First off, thank you once again to everyone reading my little story and to all of you who have taken the time to leave me comments. Your words mean so much to me! I have been a little bit distracted this week with everything that is going on in the Supernatural world with my wonderful Jared. So thankful that he is getting the rest and care that he needs. He is such a wonderful person and I am so honored to have had the chance to meet him. He is so very kind and gives so much to his fans. Anyway, I had wanted to get this chapter done and posted long before today, but my mind has just been too worried. I started this yesterday and continued today and just couldn't stop so it is a bit longer than my other chapters. It gets a bit dark at the end when we finally get back to d'Artagnan. The poor fella...why am I so cruel to the ones I love so much? So, I'll let you get to reading! Thanks again :)

Cindy

M

Chapter 5

Milady impatiently paced the stone floor as she awaited Cardinal Richelieu's arrival, her mind going a mile a minute to find a reason as to why the cardinal should tell her where d'Artagnan had been taken. She was still stumped by the feelings of concern she felt for the young musketeer, but those feelings hadn't allowed her to rest for one moment. She'd tossed and turned in her bed, visions of the Gascon beaten and bloodied torturing her mind and finally forcing her to rise and dress. She ate a quick breakfast then had hurried to the cardinal's offices to find out what he wanted with her and to sweet talk d'Artagnan's location out of the man. She stopped her pacing when the door at the far end of the cavernous room opened and Richelieu walked through. He strode slowly to her, a smirk on his thin lips.

"Milady, how are you this fine morning? I didn't quite expect you this early," the cardinal said as he approached the dark haired woman.

"You sent your guard to take my prisoner and to tell me you wanted to see me, so here I am," Milady answered coolly.

"Ah, yes, I did request this early meeting," Richelieu said as he moved to his desk and leaned against the edge.

"Why did you take my prisoner and why did you request my presence?"

"I took your prisoner because you failed to get him to agree to my offer and I requested your presence so that I could tell you how disappointed I am with you at yet another failure," the cardinal responded.

Milady's eyes crackled with anger as she turned on the cardinal. "I did not fail! You did not give me enough time! I would have gotten him to take your offer if…"

The cardinal waved his hand, cutting off the woman's tirade as he pushed away from the desk and took a step forward. "From what I could see from earlier, your prisoner was not enjoying your methods, Milady."

Milady laughed lightly, though there was no humor in the laugh at all. "How would you know if he was enjoying it? You weren't sitting where I was," she quipped.

"No, I was not," the cardinal said. "I am fairly certain that unwanted advances such as yours would prove futile in gaining the young Gascon's affirmative response. My methods however should get me what I want in no time. In fact, Gregoire may already have what I want. He can be quite, how should I put it…persuasive?" he added with a wicked grin.

Milady's heart hammered in her chest at the revelation. The cardinal had brought in the brute, Gregoire. She shivered at the thought of what he would do to d'Artagnan. "d'Artagnan will not be swayed by beatings. He is quite stubborn. My way is the only way you will get him to agree to join the red guard," she said with a barely concealed tone of desperation in her voice.

"Oh, I have given up on the young musketeer joining the red guard. That is no longer my goal. I did not bring in Gregoire for that," Richelieu stated.

"What do you mean? If not to make him take your offer, then what?" Milady asked, her mouth suddenly dry from fear.

"Alexandre d'Artagnan was my enemy. A thorn in my side. The day he died was supposed to also be the end of his family name. I was to be free from ever having to hear that name again, but I did not count on the resourcefulness of Alexandre's son," the cardinal explained.

"So, you called for his father's death? And d'Artagnan was meant to die as well?"

"Yes. I could not allow that man, nor his son to live. My men failed so I had to find another way."

"Why did you want d'Artagnan to join the guard if you hate him so much?" Milady asked.

"Where else to keep ones enemy…an enemy who did not even know he was an enemy…but by my side?" the cardinal answered with a shrug. "I would use the young man to destroy the musketeers and once they were brought down to a level where the King would have no choice but to shun them, I would have d'Artagnan killed and dumped at their garrison gate, the final nail in the coffin."

Milady took a deep, calming breath, schooled her expression and faced the cardinal. "How would using d'Artagnan allow you to destroy the musketeers?" she asked.

