Chapter Four
Aramis and Porthos followed the younger men as they moved towards the castle. The water in the filled moat was steadily lowering. Aramis glanced across at the steadily filling second moat and thought of poor Pierre. He hoped that he and Porthos could reach the young man in time. Not just for Pierre's sake but for d'Artagnan as well.
Their impromptu leader was doing a very good job of hiding his guilt at sending Pierre into the tunnel. Marc had intimated that Pierre had volunteered, which Aramis knew would be true, but d'Artagnan had the choice to refuse to let the man go on the solo mission. The chances that they were going to be retrieving a body must have been weighing heavily on d'Artagnan's shoulders.
As they reached the edge of the moat Aramis looked up. The castle was imposing but Simon had told them that there were not many men within its walls. Certainly, not more than the five of them could handle. Simon said that he knew the way to the room the men were holding Clement. The plan was for d'Artagnan to go with Simon and rescue Clement. Marc and Luc would back d'Artagnan up. As soon as he could Marc would head for the courtyard and find the main switch to stop the rise of the water. Aramis hoped that Porthos and he would already have liberated Pierre by that point.
There were a lot of unknowns. Pierre was in grave danger and Athos was back in the wood somewhere, unconscious and injured. Aramis did not like the assorted turn of events but there was nothing he could do about them.
The tunnel was being revealed as the water level lowered. As soon as they could they slid down the side of the moat and waded across, the water still knee deep. They hoped the castle occupants would not notice the lever had been triggered until the Musketeers were inside. The fortified castle had few windows on the weaker side, which explained the need for the inner shaft so that the operator would know when to pull the lever again.
Entering the dark tunnel they quickly made their way along it. They did not bother to try to be quiet, the splashes they were making were impossible to hide. If the men in the castle were not expecting them to attack via the tunnel the chances were they were not guarding the door at the end. It was fortuitous that the guard who had explained the mechanism had been killed in Clement's foiled escape. The rest of the men in the castle would not know that the secret to the defence mechanism had left with Clement's wife and Simon.
Luc took one look at the fragile wooden door and simply pushed it open. He stepped back to allow d'Artagnan to retake the lead. Marc followed glancing around carefully.
They each knew what they were doing, there was no need to talk.
A set of stone steps led them upwards, they emerged in the entrance way, just inside the imposing door that would lead them back out and across the moat. A small courtyard in front of the main door had a series of doors and arches leading off it.
Simon indicated which one they would need to enter to reach Clement. He took a couple of steps forward before turning back and looking toward Porthos and Aramis. He pointed towards an archway.
'The main courtyard is through there. I think there was a room where some of the men slept just before the courtyard,' he said quietly.
Porthos nodded and walked towards the archway. Aramis glanced at d'Artagnan.
'Good luck.'
D'Artagnan nodded, 'and you.'
The men split up to follow their separate quests.
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Simon reached the doorway and paused. D'Artagnan stopped by him, his hand reaching out to the handle.
'There's steps down and then a short corridor,' he said.
D'Artagnan nodded and gently pushed the servant back a couple of steps, 'keep to the back of us.'
Simon moved out of the way as d'Artagnan opened the door a few inches. He peered in. A flicker of light greeted him, torches were burning in the corridor at the bottom of the steps. He could see the shadow of a man, cast across the floor. D'Artagnan turned to the others and indicated for them to be very quiet.
After drawing his main gauche, he pulled the door fully open and slowly descended the steps. The shadow had not moved. It was impossible to tell which way the man was facing. D'Artagnan might be creeping up on a man with his back turned or the man could be facing him. D'Artagnan knew which option he preferred. As quietly as he could he stepped around the corner.
The man was facing away. D'Artagnan hated killing the man but he knew he had to. He grabbed the unsuspecting guard around the neck, drawing his dagger across the startled man's throat. The man did not have a chance to cry out.
As d'Artagnan lay the man on the ground, blood flowing freely from the wound on his neck the man stared at him, his eyes slowly losing their focus as his life drained away, spilling onto the stone floor beneath him. But d'Artagnan could not linger. He stood and advanced towards the door in front of him.
Marc and Luc had rounded the corner with Simon just behind them. A scream from within the room behind the door saw the three Musketeers switch from stealthy infiltrators to fast working, efficient soldiers.
Their movements were in tune, their combat training coming to the fore. Each man stepped slightly to the side, d'Artagnan pulled the door open. Marc stepped forward and fired his gun into the room, hitting a man. The man he had hit fell to the ground, dropping the lash he had been holding.
The five remaining men looked around. Four of them scrambled to retrieve weapons which lay discarded about the room. The fifth man could not move. The fifth man, d'Artagnan guessed was Clement.
