Athos never liked horse and carts- an incident when he was a child had compounded his dislike for being trapped in a wooden box and hurtling at great speed down wooden terrain. As his head banged painfully against the wooden side of the cart as the horse stumbled over a large tree root as she made her way down an uneven slope he was reminded of this fact- he groaned as he tried to lever himself up into a better position to take in their surroundings.
His wound was almost numb with pain, save for the painful burning of the criss-cross of stitches that he could feel running down his abdomen.
They were travelling down a narrow dirt road, obviously dug out and cultivated by previous occupants of the house as a way to get in and out of the forest- Athos could only pray that it led straight out of this hell and into open roads.
His side erupted in a sudden pain, but at least he could trust that the wound would hopefully not fester in the time it would take them to get back to Paris- he moved awkwardly towards D'artagnan,groaning in exertion as dragged himself across.
His fingertips were on fire as he clung on to the wooden sides of the cart as he tried to manoeuvre himself next to the younger man- finally he was crouched in the front of the cart, directly behind D'artagnan.
'You...alright?' he asked, already breathless with exhaustion, before a moan escaped him as the wheel of the cart fell into a small hole, jolting the two men into one another. He looked down at the Gascon as the younger man didn't answer- he could see his teeth still chattering and his clothes were still wet. His white hands were tightly fisted in the reigns, and the swordsman could see his eyes darting left and right along the path.
'D'artagnan,' he said, putting a hand on his good shoulder. 'Talk to me,'
'Can't.' D'artagnan replied, shrugging off the hand and craning his neck around a corner before the horse reached it. 'We h-have to get back to Paris in o-one piece...I have to g-get us back...'
'We'll get back, lad,' Athos tried to reassure him. 'How's your shoulder?' he asked- if it felt anything like his side felt he knew the lad would be in great pain.
'I'll be alright Athos,' D'artagnan's voice was tinted with something akin to annoyance or frustration- Athos put another hand on his shoulder, this time not moving it when the younger man tried to shrug it off.
'Listen, you have to let me help you; if you exhaust yourself we'll both be up a certain creek without a paddle,' he muttered, before groaning again as the horse turned a sharp corner, sending him off to the side and into the wooden wall of the cart- D'artagnan awkwardly turned and grasped onto his shirt, pulling him back into a crouching position.
'Sit down, I don't want you t-' both men startled as they heard a gunshot from somewhere behind them. 'Shit...' the younger man muttered, sitting up straighter as the horse spooked, threatening to derail the cart as it reared to try and find a way into the wooded area.
'Careful girl, careful!' the younger man cried, trying to manoeuvre the reigns- he groaned out as the leather cut into his cold skin.
He looked round with worried eyes as he felt two hands on his shoulder and back- Athos groaned out into his ear as the older man leaned on D'artagnan to heave himself quickly into a standing position and clamber over the cart and into the seat next to the Gacon. He swore loudly as pain flourished in his side, but he took the reigns from the younger man without another word and expertly began to take back control.
'Whoa...' he instructed, voice deep and laced with pain as he drew the reigns closer to his chest and moved the horse back into the middle of the path.
In his peripheral vision he saw D'artagnan look behind him- 'Can you see them?' he asked, before swearing loudly as the cart hit another dip in the road., jolting his side.
'No...' the Gascon muttered,shaking his head as he looked back to the front. 'Could have been a warning shot?'
'Or they've found Aramis and Porthos,' Athos replied, a hot weight dropping into his stomach. Guilt surged in his chest- they shouldn't be running from trouble...they should be facing it together.
'Don't say that...' D'artagnan groaned out from beside him, slumping to the side the cart, breathing heavily as the horse continued to walk down the muddy road.
Athos looked round, thinking- they were never going to get back to Paris to raise the alarm at this pace; Aramis and Porthos would surely not make it if they kept up this slow walk.
He snapped the reigns, groaning as the horse started to canter- he felt a steadying hand on his shoulder as D'artagnan moved to stop him falling from the cart.