"Quite simple, actually. He was taken in by the most elite of the musketeers…the Inseparables." The cardinal spat the name as if it were poison, then continued. "d'Artagnan would be privy to things that other musketeers outside of that group would not know. Athos is the right hand of Treville so he would have knowledge of a good deal of information. His brothers, Aramis, Porthos and now d'Artagnan would also be privy to this knowledge. If anyone knows of the inner workings, legal and otherwise, of the musketeers, it would be the Inseparables. d'Artagnan is the weak link, so to say. He is the greenest, the easiest to break. I have been trying to find a way to put my plan into play for some time now, so when you notified me of the apparent falling out of the young Gascon, I knew the time had come. I just did not count on him remaining so loyal to the Inseparables."

Milady shook her head as the cardinal finished. "Your plan will not work. d'Artagnan will not be broken by beatings," she said.

"And you think you can get the information I seek your way?" the cardinal hissed.

"I would have a better chance than you have," Milady responded. "Take me to where you have d'Artagnan and I will get you what you desire," she added, her tone almost pleading.

The cardinal studied the woman carefully as he unconsciously rolled his beard between his fingers. "You do not wish the Gascon to be harmed. You have feelings for him?" he asked curiously.

"Do not be ridiculous! I could not care less about that boy! I just know what will work and what will not. The boy is twenty at the most. He is stubborn and strong, but he is also heartbroken and vulnerable. He is in love and his love scorned him, pushed him away and now his brothers have done the same. I can offer him comfort. I can offer him a woman's touch and once he believes that he has found a home with me, I will be able to get any information you seek," Milady explained. She watched the cardinal carefully as he seemed to consider her words. Finally he faced her, her heart dropping when he shook his head.

"No. You had your chance with him and you failed. I do not want to wait for you to get the boy to trust you enough to give up his secrets. I will get the information I seek my way…"

"He will die before he gives you any information! Where will you be then?"

The cardinal watched the woman for a moment before he answered. "If he dies before he gives me the information, I will at least know that the d'Artagnan line has ended, which was my goal to start with. I can still dump his broken body at the gates of the garrison and let them see what their actions caused. The Inseparables will never forgive themselves, no matter their feelings for the boy right now. They will never be the same as what they are now. I win, no matter what."

Milady fought as hard as she could to remain calm as she listened to the cardinal's words. As much as she wanted Athos to suffer, she could not allow it to happen with d'Artagnan's death. She had to find out where d'Artagnan was being held so she could then figure out a way to free him. She curled her lips into a cold grin and stepped toward the cardinal, her fingers coming up softly caress the front of his robe. "Well, at least take me to where you are holding him. If I cannot undo him my way, I can at least see him suffer," she said with a cool voice.

"No. I will let you know when he is dead. I may even let you see his body before I have him dumped at the garrison. You are excused," the cardinal said, the man watching with a sneer as Milady dipped her head then walked from the room. He remained beside his desk for several minutes before he too left his office. He did not want to miss the moment when the young musketeer broke, for he had no doubt that he would. Not one person had ever held out against Gregoire's interrogations and the cardinal was certain that the Gascon would be no different. He left through a side entrance and stepped up into a waiting carriage, completely unaware of the hooded figure sitting atop a gray mare watching him from a distance. The carriage pulled away, the morning mist swallowing it up as it headed to the outskirts of the city. The cloaked figure gave the gray mare a short kick and the horse began to move. Blue eyes squinted through the mist keeping the outline of the carriage in view while a smile curled the bright red lips. If the cardinal thought that he could dismiss her so easily then he was sadly mistaken, the rider thought as she too was swallowed up by the mist.

M

Milady watched from the cover of a decaying building as the plain carriage the cardinal rode in pulled alongside a stone and wooden structure. She narrowed her eyes as she counted at least three red guard stationed around the building. One guard opened the carriage door and held it while Richelieu stepped down onto the ground. The cardinal looked warily around then gave a quick nod before he moved toward the building and disappeared inside. The carriage was moved behind the structure where it was out of sight, though the early hour and the remote location left little chance that anyone would notice anything. Most of the buildings out this way looked as if they hadn't been inhabited for some time. Milady silently led her horse around the building that hid her and eased through overrun alleyways until she was behind the building. Much to her dismay, three more men stood guard there, giving her no chance of attempting a rescue. Cursing to herself she turned her horse to leave when the sound of a pained scream met her ears. The scream was faint, but undeniably d'Artagnan's. Her eyes darted from one end of the structure to the other, when they finally landed on a narrow passage dug into the earth with a set of rickety steps just visible from where she hid. "They must have him in the cellar," she whispered to herself, her heart racing in her chest.