Clement was chained in the middle of the room, his arms raised above his head, manacles around his wrists. He was suspended from the ceiling, his body held taught by further chains around his ankles attached to a hook on the floor. He was naked, his body covered in bruising and lash marks. But he was alive and conscious. A look of relief on his face, despite the precariousness of his position.
The three Musketeers rushed into the room. Luc was engaged instantly fighting the biggest man in the room, while Marc had stepped over the body of the man he had killed to take on a weedy looking man, who wore smarter clothes than the rest of the men. D'Artagnan was dealing with the last two men.
MMMM
His head hurt, his hip hurt. Athos opened his eyes and wondered why he could not see. He slowly moved his head to the side. A faint light filtered through the trees. He had not gone blind it was just the sun disappearing. Dusk. He wondered how long he had been lying there. He moved his arm, finding himself covered with a Musketeer cloak. Someone had taken care of him, but where were they now?
Very slowly and gingerly he pushed himself up onto his elbows, trying to get any further was going to be too painful he decided. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light he noticed the waterskin lying at his side and a rock with a piece of paper underneath it.
Frowning, Athos pushed the rock off the paper and picked it up. He huffed out a small laugh as he realised the paper was actually a hastily written message from d'Artagnan. His normally neat handwriting untidy, a few dirty smudges across the paper told him the message had been written with little care.
'Athos,
Stay where you are, we will come back for you. If you move we might not find you. We have infiltrated the castle. We will come back for you.'
He picked up the water skin and took a few sips before lying back down. Bending at the waist was painful, he did not see the point in remaining in pain. He could be just as alert lying down. His weapons had been left with him. But he doubted anyone would find him. D'Artagnan had left him well hidden.
The wound on his hip had been tended to. A firm bandage was wrapped around his waist, his breeches had been left with a few undone buttons to accommodate it. He did not think it was Aramis' work. Marc was their second medic. That implied to Athos that Aramis and Porthos had not returned when he was being tended to.
Had they returned since? Not knowing what was going on was unnerving. The price of not being in charge he thought.
A breeze filtered through the trees causing a few branches to sway. He glanced up as something caught his eye. A doublet and weapon belt hooked over a low branch near to him. He recognised the doublet as Pierre's. Why would the young Musketeer have taken his jacket off? And left his weapons?
Athos tried to work out what d'Artagnan and the others had done in order to infiltrate the castle. He thought back to Simon's description of the defences.
Athos realised what might have happened, he shuddered at the thought, at what d'Artagnan had done. Had his young friend sent Pierre on what was effectively a suicide mission?
MMMM
D'Artagnan thrust forward, just missing the taller of his two opponents. The man stepped to the side inadvertently knocking the short plump man who was also fighting d'Artagnan. The moment's distraction gave d'Artagnan a chance to glance across the room. Luc had somehow lost his sword and was engaged in hand to hand combat with the big man. It was clear Luc was winning. The man he was throwing punches at was uncoordinated and struggling to hit the big Musketeer.
Marc, who had taken on the easiest opponent was in the process of pulling his sword from the man's chest. The well-dressed man slumped to the floor, blood bubbling from his mouth as his body settled.
'Go,' yelled d'Artagnan, 'help the others, we've got this.'
Marc did not need telling twice. Despite knowing they would be left outnumbered, Pierre's time was running out.
As Marc left the room the crack of bones could be heard from the fight on the other side. Luc dropped his now dead opponent on the ground without ceremony. The big man grabbed his sword and crossed the room, bringing the sword to the side and swinging it towards the taller man.
The plump man took a step to the side, d'Artagnan followed him. The man was a capable fighter, but he was not as capable as d'Artagnan. The clashing of swords and parrying daggers filled the small room, echoing off the stone walls. A grunt from behind him told d'Artagnan that Luc had finished off the other man.
'See to Clement,' called d'Artagnan breathlessly.
He knew that he would be able to finish off the plump man, and wanted Clement unchained quickly. The position Clement was in would be putting immense pressure on his shoulders and arms.
The plump man renewed his efforts to slice his sword across d'Artagnan, who stepped back, drawing the man forward a step. The slight movement was enough for d'Artagnan to bring his left arm forward, thrusting his dagger deep into the man's gut. With a last swing, the man managed to hit d'Artagnan on the arm with his sword, but the force of the swing had gone. The sword merely thumped into his arm, the leather of his doublet absorbed the weak blow, d'Artagnan doubted he would even be bruised.
