Chapter 13: Obscurement
Me: -dressed like a circus ringleader- Step right up! Step along! Free airship rides for the next two hours!
Porthos: Shouldn't we strategically market a fair price considering the huge demand of people? Profits could triple if you can open up for four hours instead of the two. Ooh! And the last half hour could be free for second timers!
Me: Since when did you take Economic Statistics?
Porthos: I didn't, I'm doing this to spend money on myself.
Antoinette: There's the evil mastermind idea.
Buckingham: -pops up- Hey! There can only be one witty and dashing evil genius here and that's me!
Me: Yeah but only one of you can rock the one earring look. Starts with a Por- ends with a -thos.
Porthos: O.O There's someone else named Porthos?
Athos: My God, radiolover1029, you've struck him dumb for sure!
Me: -.- Great.
Antoinette: I wouldn't worry so much about him. He'll be fine if you give him money. -hands Porthos a gold coin and instantly he cheers up- Anyone want to stick Buckingham at the top of the blimp?
Me: I nominate Athos!
Athos: Alright. By my honors, I will. -sticks Buckingham at the butt of the blimp-
Buckingham: No! My hair wasn't meant for this close of humidity. Athooooosssss!
Me: I don't own anything from The Three Musketeers. If I did I would totally use that airship everrrrrrry day. :)
The pitter patter of the feet of vermin scuttle about the filthly linings of the fortress walls. Muck piled around them as their beady eyes searched high and low for any bit of morsel to chew on. Nothing fathomed their hunger as they scurried at the sound of marching feet stomping their away. Out of sight and mind, they hid within the shadows, only their tiny eyes peeped open at the far end of the fortress to a group of shady characters flittering out of the bustling area.
Antoinette let her hair down from her hood when she was sure the coast was clear again. She fixed a stair hair and desperately needed to shed her cloak if she desired to feel a little sense of cleanliness.
She stared blantantly at Athos rummaging around in Porthos sack for what looked like a speared metal grapple hook without any connecting rope.
Antoinette leaned next to Aramis, who crushed her to his side when his paranoia told him guards were a lit too close to the opposing gate they left from.
"Tell me why getting kicked out of this gateway, which is farther away from the docks than any other, is the ticket to getting onto an airship?" Antoinette narrowed her eyes. She understood the kid and a guard switch, an easier route to take. But for the rest of them getting to the airship (or phase two) was beyond her beliefs.
Athos smirked. "Little faith in me?"
She plastered a smile. "The smallest of doubts," she assured him.
He gripped the hook firmly in his hand. "With our performance, the guards will double at this gate now that we've proved to them it is far too easy to get in with peasants to deal with," He eyed the top of the fort walls where there were less sentries than those on the ground. "That would leave the other gates short a couple of guards than they are used to,"
Porthos caught on. "So they'll think we would use a ground approach?"
Aramis looked towards the heavens when a speck of cloud that was hiding the sun, disapparated. "When we do the opposite,"
Athos nodded. "Yes. Aramis, did you bring the rope?"
Aramis' leering eyes drank in Antoinette's still heavily bloated figure. "What do you think is holding the stuffing underneath Antoinette's skirts?" He teased his hands on her back. Antoinette's nose twitched from the feeling of coarse rope rubbing the wrong way against her smooth back.
Antoinette said quickly, "Yes, could we get them out? This fake pregnancy is giving me rope burn on my back," Porthos and Athos rolled their eyes as Aramis happily volunteered to be the one to take it off. Antoinette in return slapped his leacherous hands.
Undoing the knots of rope took less time than needed when Antoinette screwed on Aramis' mind in the right direction. Athos used the lengthy bits of rope to secure the hook line and let Porthos take the swing. It took two times before it managed to successfully land above their heads without loose ends.
Being the heaviest, naturally Porthos climbed the walls first. His feet took in every crack and nook and used them to hold up his figure. Once over the towering wall, he doubled the knots before giving the okay for Athos to scale next.
With a rushed timeline, Athos hurried up the rope. Antoinette shimmied up next with a sudden mastery to the skill of scaling walls. Her lean figure gave her the advantage to hoist faster but with the expense of rope burns blistering her hands already. She ignored the pain and looked down once to see her spotter, Aramis watching her every move.
Tired from her aching hands, she cracked up lightly, "So thankful I brought a pair of trousers," She reminded herself of the need of such articles before landing.