Milady sat for a few moments, unsure of what she should do. There was no chance of her getting inside and rescuing the boy, of this she was certain. The building was heavily guarded, leaving Milady frustrated with her options. After several minutes she came to only one solution and the thought of it filled her with dread. Knowing there was no other way, she guided her horse back to the street and made her way to the heart of Paris.

M

By the time Milady reached the main part of Paris, the city had come alive. People were bustling about, rushing from here to there. Merchants displayed their wares, carts filled with loaves of bread, fish and produce lining the streets of the marketplace. Milady huffed with irritation as she navigated through the crowds. When her destination came into sight she dismounted her horse and walked up to the guard who stood at the garrison gate.

"I am looking for the musketeer, Athos, fetch him for me at once," she commanded as she stood, her hood still pulled up over her head.

"Athos left before dawn with Porthos and Aramis. I do not know when they will return," the musketeer guard stated.

"Do you know where they have gone?" Milady asked.

"No, I do not, and if I did I would not divulge that to you."

Milady narrowed her eyes as she glared at the man before her. With a huff she turned, pulled herself up into the saddle and rode away. She cursed silently as she began her search of the city. She would not rest until she found those she sought. She feared that time was quickly running out for d'Artagnan. From all that she had heard of Gregoire, he would be lucky to last the day, and even if they were able to rescue him, he may never be the same as he was before.

M

It was near midnight when Athos, Porthos and Aramis dragged themselves up the stairs to Athos' apartment, all three men bone weary, their hearts shattered at the thought that they may likely never see d'Artagnan again. They had spent the day searching, talking to anyone they thought would have any chance of an idea of what had happened to the young man. Nobody had seen anything. Porthos had even gone to Flea, but even she knew nothing of d'Artagnan's possible whereabouts. She promised to put feelers out, but held little hope. Their young friend was well and truly gone and they had all but lost hope of ever finding him. They had talked of the chance of him leaving for Lupiac, but with his horse and his things still at the garrison, that thought had quickly been quelled. He would not leave his horse behind, that they were sure of.

The three collapsed into chairs as they entered the apartment, each meeting the other's gazes. No words were spoken…what could they say? They had driven d'Artagnan away, possibly into the arms of a murderess who could very well by now know that he knew her identity. If that were the case, there was little chance that she would let the young Gascon live. He may already be dead for all they knew. They would not voice that possibility however. Not yet at least. Athos was just about to pour himself a glass of wine when the door to the room swung open and the very woman whom they had been thinking of sauntered in, her head held high as she met his shocked gaze.

"What the hell are you doing here!?" Athos bellowed as he jumped to his feet, his hands fisted at his sides. "What have you done with d'Artagnan!?"

Porthos and Aramis were on their feet in a flash, their eyes moving to the woman who could only be Milady de Winter.

"Oh, Athos, always the accusing type, no?" Milady answered, her voice like a purr. "I have done nothing with d'Artagnan. I might ask you all what you have done to him though. When I found him last night…"

"Wait…you found him? Where did you find him? Where is he?" Porthos hissed as he stepped toward Milady, who turned her ice cold glare at him and smiled.

"I found him sleeping in an alleyway, freezing out in the cold when he should have been with you! I took him home, but he is not there now," Milady answered.

"Where…is…he?" Athos growled.

"He was so shocked, so overcome with grief that his brothers could abandon him so. The pain in his eyes…the exquisite agony of his broken heart. It was all I could do not to ravage the poor boy," Milady purred. She barely had a moment to gloat before she found herself manhandled against the wall, a sharp cry torn from her lips at the treatment.

"If you laid one finger on him, I'll kill you," Athos hissed, his face mere inches from the smirking woman's.

"Been there, done that," Milady snapped as she pushed against the fuming musketeer's hold. "I laid more than a finger on him, but he was having none of that. He refused my advances…can you believe that? Him refusing me? Anyway, we were doing just fine until the red guard showed up and dragged him away."

"What!? Why would the red guard want d'Artagnan?" Aramis cried.

