The Musketeers had taken out at least nine of the men between them, and their opponents were slowly thinning out. The fighting was still quite fierce, Mattieu having hired men with very good skills.
Athos, fighting against two men, threw a nasty punch at one of them, the other got the receiving end of his main gauche. Both men went down, and he took a hasty look around before more of them reached him. What he saw was two men heading down the hallway. 'Aramis!' he thought. 'And Jehanne!' But before he was able to follow after and engage them, he had two new opponents coming at to dispatch them and go to his brother, they proved his most worthy opponents so far, and kept him focused on them.
While fighting, he raised his voice and called, "Porthos! D'Artagnan! Aramis has trouble headed for him!" hoping that one of the three of them could win free and head back that way. He also hoped the men who had gone down that hallway would come across nothing that could give them a clue that anyone was concealed in another cellar.
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Aramis, now without any means to defend himself and Jehanne, watched Mattieu come down the stairs, his face smug, looking at his victim lying on the bed with no way of fending him off.
Jehanne, seeing the man's focus on Aramis and finding her voice again, pleaded, "Please, whoever you are, have mercy! He is badly injured. We have done nothing to you. Please, just go!"
Mattieu, his gaze never leaving Aramis, didn't even bother to respond, seeing in her only a mere woman who couldn't fight or impede his intentions. He reached the end of the steps and moved swiftly across the room to the bed.
Aramis couldn't help the fear he felt again as this man, who had nearly killed him before, once more loomed above him. He remained silent, knowing from painful experience that words would make no progress in halting the man's intentions. But he would fight him however he was able, hoping he could somehow kick or hit him and maybe have luck shine on him in the attempt.
Mattieu was the type of man who immensely enjoyed being the bully he was. His body was close to the size of Porthos and he used it to intimidate, just as his words did.
"Time to return you to the pit your friends stole you from. You won't last long now, your body is too weak and battered to stand up to my 'visits' for very long. Your brothers won't be rescuing you again. They are being overwhelmed with sheer numbers by my men. Let's go!" bending over to grab him and pull him up.
Aramis kicked out with his legs, landing a hit to Mattieu's stomach, but it was like a fly buzzing around a bull. Mattieu barely reflected any notice of the kick, laughing it the Musketeer when Aramis desperately tried to hit him with his fist, Mattieu swung his own at Aramis' head. The fist connected with Aramis' forehead and all the fight went out of him, now only-semiconscious.
Jehanne screamed then at the cruelty of the unknown man, again begging him for mercy. He still paid no attention to her, his respect for women non-existent.
Mattieu swung the Musketeer roughly over his shoulder, turning again to the stairs. Aramis' upper body hung limply over Mattieu's shoulder, bouncing as the man began to climb the steps. Reaching the upper landing, he slammed the door shut on Jehanne's piteous screams.
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The Musketeers had finally triumphed over the seeming horde of men who had come at them. Turning almost as one, their focus was on heading down the hallway to the cellar, hoping the two men Athos had seen had not found the hidden cellar. But they had not even reached the hallway when they were halted in their tracks.
Mattieu, who saw them coming, dropped Aramis down in front of him, his dagger coming to rest at the helpless man's throat."Back off and clear my way to the door, or say goodbye to your friend!" he snarled.
Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan stopped in their tracks, not wanting to give the man any reason to use the wicked-looking knife on their brother's exposed neck.
"If you harm him again, there will be no place you can escape to that we will not find you. You are a dead man!" Athos told him, the full force of his aristocratic upbringing coming into play in his words.
"I'm afraid you've got it wrong again, Musketeer,'" Mattieu fired right back. "This one," shaking Aramis' limp body for emphasis, "is the dead man. If you even someday find him again, his body will be cold in death."
All three Musketeers heard the utter ruthlessness in the man's voice. A professional killer, the man would execute their brother without a sliver of remorse, the only thing present in his mind the promise of riches. They had sometimes run across this type of criminal, almost reveling in their capacity for intimidation, cruelty and killing. They knew they needed to be cautious. He could just as easily kill Aramis now, and enjoy the reactions he would get from them.
Athos spoke up clearly again, enunciating each word slowly and clearly, as he said, "What I said was a statement of fact. We will not oppose your path to the door. But if we do find that you have taken the life of our brother, no power on earth will hinder our vengeance."
He knew, as they all did, that showing panic or fear to a man of this type would just increase the belligerence. But this type of man recognized toughness when they met it in others, and recognized they meant exactly what they promised.
The Musketeers opened a path to the door, wishing fervently that they didn't have to. They watched helplessly as Mattieu walked through the path they had made, the dagger held tight in his grasp never wavering. He manhandled Aramis through the door, whistling for the horse he must have trained to respond. Then, he slammed the door shut behind him.
They, as one, flew towards the door. But before they could reach it, the ominous sound of a gunshot came from outside.