Chapter Three

Athos moved forward, d'Artagnan was sprawled on the ground, the now dead man laying across him. Athos pushed the man off the young musketeer. D'Artagnan moaned and started to get up. Athos grabbed him and pulled him up. D'Artagnan blinked and swayed trying to regain his equilibrium after the sudden change in position.

'You have to move now, d'Artagnan…come on,' said Athos firmly. He knew d'Artagnan was probably not in any fit state to move quickly, but they had little choice.

He grabbed the young man's arm and pulled him along. Their movements hampered by d'Artagnan's lack of coordination. Athos had to grab him a couple of times as he stumbled. The fleeing gang member had probably reached the others by now. They had no time.

The side gate appeared, a beacon of hope to Athos. He rushed his confused friend forward, pushing him through the gate and firmly closing it behind him. Their horses were tied up a few yards away. Athos made a lighting assessment of d'Artagnan's state of health. He did not think his friend would be able to ride alone.

As they reached the horses Athos stopped d'Artagnan and said firmly, 'I'm going to mount and then help you up behind me. Stay there.'

D'Artagnan managed a slow nod, his was still blinking his eyes as if trying to clear his vision. He looked unfocused and confused. Athos pulled himself up onto his horse then twisted around to help pull d'Artagnan up. The musketeer managed to haul himself up and settled behind Athos his hands loosely circling the swordsman's waist. Athos leaned over and grabbed the reins of d'Artagnan horse before kicking his own into a trot. The movement would not be pleasant to the obviously concussed man sat behind him but they needed to put as much distance between them and the enemy as they could.

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Daviau turned away from Aramis as Janvier ran up. Janvier was breathing hard, he skidded to a halt in front of Daviau.

'Musketeers,' he said.

Porthos saw the look of alarm cross Aramis' face, knew it would have been echoed on his own. Had they been found out?

Janvier continued, 'two of them, in the grounds, one of them shot Paul.'

'What!'

Janvier turned and rushed back the way he had come, Daviau and the other gang members followed. Aramis waited for Porthos to catch him up as they brought up the rear.

'It must be Athos and d'Artagnan,' said Aramis quietly, 'this is not good. If they know we're on to them they may go to ground…you should go now, whilst they're distracted.'

Porthos shook his head, 'it would be too obvious, you know that.'

Aramis nodded, 'yes, but they seem to have accepted me…I'll take the risk.'

'And I won't,' replied Porthos as they crossed the gardens towards the huddled group of men.

Daviau was speaking, 'would you recognise the one that shot Paul?'

Janvier nodded, 'yes, he was about your age. There was another one, younger, Paul had knocked him down.'

Daviau turned as Aramis and Porthos joined the group he looked at Porthos then pointed at the body, 'you, take him inside, put him in the cellar for now.'

'Porthos is not yours to order around,' said Aramis, 'he is in my employ, not yours.'

Daviau stepped forward and grabbed Aramis by the shoulders pulling him close, 'and you are in my employ which makes him mine to order around.'

Daviau pushed Aramis back, before looking at Porthos again. Porthos looked over to Aramis who nodded. He bent down and pulled the body up, the limp man was of slight build, he had no trouble carrying him. Porthos headed back to the house leaving Aramis with Daviau. He was wondering if they should both get out. Daviau was starting to show his true colours.

The rest of the men followed him into the house. Leon moved ahead of Porthos and opened the door to the cellar and followed him down the steps. The cellar was formed of two rooms, one had held a copious amount of wine at some point, but now only two boxes were stored. A second room had a heavy door across it. Leon indicated for Porthos to lay the body down next to the boxes of wine. They returned to the others.

They had gathered in the room where Aramis and he had been questioned the day before. This time Porthos was not shut out, although he stayed by the door, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

Daviau had grabbed Aramis again and pushed him into the chair he had been sat in the previous evening.

'I want you to kill the musketeer that killed Paul.'

Aramis half rose from the chair to protest but Daviau roughly pushed him back down.

'That way I will know you are as good as you say you are.'

'I'm only being paid to assassinate the King, not a random soldier.'

'You are paid to kill who I say you are to kill. Do you understand me.'

Daviau was shouting now, clearly angry that Aramis had questioned him. He turned and looked at Porthos, the distain obvious in his eyes. Aramis seemed to detect the danger.

'I need him, he can help me find a good spot to shoot from…'

Without warning Daviau turned back to Aramis and backhanded him across the face with enough force to knock him from the chair. Porthos took an unconscious step forward, but found himself stopped by Page who was stood beside him.

Phillipe was next to Aramis pulling him back up to stand, but keeping hold of him. Daviau stepped forwards again and spoke firmly to Aramis.

'I am in charge here. And I will say who goes where, and that,' he pointed at Porthos, 'is going to stay here.'

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The situation had changed so rapidly Aramis was having a hard time keeping up. Daviau wanted him to kill Athos. And Daviau's anger was well and truly on show with both Porthos and himself on the receiving end of it.

For a few seconds he had thought that they could take the opportunity for Porthos to get word back to the others about what was happening, but that was clearly not an option now. He did not like the idea of them being split up, but they had to maintain the pretence.

Aramis decided his part required him to protest at this latest development, even though he had a fair idea what would happen when he did.

'I'm withdrawing my services,' said Aramis pulling himself away from Phillipe and crossing the room towards the door, 'we're leaving.'

He knew he would not get very far, but he had to keep to his character. As expected Phillipe grabbed him again, he tried to pull free, but the man held him tighter. Daviau stepped up again, a dagger held in his hand pointed at Aramis' throat.

'I can't hurt you…I need your skills with the gun…but I can hurt your man,' he glanced back to Porthos, 'I suggest you calm down…or your man will pay the price.'

Aramis stilled, Daviau had done exactly what he thought he would. He glanced across to Porthos who gave a small nod of acceptance. Their charade appeared to have held up.

Daviau turned back to Page saying, 'put him in the cellar…make sure he cannot leave.'

Aramis watched as Porthos was pushed out of the room, he did not protest at the treatment. Once he was out of sight Daviau turned back to him.

'You can stay with your man whilst Janvier identifies the Musketeer.'

Phillipe pushed Aramis forward, he did not protest but did glare at Daviau. He knew the more he resisted the more danger Porthos would be in. Once in the cellar, and his weapons removed, he was pushed into a small room with a heavy door which was closed behind him and locked. Light entered the room from two slanting windows which opened out onto the back gardens of the house. He looked around and found Porthos stood in the corner of the room grinning at him.

'Going well so far ain't it.'

'It could be worse…although I'm not sure how.'

Porthos sank down to sit on the floor, Aramis heard the clink of metal as his friend did so.

'I'm not going to be escaping any time soon,' said Porthos holding up the manacles that had been put on his wrists, a chain leading to a ring in the cellar floor.

'That's how it could be worse.'

'You know you're going to have to do it?'

'What?'

'Shoot Athos.'

Aramis stared at Porthos for a few seconds trying to absorb what the big musketeer had said.

'Not killing him you idiot, but you'll have to make it look like you 'ave.'

Aramis understood, it was probably the only way they could keep Athos alive.

'We'll need to get word to him.'

'I know.'

Aramis sat on the ground next to Porthos. Their situation was not improving.

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