Chapter Two

The leader turned back to the restrained men, the bloody knife held loosely in his hand, 'shall I continue. I'm not sure how much longer he will remain conscious,' the man glanced back at Aramis, 'he'll probably pass out soon…that would give you a chance to reflect on what is left of your lives.'

Porthos was not looking at their captor he was watching Aramis. His friend was indeed breathing heavily, almost gasping for breath. When he had screamed the first time Porthos had yanked at the chains holding him back. He hated watching as his friend struggle, with decreasing strength to move away from the man who was cutting him. From the angle he was at he could see the leader of the men slowly slide the sharp blade under Aramis' skin and expertly separate it from his body. Porthos hated to imagine how much the action must have hurt Aramis. The marksman was tough, but every man had his limits. He doubted he could have withstood the treatment either.

The man turned back to Aramis and leaned over him again, peeling the skin back slowly before grabbing it and ripping it from Aramis' body. The scream of pain the action caused was quickly followed by the marksman's body stilling. The tension and shaking in his limbs gone. Aramis had passed out. Porthos was almost relieved.

'Hmm, I'm impressed, he lasted a lot longer than I thought he would,' said the man after he had double checked that Aramis was unconscious, 'I think I should like to continue with this one when he wakes up. Leave the others where they are,' the man turned to the rest of them, 'I'll be back in a couple of hours to continue…unless you want to give up the information now?'

They remained silent the man turned back to the still form of the marksman, he pulled the loose shirt back up to cover Aramis' shoulders, being careful to lay the fabric over the wound he had created, patting it down slightly. Porthos knew the action was very deliberate. Having the fabric of his shirt pulled off the wound would be as excruciatingly painful as the injury being inflicted was in the first place.

The man turned with a sneer to the three men chained to the wall, nodding his head to them as he left the room. The other men followed, the last man closed the door behind him. Porthos was closest to the door and managed to lean to the side far enough to see all the men retreating from the corridor and back up the stairs. They were alone. He nodded to Athos.

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'Aramis?' hissed Athos as loud as he dared, 'we're alone…'

'Aramis, come on, I know it hurts, but you're the only one that can get us free…' said Porthos.

'Aramis,' said Athos again slightly louder.

'OK…' came a mumbled reply from the marksman.

Both Athos and Porthos breathed a sigh of relief. Aramis slowly moved his arms up to push himself up to kneel on the table. He swayed slightly before twisting himself around to sit on the edge. The marksman was pale and looked on the verge of passing out again, it took him a few seconds to regain his focus.

'Aramis, stay awake, to your right by the wall, there's an iron bar…use it to pry our manacles off…Aramis.'

The marksman managed a slight nod and pushed himself off the table, with sluggish, pained movements, and a visible shake to his arms as he reached out and retrieved the iron bar. When he appeared to lose focus again a pained expression crossing his face Athos spoke again, firmly.

'Aramis, come over here and use the bar to break the chain.'

Aramis did as he was told. With a slightly awkward walk he crossed the room to stand in front of Athos. He reached up to place the bar between the chain and the wall but paused as the movement agitated his injury, Athos watched as his eyes lost focus again.

'Aramis, now, get me free then you can sit down for a few minutes.'

Aramis renewed his effort, he pushed the bar between one of the chains loops and pulled it downwards quickly. He was unable to stifle a cry of pain as again the movement agitated his injury. But he had done what he needed to do, Athos had one hand free. He reached forwards and grabbed the bar from Aramis' hand.

'Sit down,' said Athos, Aramis obeyed, swaying slightly as he crumpled to floor.

Athos quickly released his other hand and went to work on d'Artagnan's restraints. D'Artagnan was staring at Aramis.

'How did he do that? Did he make himself go unconscious?'

Despite the situation Porthos managed a huff of laughter, 'we've been soldiering longer than you…we know a trick or two.'

Once Athos had freed d'Artagnan he moved to Porthos releasing him quickly. Porthos crossed to Aramis who was still sat on the floor staring off into the distance.

'Hey, come on, you need to focus for a bit yet, when we are out of this and we get back to the horses, you can ride with me and not have to think about anything else for a bit…OK?'

'OK…but it really hurts, I'm not going to be any use to you…leave me here.'

'Don't talk rubbish, you idiot, just keep out of the way if we find any trouble.'

'Porthos, help me with this lock,' said Athos who had watched the brief exchange from the doorway.

Athos knew that Aramis would do his best but for now they were effectively only three men. He returned his attention to the door that was currently keeping them from even starting an escape attempt. Porthos looked at the lock briefly, then looked around the room.

'Need something slim to pick it with…'

'Here,' said d'Artagnan pulling a small thin knife from his boot, 'Constance gave it to me a few weeks ago, it's not much use for anything, I've been keeping it for luck more than anything.'

Porthos smiled, he took the small knife and bent at the knee to get to work on the lock. Athos watched as Porthos, with a delicacy which was contrary to his usual brutish behaviour picked the lock.