Clearly below, she heard, "I'm not,"
"Heard that!"
With five more heaves she was lifted up by the gentle giant Porthos minus the difficulty. "Light as a feather. Or two," he mocked her weight. She would have glared him with a real dagger if it weren't for Aramis already half way crawling up.
Aramis' passion came to heights. He trusted the Lord in mysterious ways to catch him when he fell. Being higher up made him closer to his religion, and thus was a particular strength for him in the Musketeer guard.
Athos hoisted a hand to Aramis, who willingly grabbed onto it. "Next, distraction. We break up in teams of two, in the right direction," He pointed the two directions that would separate us. At the intersecting corner what seemed like a mile away was the docks. Antoinette lifted her hair back into a braid before unveiling the shine from the dagger cases.
"We meet up at the water gate," Athos' voice strengthened as three guards on Antoinette and Aramis' side spotted them. If they didn't slit their throats soon, that three can easily turn into three hundred. "Break!"
Everything sped up for the one second they departed. Then time stood on the edge of a cliff. Slowly it bended to the will of gravity and with agony slowed. Together, as a team, the duo chased after each other in the wind. When one was a hair faster than the other, the said other would narrowly glance at the side before making the falling clock reverse from the beginning to even slower motion.
That was until Aramis got the first kill.
An attack at the jugular, three swift kicks in the pelvis from the hilt at different angles and a strangle for breath from both hunter and hunted, one by one they fell. Antoinette rammed into two, sent one eagle spread at the outer side of the fortress, dead.
Blood stained the English's mouths like premature red wine. The whites of their eyes only widened when they fell unceremonously to the ground. Limbs were left at odd angles. Gashes and opening wounds poured our crimson regret.
Once the tango was done, the clock smashed to the cliff's floor and the cycle of murdering was over. Antoinette wiped off her daggers with the dead's cloth cloaks. She watched with lidded eyes as her lover bent down to a boy solider- no older than 20. His eyes once held fire she had recognized too often. Her heart ached that the same boy that only marked one of innocence had no idea why he had joined a Lord's navy or know how to handle a weapon properly without overthinking or fumbling with the powder.
That same boy could have been the man she had grown to love years ago. Aramis took a spare handkerchief with no embroidery and dabbed the few specks of blood that marred his handsome face. With respect he lowered the napkin over the eyes and crossed fingers in the Holy Cross formation.
Antoinette's fingers drapped over the knealing Aramis' shoulder. Pain and empathy was written on her face. On Aramis, he wore it too often that he no longer knew how to show feelings for those he had slain. Without a moment to spare, he stalked off with an urgent need to hold Antoinette's hand. Together they ran off, not looking back at the sight they had spawned.
Eventually they all made it back without any more unnecessary interruptions. With a heavy, sinking heart Antoinette had to stow it away for the time being. She's done this many times before. Why should a single masterfully-skilled death haunt her now?
She'll think of the latter.
Athos scowled when the four of them climbed down the walls with the extra rope procured. They hid behind tall crates that gave a small viewing of two on duty guards who didn't seem likely to be unmoved. One of them was had a warning whistle that was loud enough for the armada to shoot them down from all angles.
"Locked," Athos muttered.
"Climb back up then down at the other side?" Aramis offered.
"No we would land either behind them on that narrow strip or plummet to our deaths at the rock shoreline."
Antoinette suddenly felt the rush of euphoria. Something only one person in high intense missions must have felt. A spark flew to her mind and without talking or signs of her implications she walked out to the open. Porthos and Aramis made a swipe to bring her back but the damage was already done. The two guards had seen her and eyed her for any potential threats.
She waved at them, seductively throwing an award winning smile and flipped her hair. "Excuse me! Boys!" She bloated her lip into a pout.
Porthos laughed giddily at the sight. "She's quick on her feet,"
Aramis shook his head knowingly. "As well as other things,"
Her hands found a spot on her curvacious waist while stepping closely to the men. Lying through her teeth she said, "I'm terribly lost? I was suppose to meet a Mr. Johnson at the shipyard for his appointment but no one has given a bit of kindness," The first common English name floated to her mind.
The older one of the two fixed the tighening of his collar under pressure while the youngster gawped like a fish out of water. "No worries, m'am. We'll...uh put you in the right direction," He flashed her, his yellowing teeth.
She laughed nervously, tracing a hand up his muscled arm. "Such a gentleman! Hard to find one of 'em nowadays, eh?"