"If your brute of a leader will unhand me, I will explain. Time is of the utmost importance," Milady said, her blue eyes turning to catch Athos' gaze. Athos let go with a growl and stepped back, allowing the woman to compose herself.

"What has become of d'Artagnan? Why does the red guard have him?" Athos queried urgently.

"Cardinal Richelieu has been quite interested in d'Artagnan. When he heard that I had him, he came to make the boy an offer, to which the stubborn boy refused. He left, but sent his guards there a few hours later. They took d'Artagnan away and would not tell me where they were taking him. I managed to follow Richelieu to where I believe he is having d'Artagnan held," Milady explained.

Porthos stepped forward, murderous intent in his eyes as he glared at the small woman. "So tell us this…how did Richelieu hear that d'Artagnan was with you?"

"We are wasting time with these questions. I…"

"Answer the question! How did Richelieu know?" Athos hissed.

Milady shook her head and sighed. "Because I sent him word that d'Artagnan was with me."

"Why?" Aramis asked.

"Because, he employed me to get d'Artagnan away from you so that he could bring him to his side, so to speak," Milady answered.

"Why would he want the boy?" Porthos queried.

"Look, I can answer all of these questions…later. Right now we need to get to d'Artagnan! Every minute we spend talking, he is suffering!"

"What? What do you mean?" Athos asked, his voice shaky with sudden fear.

"d'Artagnan is very stubborn. He refused the cardinal's offer. He told Richelieu that he would never betray the musketeers. That did not sit well with Richelieu and his plans. As we stand here and talk, d'Artagnan is being tortured by the brute they call Gregoire. Richelieu plans to get any information he can from the boy so he can destroy the musketeers…plus he has a personal hatred of the boy's family. d'Artagnan will not survive the night!"

The three musketeers bristled at those words. "Why have you come to us? Is this not what you wanted? To destroy me? You must know that d'Artagnan's death would do just that," Athos said as he pushed the woman ahead of him and out the door, the other two musketeers hot on their heels.

"Yes, well, apparently the boy's death is something that I cannot bear to see happen. I want you to suffer, but not at his expense," Milady answered softly as she descended the stairs to the street below.

"We must get our horses as quickly as we can!" Porthos cried as they rushed out into the street.

Milady turned to the men and tilted her head. "I will meet you at the garrison gates. Once you are ready, I will lead you to d'Artagnan," she said as she turned to hurry away. Athos' hand on her arm brought her to an abrupt stop.

"I will go with you. I will not have you disappearing on us, leaving us floundering as you enjoy our pain," he said, his blue eyes daring her to refuse.

Milady pulled her arm free and glared at her husband. "Whatever…I have no intention of leaving you floundering, but you may come with me. My horse is big enough to carry us both," she said.

Athos turned to his brothers and gave a quick nod of his head. "Be quick my brothers…our youngest needs us and we will not fail him again," he said before turning and rushing after Milady. Porthos and Aramis took off toward the garrison, their legs carrying them as fast as they could. In less than half an hour the small party was barreling through the darkened streets of Paris with one thought on the three musketeers minds…bring their brother home.

M

d'Artagnan groaned as his tormentor, a monster of a man with long, dark stringy hair and cold gray eyes, dug a short dagger into the suspended musketeer's shoulder. The Gascon weakly cried out as the man twisted the dagger with a gleeful grin. "This will all end, whelp, when you tell me what I want to know," the man, Gregoire, hissed into the sagging boy's ear.

"Never," d'Artagnan whispered in response, his dark eyes rising to meet the cold gray ones defiantly.

Gregoire moved back and viciously ripped the dagger from d'Artagnan's shoulder, eliciting another pained cry from the boy. "You are a stubborn one, I will give you that. In fact, I am rather glad that you are so stubborn. I am thoroughly enjoying our time together. I do not usually get to spend this much time with my guests," he said as he smiled down at the barely conscious Gascon.

"Y-you are w-wasting your t-time. I w-will tell y-you nothing," d'Artagnan said, voice so weak it could barely be heard. The large man's grin widened, indicating that he did in fact hear.

"Aw, more fun to be had then," the man said as moved to a table where several instruments of torture lay. He put the bloodied dagger down and picked up another wicked looking device. He turned it in his hand, his eyes dancing gleefully in anticipation before he turned to look over at a corner of the room.