Athos went back to Aramis who had managed to compose himself a little, he had pushed himself up to stand, although he was leaning against the wall. Athos stepped behind him and looked at the bloody mess of his shirt.

'There's nothing we can do for you for now.'

'I know, let's get out of here first, I'm not particularly looking forward to getting this cleaned anyway,' replied Aramis with a wry smile.

D'Artagnan had picked up Aramis doublet and held it out for him, Aramis shook his head.

'If I try putting that on, I probably will pass out.'

'Got it,' said Porthos drawing their attention back to the door. Porthos slowly pulled the door open and leaned out to peer down the corridor, he looked back and smiled.

They filed out. Each man grabbing their weapon belts as they did so. Athos and Porthos took one each of Aramis' and d'Artagnan swung the medical bag across his shoulders.

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D'Artagnan watched as Porthos grabbed Aramis around the waist to guide the pale marksman along the corridor and pushed him ahead as they climbed the stairs. Athos reached the door that led back to the court yard, he eased it open slightly and peered out.

Turning back to friends he said, 'there is no way we are going that way, too many men around.'

D'Artagnan turned to the door he had stopped by, half way up the stairs, he bent down and peered through the keyhole. When he saw no one, he reached up and tried the handle, the door was unlocked, he slowly pushed it open and looked around. The door opened onto another corridor which probably ran adjacent to the courtyard. He stepped into it. The others followed.

He slowly made his way along the corridor, pausing at each closed door he reached and listening, when he heard nothing he moved along again. He was aware of the others following him. At the end the corridor turned to the left, he peered around the corner, a heavy door stood at the end. He approached it and tried to push it open.

The door was either too heavy for him or very stiff on its rusty hinges. D'Artagnan looked back at the others. Athos stepped forward and moved to push the door with d'Artagnan. The door gave a little and began to swing, once they had built up a little momentum it moved quite easily, but Athos had to hold the door to keep it from swinging closed. They stood back to allow Porthos to help Aramis through.

'Let's hope any other doors we come across are a bit better maintained,' said d'Artagnan as he and Athos controlled the door as it swung shut, not wanting it to make a noise.

'The castle is on several levels, it's built into the rock, there's likely to be other exits than that courtyard,' said Porthos as they continued looking for a way out.

D'Artagnan realised they had been lucky so far, not to have met anyone. But it was only a matter of time before they did, or their escape was noticed.

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The pain of his shirt tugging at the wound on his back was immense, but he knew he had to at least try to remain focused. Despite suggesting they leave him behind he had known the idea would not be entertained. Now that they were moving through the castle desperately trying to find an exit he was determined not to be a burden to his brothers. He would hold on until it was safe for him to deal with the injury. Not that he was looking forward to that particularly, but the sooner it was tended to the better. Aramis was glad they still had his medical bag, at least he knew there were clean dressing and alcohol to use.

Porthos had his arm around his waist and Aramis knew the big man was taking as much of his weight as he could. Despite the injury being to his shoulders he still felt weak and on the verge of passing out from the pain.

They reached another big, heavy door. The castle was certainly a defensible one. Porthos released him as he stepped forwards to help Athos push the door open. This was also weighted in such as way that it would swing shut again if not held open. Athos held it as Porthos returned to him and helped him through.

As Porthos and Aramis cleared the door, they heard a noise behind them. Porthos turned, pulling the marksman around with him causing him to hiss in pain at the sudden movement. Two armed men were approaching, one of them levelled a gun, and fired.

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D'Artagnan cried out as the ball hit his arm, pushing him back slightly with the momentum. Without thinking Athos stepped forward releasing the heavy door which swung shut. D'Artagnan had managed to draw his gun, but the shock from being shot meant that his aim was off. One of the men had stepped forwards quickly and shoved d'Artagnan backward. The young musketeer smacked his head on the heavy door and slumped down to the floor. Stunned.

Athos was able to get a quick look at the young man, before being forced to engage the two men in a sword fight.

The two men were no swordsmen, but they were very keen. Athos had to duck a high swing from one of the men and quickly side step a thrust from the other. As he continued to clash swords with the two men he was aware of d'Artagnan trying to regain his footing. The young man was clearly being affected by the wound to his arm or the bang to his head, or possibly both. D'Artagnan slipped back down to the ground.

Athos wondered if d'Artagnan had passed out.

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As the door had swung shut, Porthos had been given no choice but to let go of Aramis, who crumpled to the floor, and try to grab the door before it swung all the way closed. He was not quick enough to grab the edge of the door.

He pulled up the big metal ring that was on their side of the door and heaved it backwards. The door did not budge. It had taken two of them to push the door from the other side, alone, he doubted he would be able to open the door.

Porthos listened to the fighting on the other side of the door knowing there was nothing he could do to help, until he could get the door open.

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