He cocked a grin and elbowed his still gaping companion. He said brimming with self confidence, "You run along and check with the Captain if ole Johnson is on duty,"
"But-"
"That's an order!" he hissed. Like a puppy about to be kicked, he sprinted off with a purpose. Antoinette, pretending to be a doe, blinked her eyes. "Sorry 'bout that. Gangly youth, he is," he lewdly suggested.
"Oh?" she asked.s
The guard allowed himself to make himself useful and slap around an iron grip on her left hip. He leaned in closely, "Until he returns, I shall compensate for your company," His voice drunken with basic desires.
Antoinette's eyes lit up in fury. She hit him across the face like a brick wall meeting flesh. "Do I look like a two-bit whore?"
He retracted his arm to touch the burning of his face in confusion. "Huh?"
Kapow!
The man fell with his gun next to him knocked out cold with a bit of drool and blood coming from his mouth. Antoinette clapped her hands together.
She recalled, "Disgusting irkling," Her hands carefully unlooped the set of keys around his belt.
Athos grabbed them out of her hand almost immediately. "Good job,"
Aramis glared at the unconscious men and stabbed him once in the thigh. A few grunts groaned out of his liquid filled mouth. He unsheathed the dagger before returning to her side. "Just in case he has any ideas to crawl back,"
She fanned herself in false flippance. "My hero,"
Porthos came in between them. The divide nearly sent Antoinette to the ground if it weren't for Porthos that pushed her along to the marina. "Save that until after we capture the ship,"
"They weren't the distraction... I was,"
On cue, D'Artagnan shoved himself and unfortunately Buckingham out of the way as barrels of gunpowder and cannon balls bombarded this side of the fortress. Splinters of chairs and desks pieces littered the air. The surrounding soldiers didn't have the time to duck for cover as every explosion brought a world of pain to their faces from the fire and the stabbing bits.
Cranking a machine that released ammunition in a circular steering wheel, Aramis expertly loaded and reloaded as quickly as one good. His determination at the precise points sent massive chunks of wall and furniture to collapse the structure of the room altogether.
Porthos kept an eye on the firing rod as he cannoned rounds from three of the at ready guns aboard the ship. To his right, a most unusual innovation had the nerve to produce enough flame to spout it out like a Chinese dragon head. Or at least one could imagine. Athos spun the pivots before aiming cautiously at the gaping hole they created on the side of the fortress.
At the same time of the flames eating alive anything in sight, D'Artagnan clapped in irons made his way to avoid Porthos throw of black powder grenades. Antoinette stood besides Athos cocking the gun in hand to doubly sure the soldiers were dead and at anything that resembled a Union Jack article of clothing. Athos lowered the gun when they watched with bated breathing a running D'Artagnan about to embrace the chilling air.
The scream from Antoinette's vocals never came as he leaped just in the nick of time before the last of the grenades collided in heat. D'Artagnan's feet barely made it to the railing of the airship before gravity played devil's advocate.
Athos' reactions were quicker as he stepped out of his station and easily grabbed for the irons levaing the boy dangling on his feet between life and hellish death.
"Permission to come aboard?" he strangled.
Athos reported, "Granted,"
Antoinette finally let go of the air releasing sigh built up before throwing a dagger to rip a rope in it's place. The full mast billowed out and their sail was set.
Sneaking from behind, Aramis clasped a hand around hers as they casted away in the direction home could only be.
To their ears, the wind carried a dramatic inflection of a ruffled and battered up Buckingham with hatred bursting out.
"Athhhhoooooossssssssss!"
Neither cares nor concerns were let out. Only the stiffling gasps of laugher from Antoinette as Porthos imitated what could only be a mad tempered Buckingham.
I felt bad originally so I figured, 'hey, this chapter is gonna be short. why not do it?' So I did. Had motivation to do this :)
peak: Sometimes you don't need words at all in a scene. This is one of those times where simply words are too much and carry a burden.
pit: Going off with the peak, writing that boy soldier's death. When I planned this out, I never intended to write something like that. But I feel this story is a little fast paced and so I wanted something sobering. Plus it reinforced Aramis' point that there'll always be a death somewhere that no one can forget. :( Sad, I know.
Hopefully it won't get tooooooo sad in the next couple ones! Oh! And forgot to mention, this story will end at part 18 because that's the end of the movie. I don't know if they will make a sequel, I sure hope so! :)))
Read, review, and enjoy!