MMMM
They quietly moved through the archway towards the main yard. As they neared it they could hear water rushing. Aramis sped up slightly. Porthos grabbed his arm and pointed to an open door half-way along the passageway. Light from within fell on the ground outside. They could hear voices. The men within sounded drunk.
Quickly they reached the door. Porthos peered around then leaned back, turning to Aramis.
'Four of them, two look pretty much blind drunk...unless we can knock 'em out we're gonna have to kill them. There's no time.'
Aramis nodded. Porthos indicated a count of three.
Porthos rushed into the room, his gun drawn. He fired, hitting the closest man before ducking down as Aramis followed shooting another square in the chest. One of the drunk men rose, he went back down again when Porthos punched him hard in the jaw. The fourth man barely moved, but Porthos punched him as well to be certain.
All four men had been dealt with in thirty seconds. They retreated, closing and locking the door behind them.
They reached the edge of the courtyard. A large space in the middle was empty save for the grate which was situated in the centre in a gradual dip. They could see the sturdy padlock that kept the metal gate in place.
Porthos was shocked to see a grasping hand reach through the bars, frantically grabbing at the air. Porthos was about to rush forward only to find Aramis stopping him and nodded toward the side of the courtyard. A man was stood with his back to them relieving himself in the corner.
'I'll deal with him,' said Porthos quietly, 'you grab Pierre.'
Aramis nodded and moved across to the centre of the courtyard. Porthos moved silently towards the man who was doing up his breeches. Before the man could turn around he was dead, Porthos' main gauche had been pushed through his neck. With no further thought for the man, Porthos turned back to the centre of the courtyard.
Aramis was sprawled on the floor, his arms through the grate. It was clear the marksman had reached through to grab Pierre. The bars of the grate were slightly raised above the stone floor of the courtyard. The water, which was still rushing in was starting to spill out into the dip in the centre of the courtyard. Porthos realised that if Aramis stayed where he was long enough he would end up covered by the river water as well.
MMMM
'My wife?' panted Clement as Luc took his weight whilst d'Artagnan undid the manacles around the man's wrists.
D'Artagnan was balanced on a chair reaching up with the keys they had taken from the belt of the well-dressed man.
'We found her Monsieur,' replied d'Artagnan, 'she is safe in the local town.'
'Sir, I didn't want to leave you…'
Clement smiled tiredly at Simon, 'you did the right thing, Simon,' he said before wincing as Luc lowered him to the floor.
Simon knelt by Clement and supported his shoulders. The man was exhausted, but enjoying a brief surge of energy now that he had been freed.
D'Artagnan managed to manipulate the key in the lock of the manacles around the injured man's ankles.
'Monsieur,' said Clement, looking toward d'Artagnan, 'I'm afraid I talked, they broke me...I'm sorry.'
'It's fine,' said d'Artagnan with a small smile, 'we'll see that none of the men leave the castle. I have two more men searching.'
Clement nodded. Luc had found a cloak which he carefully lay across the injured man, who was starting to shiver.
'Simon,' said d'Artagnan turning to the servant, 'stay with Monsieur Clement whilst Luc and I help the others.
Simon nodded.
'Deal with them first, I can wait. I'm hurt, but it's nothing I won't survive,' said Clement.
D'Artagnan nodded as he rose, he led Luc from the room.
MMMM
The bubbling water was already up to Pierre's chest. When Aramis had first laid down over the grate in order to grab hold of the young man Pierre was treading water, he was trying to grab at the bars of the grate but seemed to lack the strength.
'I've got you,' said Aramis.
Pierre was breathing fast, he was shivering, but he managed to make eye contact with the marksman.
'Others?'
'Gone to liberate Clement. I've got Porthos with me, he's dealing with an issue at the moment.'
Pierre looked at the padlock.
'We're going to take care of it. We're going to get you out, just hold on.'
Pierre managed a nod.
Aramis looked away, toward Porthos who was looking around as he walked to the centre of the courtyard. The water was starting to lap over the side of the shaft, Aramis could feel it soaking into his clothes. He looked at the slope of the stones and realised he would be under the water as well if it was not shut down soon or they managed to free Pierre. With a sinking heart, he knew he would be forced to let go of Pierre. He knew Porthos would drag him away if necessary.
'Leave me,' said Pierre between sputtering coughs as he realised what Aramis was thinking.
'No, there's still time to get you out,' replied Aramis as calmly as he could.
Pierre could not hide the terror in his eyes any longer, the young man was clutching tightly to Aramis. Despite his wish to be left, the man was unconsciously refusing to let Aramis go.
Porthos was looking around for something to pry the padlock off with.
The water continued to rise.
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Authors note: sorry, I'm on an early shift tomorrow, the final chapter won't go up until 1600ish, UK time.