agnes. "You'll have to go far away from here, start over," he said gravely. "But at least you shouldn't be hunted."
Her expression was grim but she nodded.
Aramis returned his attention to the spectacle. He heard Agnes say something in a low tone that he didn't quite catch, but before he could turn back, an explosion suddenly ripped from the bonfire stake, shooting a mushroom cloud of flames and black smoke high into the air. The force buffeted Aramis with a belching wave of heat and flattened the gathered peasants.
Aramis shot a bewildered look at Porthos. "What the hell was that?"
Porthos looked equally stunned, and they both whipped concerned gazes toward where Athos and d'Artagnan had been. The wall of fire had been extinguished in the burst of air and Aramis caught sight of them getting to their feet, shielded by Savron.
He turned to Agnes. "Go with Porthos."
Then he broke cover and ran to join his friends, reaching them just as the peasants began to recover from the shock of the explosion.
Father Duval raised a shaky hand toward the bonfire. "See! See the Lord's condemnation of the witch!"
Aramis rolled his eyes and grabbed Athos's shoulder. "Are you two all right?" he asked urgently, giving them swift once-overs.
They both nodded.
"You weren't supposed to add incendie," Athos chastised under his breath.
"We didn't."
Athos straightened with a frown and turned toward the blaze. There was no purple haze to the flames to denote the presence of an alchemical accelerant, nor had Aramis even used gunpowder to make that bang.
Wordlessly, the two musketeers moved forward, pulling out some refroidi crystals from their pouches and tossing them on the fire to extinguish the flames. There was barely anything left of the wooden stake but a stump of char that was crumbling into chaff.
Murmurs began to go up through the gathered crowd of peasants, including hushed voices asking if the witch escaped. Aramis had anticipated that, though. He knelt in the ashes, his back to the people, and pulled one last prop from his pouch to sell the act.
Standing, he turned with palm open to display three finger bones. "This is all that's left," he said, pushing hardness into his tone.
The priests drew closer, eyes widening at the discovery.
"The witch is dead!" Duval declared.
Aramis took a step forward and Athos threw an arm across his chest.
"Let's go."
Aramis glowered at the villagers as he, Athos, d'Artagnan, and Savron began to leave. Rhaego and Vrita had already flown off.
"I can't believe that worked," d'Artagnan said once they were far enough away.
Aramis shot him a look of mock affront. "You doubted me?"
"I doubted it would work."
"The bones were a nice touch," Athos commented mildly.
D'Artagnan made a noise in his throat. "You still don't find the fact that she had those things lying around disturbing?"
Aramis shrugged. "I call it…Providence."
They continued their walk away from the village, past the restored fields, and to the rendezvous point where they found Porthos and Agnes waiting with Rhaego and Vrita.
"Thank you," she said. "You saved my life."
Aramis gave her a small smile laced with regret. "This does mean you can't go home, not even to retrieve your things. Everyone thinks you're dead and it has to stay that way."
She nodded in sad understanding. "I'm used to starting over."
"Where will you go?" Athos asked.
"South, I think. Perhaps Spain. Or Italy. That sounds like an interesting place to visit."
Aramis reached into his coin purse and offered her a few.
"Oh, no…" she protested.
Athos and d'Artagnan immediately did the same, followed by Porthos.
"You'll need it," Aramis insisted.
She looked around reluctantly at the four of them before finally dipping her head in humble gratitude. "Thank you. I hope you won't find trouble for what you did here today."
"As far as anyone knows and will tell the Cardinal, you are dead," Athos replied.
Agnes nodded again, hesitated for a moment, and then turned to start walking away.
Porthos turned to the rest of them. "What'd you two do to the fire?" he asked Athos and d'Artagnan. "You nearly blew everyone up."
"It wasn't us," Athos said.
"Did you swing back for another burst?" Aramis asked his dragon, though he hadn't seen that happen.
Rhaego gave a short head shake.
Porthos's brow furrowed, and he turned toward Agnes. "Hey!" he called.
She paused at the tree line and looked back.
"Are you really a witch?" he asked.
Agnes's lips curved into a sly smile. "I'm just a student of the universe," she called back. "In all its facets."
D'Artagnan frowned. "That's not an answer."
Her smile quirked and she turned away again, slipping behind a tree and disappearing from view a moment later.
Aramis arched his brows at the others. "Well, that's…interesting."
"Are we really supposed to believe she did that?" d'Artagnan said dubiously.
"The crops did recover remarkably fast," Aramis put in.
Porthos looked unsettled but then shook it off. "Nah. That was science, like she said. An' the explosion was jus' an accident. Some powder or somethin' under the wood." He shot a pleading look at Vrita. "You'd tell me if she was a witch, right?"
His green dragon merely rolled her eyes skyward.
Aramis's mouth twitched, and he crossed his arms as he looked at Athos, their resident skeptic. "What do you think?"
Athos didn't respond for a long moment. "I think…" he finally said, "I want a drink."
Aramis laughed. All was right with the world, then.
And as for the question of magic, well…the universe was full of strange and wondrous mysteries.
NEXT TIME
D'Artagnan accompanies the Musketeer Guard on a hunt with the King, but when a group of assassins assails them, they become the hunted.