Just a short note: As I put in a review to my story earlier in the week, I do not write slash, just the love and care of each Musketeer has for the others, a true brotherhood.
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It wasn't until the next morning at muster that Athos, Porthos and Aramis noticed that d'Artagnan was absent. They had figured that the evening before when he had been invited to stay for dinner at the Bonacieux home. that he had stayed afterwards to visit and come back late.
A few moments after they noticed and exchanged concerned glances among themselves, Treville descended the stairs from his office. He no sooner stood in front of his line of men than his eyes sought out the Inseparables in a silent question.
Athos responded for all of them, shaking his head that they didn't know where their missing brother was.
Treville handed out assignments to everyone except them, dismissed his men, and took them aside and up to his office.
"You don't have any idea as to his wherabouts?" he asked as soon as the office door closed behind them.
Athos again spoke for all of them. "We has assumed that he stayed at the Bonaieux house to dinner and returned a little late."
"You do not have any dea where he could be then?"
"No, sir," they all responded, almost as one.
"Your duty, all three of you, is to find him. Dismissed."
Just the abruptness of his speech told them how concerned Treville was, and that he was trying to hide his worry.
[ Heading back down the stairs, Porthos said, "Where do we look first?"
"I believe a visit to Madame Madame Bonacieux is on order first, and see if perhaps he had mentioned to her something he needed to do," Athos said, although from the way in which he spoke, it was clear that he didn't hold out much hope of their learning any more from her.
All three of them had a bad feeling but didn't voice them aloud as they headed out of the garrison gates that morning.
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D'Artagnan awoke almost a day later to a massive headache. When he opened his eyes at first, everything was a white blur. Dazedly, he tried to remember his last waking moment, but wasn't cognizant enough yet to think straight.
Attemting to lift his head up brought an increase of the pain in his head, and his world darkened again.
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As they had suspected, Constance didn't have any information that could help them locate their missing brother. What the visit did do, however, was cause her to begin to worry about what might have happened to him on the way back to the garrison the previous night.
"Constance," Aramis began, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure this will prove to be just a case of forgetting to tell us or you about an errand he needed to take care of," not relieving believing what he was telling her, but not wanting her to be wracked with worry.
She looked at him doubtfully.
"We will find him, " he continued. "It may just be nothing he wants to talk about, a family member or something of that nature," lightly squeezing her shoulder as he spoke.
They left the Bonacieux home. Even though they hadn't really thought she would have anything to contribute to their search, Constance's worry had heightened they own.
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They began the rounds of taverns they frequented, even though it was early in the day, figuring it wouldn't hurt to talk to the owners and barkeepers, who were often one and the same person. They also questioned the barmaids during the quiet hours when not nearly as many patrons were present in the taverns.
By late afternoon, they were once again disappointed that no one working at any of the taverns had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary the night before. Some of the owners were also reticent to speak with them at all about their customers, afraid to lose business. But the ones who did all said they had seen no one fitting d'Artagnan's description in their establishments, except for when he had come in with them.
They also planned to come back later when these taverns were bustling and crowded with patrons, this time to mingle with the men drinking and card-playing to see if any of them had anything to contribute.
They headed back to the garrison for dinner, hoping against hope that d'Artagnan's smiling face would be there to greet them. But there was no sign of him.
Where was he, and what had happened to him?
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D'Artagnan slowly came back to consciousness again, the violent headache still present. He was more lucid this time, though.
Lying still for a few minutes, he waited for his vision to clear. Looking around, he saw that he was in some kind of cell. It looked ancient, and as if it had been unused for a very long time.
Not understanding why his body seemed rather numb, he tried to lift himself up to see more, and that's when he discovered he was bound hand and foot. Now that he was fully ocnscious, he also found that he was tightly gagged, as well. Why, he wondered. I'm already locked in a cell.
Who took me, he asked himself as he attempted to wriggle his hands in an effort to loosen the ropes around them. They must have been tied by an expert, he dejectedly thought, when he hadn't managed any leeway at all after quite some time trying.
He next tried to get the gag loose by rubbing it against the floor, only to hear a deep voice warn him, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Musketeer."
