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They walked down the streets to Notre Dame and found the tavern the Cardinal had mentioned.
There was an old man sitting in front of it. He was sitting in the sun, enjoying a bottle of wine.
'Jean-Luc Pequar?' Athos asked.
'Who wants to know?' the old man asked, looking up.
'We're Musketeers. We're looking for someone. Word goes you know where he is,' Porthos said.
'Maybe. Who sent you?' Jean-Luc said.
'Someone who wants this guy alive and, if possible, unharmed,' Athos said.
'Fair enough. Who are you looking for?'
'The Nameless Assassin.'
'Alive and unharmed?'
'Yes.'
'Ah….' The old man kept silent for a moment, thinking. Then he nodded.
'I know where he is.'
'Really?' Porthos asked.
'Yes. You'll find your guy downstairs in the tavern behind me, at a corner table, alone, drinking wine,' Jean-Luc said.
'Drunk?'
'How would I know?'
'Fair enough…' Athos said. 'Gentlemen, let's go and fetch ourselves an assassin, shall we?'
The four Musketeers walked down the stairs and entered the tavern. They looked around.
'What can I get you gentlemen?' the young barmaid asked.
'At the moment nothing, my dear, thank you,' Aramis said. 'We're just looking for someone.'
'Who?'
'Can't tell you, sorry. State business,' Aramis said with his ever-charming smile.
'Okay then,' the young girl said and smiled back. She then continued with her work.
The Musketeers carried on searching the place.
The Nameless Assassin sat in the corner and watched them, still drinking wine. She didn't feel the effects of it. She never did.
'Hey mate!' some drunk called at her. 'Come drink with us!'
'I'm not your mate,' Emmanuelle growled. 'Piss off.'
D'Artagnan nudged the others. 'Is that him?'
'Yeah, I think so,' Athos said and pulled out a most wanted-paper to check it. 'Yes, that's our man.'
'That's not a man,' Aramis said, rather surprised. 'That's a woman!'
The others stared at him. 'You sure?'
'Definitely. You can see the hint of a bosom right there,' Aramis said.
'Oh, come on, mate,' the drunk called. 'Don't be such a pussy!'
'I said, piss off,' Emmanuelle grumbled and emptied her glass.
She refilled it again.
The drunk tried to stand up and reached for his sword. 'You asshole–' he began.
'Hey, hey, calm down,' Aramis said. 'If the lady wants to be left alone, you should leave her alone.'
'Hûh?' the man said.
Emmanuelle was just about to take a sip. She sighed and groaned exasperated. Then she emptied her glass at once and slammed it on the table.
The drunken man was utterly confused and sat down again.
'Well done, monsieur,' Emmanuelle growled and pushed her hat slightly back again. 'You have managed to ruin my mood and my disguise in one sentence. Congratulations, that's a new record.'
She stood up and stepped forward.
'I apologise, my lady,' Aramis said and lifted his head. 'I did not mean to offend you.'
'Do I look like a lady to you?'
'I guess not….'
'Then don't call me 'my lady',' Emmanuelle said annoyed.
'Of course. I apologise,' Aramis said. 'Again.'
'Whatever.' The assassin crossed her arms.
'You better have a very good reason for bothering me,' she then said.
'Yes, in fact I do,' Aramis said. 'I am looking for the Nameless Assassin.'
The whole place turned dead quiet.
'What are you looking at?' Emmanuelle asked them annoyed.
The guests returned to their conversations, of course keeping their ears pricked.
'You were saying?'
'I said I was looking for the Nameless Assassin,' Aramis said, a tiny bit uneasy.
'You found me,' Emmanuelle said. 'Well done; you just signed your death warrant.'
'It's a good thing I've brought some friends then,' Aramis said, his ever so charming smile returning, gesturing at his fellow Musketeers.
'Well then, you signed theirs as well,' Emmanuelle said with a disdainful smile. 'How chivalrous.'
'Wait, you're the Nameless Assassin?' D'Artagnan asked surprised.
'Shut your mouth, junior. I'm not talking to you.'
D'Artagnan closed his mouth, slightly unnerved.
'Why were you looking for me anyway, whoever you are?' Emmanuelle asked.
'We're Musketeers. I am Aramis and these are Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan. We have orders to take you with us, alive and, if possible, unharmed.'
'Alive and unharmed?' Emmanuelle asked with a raised eyebrow. 'That's new.'
'Yes, well,' Aramis said. 'You have to come with us. We have orders.'
'Well, that's going to problematic,' the assassin said calmly.
'And why is that?'
'You pissed me off.'
'Oh, right. I did apologise, didn't I?'
'So? You think a simple 'I'm sorry' is going to solve anything? That's adorable.'
The Musketeers looked at each other, not knowing what to say.
Emmanuelle rested her hand on the knob of her sword.
'So how are we going to settle this little matter of ours…' she said slowly.
'We can't just take you with us and leave, I suppose,' Porthos said.
'Oh, look at that, he can talk,' the assassin sneered. 'But no, you're right. That is never going to happen.'
'Keep that butter knife of yours in your pocket,' she suddenly snapped, turning her head to the right.
The drunk from before, had reached for his sword, but put his hand back on the table at her words.
'Same goes for your one-eyed friend behind me,' Emmanuelle said, turning slightly.
A man with an eye patch behind her sat down again.
'That's better…' the assassin said. 'Now, to return to our little problem…. Either everyone inside here is going to die… or we take this outside and settle this as grown-ups…. Your call.'
'How is everyone here going to die?' D'Artagnan asked with a raised eyebrow.
'There's a price on my head, boy,' the Nameless Assassin said calmly. 'Two hundred livres, dead or alive. There are enough people here willing to kill every single person in here to collect that money. If we settle this here, the chance that you four die is, well, a hundred percent. However, then a good thirty people will be witness of that and I don't like loose ends. So then, I will have to kill every single one of them, including that lovely little barmaid and her family. Do you understand?'
D'Artagnan nodded silently.
'So then we take it outside,' Athos said. 'Simple as that.'
'Except, you pissed me off. I don't feel like going anywhere with any of you,' Emmanuelle said calmly.
Aramis sighed. 'So how are we going to solve this?' he asked.
'Oh, I know,' D'Artagnan said and pulled his sword, which he laid against the assassin's neck.
She did not even flinch.
'Careful with that toothpick of yours,' she said calmly while she pushed it away with two fingers. 'You might accidentally hurt someone.'
'D'Artagnan…' Athos said cautionary. 'Remember who this is….'
The young man sighed and sheathed his sword again.
Then he pulled out his gun and pointed it directly at Emmanuelle's head.
'Come with us. Now,' he said.
'Put that popgun away, boy. I am not in the mood for games,' she said annoyed.
'I will put it away if you come with us,' D'Artagnan said nonchalantly.
'Look at that; did you suddenly decide to grow balls?' the assassin taunted.
'Mademoiselle, if you would please come with us, I'd be most happy,' Aramis said.
'Oh, so you're supposed to be a gentleman…' Emmanuelle said. 'But fine… I will humour you. Just this once. This is a too fine establishment to be wasted anyway.'
'So you're coming with us?' Aramis asked hopeful.
'I did say so, didn't I? Use your ears, I don't like repeating myself.'
She then glanced at D'Artagnan. 'Are you going to keep that pea shooter pointed at me?'
'Yes. I don't trust you.'
'Oh, well…. If it makes you feel any more comfortable…' Emmanuelle shrugged. 'Do as you please. You're not faster than me anyway.'
'Move,' D'Artagnan said, gesturing with the gun from the assassin to the door.
Emmanuelle laughed, but did walk outside, followed by the four Musketeers.