'We need to make haste,' he explained, to which D'artagnan nodded with a fearful look.
'W-what if those men ca-catch us..' he stuttered, putting a hand on his bandaged shoulder for a few seconds as pain surged.
'I won't let anything happen to you,' the older man promised, eyes still on the muddy road.
Both men looked round suddenly as a deafening gun shot reached their ears; Athos swore again as he felt and heard a distinct whistle near his ear. Snapping the reigns again the horse threw itself forwards and around a corner, snorting with exertion as Athos drove it faster and faster in a bid to get away from the men. It was hard going, as the route was littered with high roots and holes, and mud was encrusting onto the wheels, making it tough to ride through.
'Come on, come on...' he muttered, eyes scanning for a sign that this forest was now beginning to thin and that they would soon be coming out the other side. There was a sudden, dull twang, and he looked round to see a crossbow arrow stuck into the wood behind them, with its point mere inches from D'artagnan's back.
Another whistling noise, and both men watched as an arrow flew between them before hitting a tree and falling to the ground.
'D'artagnan get down!' Athos shouted, putting a hand on the top of the younger man's head and pushing him down so he was out of target range. He cast a look round, eyes widening as he saw a group of men running behind them; in the darkness and fog he could not make out the exact number, but at the moment he did not care- he just cared about getting D'artagnan home safe. He had promised him he wouldn't let anything happen to him...
He grunted in fear and pain as another gunshot sounded, making the horse rear again to try and get itself out of range, jolting the cart to the side.
'Steady! Steady!' he cried, but it was no use- the scared animal would now do whatever it took to save itself. Athos' eyes widened as it darted left, into the woods- immediately the cart was stuck, as it's large wheels were unable to go over the roots and between the trees.
His wounded side erupted in pain as he collided with D'artagnan- 'Quickly, into the forest, we need to-' Athos' voice was cut off as they heard shouting coming up rapidly behind them. He roared out in anger and pain as he was grasped round the middle and hauled backwards- he threw his arms out and onto the face and neck of the man who held him, hoping to scratch or pinch him enough to have a few seconds to fight back.
He growled out as the man merely dug his fingers into his sides and renewed his attempt to drag him across the seat- Athos landed on the muddy ground with a cry of pain, before he groaned out as a kick was aimed squarely at his stomach, causing him to roll into himself to counter any more blows.
He looked up as he heard D'artagnan shouting and swearing at the men, before he groaned as he too was hit and dragged forwards to be thrown to the ground next to Athos.
'What have we got here?' a man cried above the din of the other shouting men. He peered down at the two Musketeers, grinning broadly. 'Trying to escape, where you?' he jeered, shaking his head, before bending down and grasping Athos' shirt and dragging into a standing position.
'You thought you could escape us?' he growled, showing yellow teeth.
Athos groaned but said nothing, which seemed to infuriate the man-he threw Athos back to the ground with such force the musketeer almost bounced; his back hit the wheel of the cart, sending a white hot pain through his ribs as he hit the muddy ground again next to D'artagnan.
'Where's the other two?' another man shouted- Athos looked up and saw he was the one who wielded the crossbow.
'Dead,' he muttered, before resting his head on the muddy ground. 'They're dead.' He prayed that this would stop them looking for Aramis and Porthos and let them have a better chance at escape.
'How are you so sure?' the man who dragged him out of the cart growled, stepping closer to him.
'We saw it happen!' D'artagnan replied this time, already catching on, anger in his voice. 'You bastards killed them!'
The Gascon cried out as a boot collided with his side, before another one found his stomach- Athos roared in anger and moved so he was in front of the the younger man as he curled into himself, protecting him with his body as much as he could.
'Touch him again and you'll regret it!' he spat, eyes fiery with anger as he twisted his fingers into D'artagnan's coat.