In a chair some 10 feet away sat Cardinal Richelieu. He wore a bored look on his face, the man becoming tired after several hours of the same thing. Gregoire handing out agony filled tortures while demanding answers to the cardinal's questions, and the young musketeer refusing to give those answers, no matter what was done to him. Richelieu had found himself almost impressed with the young man's restraint, but that was not enough to erase the anger that was building in him. He had not expected to be here in this dank, smelly cellar for so long. In fact, he had expected to have already delivered his horrible "package" to the musketeers by now. He had expected to have the information he sought so that he could begin the destruction of the musketeers for good. He had neither of these things, and his anger was turning to muted rage at every "never" d'Artagnan muttered. Finally, he came out of his thoughts and regarded his favored interrogator. The man grinned as he held the device up for Richelieu to see. Richelieu nodded as he stood and looked at the bloodied and beaten prisoner. "I grow bored of these proceedings. One hour…if he has not spoken up by then, slit his throat and deliver him to the musketeer garrison. Do whatever is necessary to make him talk," Richelieu commanded before abruptly turning and ascending the steps up to the room above.

Once the door to the cellar had closed behind the cardinal, Gregoire turned to his captive and smiled. d'Artagnan raised his head from where he allowed his chin to fall to his chest and looked at the man and the device he held with dread. He groaned when the large man spoke. "I took your fingernails…and oh how I enjoyed your screams. How about now I go to your toes?"

d'Artagnan swallowed against the bile that threatened to escape as he remembered the torture. "Do as you must…I will never betray my friends," he breathed out.

Gregoire watched the young man and shook his head. He could not understand why this boy would allow himself to be tortured so…all for the sake of the musketeer scum. The boy was so young…where did this resolve come from? He had been handsome before Gregoire had gotten his hands on him. Now, his face was so bruised and bloodied that he did not even resemble the man Gregoire had first seen. His lips were split in several places, eyes both black and blue and nearly swollen shut. His nose was most definitely broken and blood flowed sluggishly from the numerous cuts that riddled his face. His bare back and chest were just as damaged. The torturer had use knives and whips to try and gain the information the cardinal sought, but nothing had worked. Even as each fingernail was ripped from the Gascon's fingers, he still stubbornly refused to talk. Deep, dark bruises mottled the skin at his lower back where Gregoire had lost his temper at one point and had used d'Artagnan's kidneys as punching bags.

Gregoire moved toward the young man, the horrible device in one hand while the other hand lifted to gently cup the Gascon's cheek. "Just tell me what I want to know and I will end this right now. There is no need for you to suffer further. You have proven yourself loyal to your musketeer friends," the large man said with what could almost be akin to pity.

d'Artagnan jerked his face away from the man's touch and dropped his head. "Never," he whispered for the hundredth time. He gasped as his head was suddenly jerked up, a large hand twisted in his sweat soaked hair. Gregoire's eyes were filled with rage as he glared at the young man. "You know, I could take your tongue with this device…rip it from your mouth and watch you choke on your own blood! Tell me what I want to know!" he bellowed, d'Artagnan groaning as he yanked harder on his hair. d'Artagnan mustered a weak grin before suddenly spatting bloody spit into the surprised torturer's face. The man jerked away as if punched and reached his hand up to wipe the mess from his face. He curled his lip as he glared at the young man's grinning face. Without warning he brought the instrument up and crashed it against the side of d'Artagnan's head. The boy saw stars and his world tilted. His vision darkened as he suddenly felt hands upon him. His heart filled with dread as he felt his braies ripped down his legs and heard the next words Gregoire hissed.

"Maybe I have been going about this all wrong." d'Artagnan groaned out a terrified "no" as Gregoire moved behind him, his rough hands reaching around the boy's waist and pulling him backward. "Maybe I need to consider a different route," the man continued as d'Artagnan began to lose his battle with consciousness. He barely heard as the sound of a door crashing in tore through the cellar. He let the darkness take him just as an agonized voice screamed his name. He was completely gone when the fighting began.

Okay, let me have it! How could I do that to d'Artagnan? How could I leave it there? I'm sorry, I truly am, but then again...no I'm not! Drop me a line, let me know how I'm doing and I will get the next chapter up just as soon as I can. Loves!

Cindy