Twisting his head with difficulty towards the door, as he had been lying facing the back wall of the cell, he made out a large bear of a man leaning against the bars. All he could really see was the shape of him in the dim light.
"You don't really want to know what we will use on you next to keep you quiet. We can be quite inventive."
Who was he? What did he want with him, he asked himself.
Unlocking the cell door, the man strolled over towards d'Artagnan, stopping a few feet away. The Gascon froze when he looked up at the man. His head was covered by a hood, and d'Artagnan suddenly knew exactly why they had taken him.
Bait!
They were going to force Aramis to come to them, since they probably had not been able to find a way to penetrate the Garrison security.
They would demand that Aramis come unarmed and hand himself over, or they would kill his brother. D'Artagnan was sick at the thought, as he knew his beloved brother well, and that is exactly what he would do-give his life for his brother.
I have to find a way out of this, he thought desperately to himself. I couldn't live with myself if I caused Aramis' death.
So distracted were his thoughts, tha he didn't hear the man talking to him as he untied the gag.
"...so easy to nab, too. Got your mind all filled with that pretty young woman you had just left, I'll bet. I probably would be too...real nice, she was."
"You keep away from her!" d'Artagnan yelled, struggling anew with his bound hands.
The man just laughed. "Or what! I'm shaking with fear! You're forgetting where you are. I could step on you like a bug right now. Slice your throat, and no one would ever find you down here." Leaning down until d'Artagnan could feel his rancid breath on his face, the man continued. "You are merchandise and nothing more. You wll buy us what we need, then we make sure no one ever finds either one of you after we're through with him. Our benefactor did say, though, that he plans on taking his time with him, so you are going to become intimately acquainted with that floor you're laying on before your life comes to an end."
"What do you want with him? He is the kindest..."
The rest of his words were cut off as the man tied the gag back in place.
"We don't care if he is the nicest man ever born, a saint. We are being extremely well-paid for our work by someone who wants him really bad. I wouldn't want to be your friend when our benefactor gets him in his clutches."
Turning to leave, he stopped and looked back and down at his captive. "You better hope he turns himself over quick too, or we will need to use more persuasion, and you are our means of forcing him to be compliant. Guess what we're going to do to persuade him?" an evil chuckle sending a chill down d'Artagnan's spine as he heard it.
"We don't really need to gag you either," he said as he closed and locked the cell door again. "Our benefactor went out of his way to find men who just enjoy tormenting people. No one would be able to hear you anyway. This part of the Chatelet has been bricked off for a century or more. You're it's only tenant," he said, laughing again as he disappeared down the hallway.
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It had been three days since d'Artagnan had disappeared. Athos, Porthos and Aramis continued to have no luck as they checked out every possible place they could think of to find him. They fell into their beds exhausted each night, only to not be able to sleep as their minds tried to think of anywhere else they could try.
On the morning of the fourth day, a young lad of seven or eight came to the garrison gates, saying he was bringing a message for the Inseparables. He stumbled over the word, which was strange to him, the guards wondering how he even would know it to begin with.
One of the men ran and got Athos, who was eating breakfast with Porthos and Aramis. Heading for the gate, they were surprised to see that the message bearer was so young.
"I hear that you have brought me something?" he asked, smiling at the boy to calm his obvious nervousness standing in front of three men so heavily armed.
"Yes, monsieur," he replied, handing Athos the note he had in his hand.
Opening the paper, Athos' smile instantly disappeared. "Who told you to give this to me?" he said sharply.
The boy's face went from nervous to outright fear at the tone.
Seeing this, Aramis knelt down and said, "We can't find our friend, and it has made us upset. Athos is not mad at you, I promise," taking a small coin from his pocket and handing it the lad.
The boy started to turn around and leave, when Athos said, much more softly than before, "Do you know the man who asked you to bring this to me?"
The boy shook his head. "He jus' come up 'n ask me. Tol' me where you be. Made me say In..In..you know, til I done it right. Give me a coin, jus' like this one," holding up Aramis' coin.
Athos bent down and put another coin in the boy's hand, the lad's eyes now as wide as saucers, probably never having even seen that much money before. He doffed his cap, turned around and ran off through the gates.
Aramis and Porthos were impatient to learn about the contents of the note. Athos slowly said, "The hooded men have d'Artagnan."