'Ah, isn't that sweet?' the man jeered, laughing as he walked back to the other men as they stood looking down at the two of them. Athos could now see there was four of them all looking down. 'What are we going to do with them?' He asked, sighing as if this was a particularly troubling conundrum that faced them.
'Suns coming up.' Another man pointed out. D'artagnan moved his head slowly round- sure enough the sky was now slowly taking on a light orange hue. It would be daylight in a few hours.
'Well we best get on with it...' the man muttered, before he and another two men stepped forwards and dragged them upwards into standing positions- Athos growled out and managed to land a punch on the man who was dragging d'artagnan, but that only succeeded in a punch in the gut from the man who was dragging him to this feet.
As they were dragged forwards and into the muddy path the heavens opened once more, sending cold rain and a biting wind into the group of men- the hunters were now shouting out ways to kill them, each suggestion worse than the one before.
'We should gut them like deer!' one man spat.
'Lets drown 'em in the mud!' the man holding Athos cried out as he jeered into his face- Athos had to swallow back the bile as his rancid breath hit his nose.
Both men groaned out and desperately tried to get the men off of them as they were dragged backwards and into the woods. Athos tried to dig his heels into the wet mud and undergrowth to try and get some leverage to fight back- he cried out in pain as his legs were instead kicked from under him, jolting his stitches and ribs, before the man continued to drag him further into the woods.
'Lets do it this way!' the man with the crossbow shouted, and seconds later both musketeers were thrown back onto the wet ground. Athos immediately crawled to d'artagnan's side as the younger man didn't move- with cold hands he tried to rouse him, relief sinking into him as the Gascon finally opened his eyes.
Before Athos could even get a chance to say anything they were both roughly pulled upwards again into kneeling positions, facing away from the group of laughing men.
'Hands on your heads!' the man shouted, pushing D'artagnan in the back as the younger man hesitated. 'Now!'
The Gascon looked sideways to Athos, to assess whether they should do as this madman asked. What he saw scared him- Athos was already looking at him, his face drawn and his eyes wide. Wide with a fear D'artagnan had only ever seen once; he had had the same expression on his face in the seconds before he was going to be executed for a crime he did not commit, back when D'artagnan had first met him.
'I said put your hands up!' The man spat, before putting a boot on Athos' back and forcefully pushing him forwards into the mud. This time Athos said nothing as he painfully, slowly, got back up into a kneeling position.
He slowly lifted his arms into the air, his hands shaking with a mix of cold and fear as he placed his hands on his head and looked straight ahead, into the dark forest beyond them.
Swallowing hard, D'artagnan did the same, and the men laughed and jeered before they started arguing amongst themselves about who would be the one to shoot them.
'D'artagnan,' Athos whispered, his eyes still facing forwards. Rain hit his eyes but he did not blink or move as D'artagnan acknowledged his voice.
'Yes?'
'I'm sorry.' The words were quiet, almost inaudible as the rain lashed down, but to D'artagnan it was if the words had been hollerred in his ears.
'Don't you say that,' the Gascon shook his head, voice threatening to crack. 'It's not your fault.'
'I promised nothing would happen to you.'
'You've been true to your word.' D'artagnan replied with a small shrug. 'You can't help this time- you can only protect all of us so much.'
Athos was just about to open his mouth to reply when there was a shout from behind then followed by the sudden noise of two muskets being readied. They had decided at last, then.
D'artagnan felt himself shake with fear, no matter how much he held himself stiff and tried to breathe through the panic and fear- he looked across at Athos and saw the older man now had his eyes shut.
There was a flick of a match- D'artagnan knew it would not be long now.
Squeezing his eyes shut his stomach churned; he only hoped it would be quick.
Birds cawed and rose form the trees in fright as two gunshots sounded, filling the forest with a deafening noise. Two bodies slumped to the forest floor, their unseeing eyes staring up to the canopy, rain pattering down as a silence descended.
Next chapter up soon! I'm planning for it to be pretty long, so I hope you'll like it!
Thanks for reading, please review!
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