Remy clambered up onto the roof, clinging to almost invisible hand and footholds in the wall with ease. He scrambled up to the apex of the roof, spotted a courtyard below, and slid down quickly so that he wasn't silhouetted against the pale grey sky above the roofline. He lodged himself into an edge where the roof met with a higher wall, one leg swinging over the edge of the roof and the other tucked up with his foot in the drain channel to keep him on the roof. A quick glance around reassured him that no-one had spotted him.
He looked around the courtyard. It was pretty much like any large hotel courtyard, with tables and benches dotted around the edges, and a stable full of horses to one side. The main difference was, this hotel seemed to only serve soldiers. Some were practising sword fighting in pairs, some were cleaning their muskets and pistols, others were sat idly talking and watching their comrades. He grinned as he watched a trio spar, taking it in turns to be outnumbered, admiring the strength of the larger soldier, the speed and grace of the smaller man, and the ease with which the third out paced them both, without once showing off.
After a while, he moved away, leaving the other two to spar. The bigger man tried using his strength to gain the upper hand, but his friend was ready for him, side stepping nimbly and flicking his wrist, causing his sword to dart back towards his opponent, who merely laughed and actually batted the sword away with his arm. Remy watched them, mesmerised. He totally lost track of the third man, until he felt someone grab his ankle and pull.
His perch on the roof had been somewhat precarious and he tumbled from the roof, automatically throwing himself sideways to escape the outstretched arms, twisting cat like to land in a crouched position on his feet, albeit slightly awkwardly. He yelped in pain and shifted his weight to onto the ankle that didn't hurt, poised ready to fight or run. However, instead of an angry soldier ready to yell at him, or worse, all he looked up at was the third soldier, who had a look of concern on his face, and a hand stretched out towards Remy.
Remy instinctively took half a step backwards, away from the man, but instead of making a grab for him, he merely held his hands up in mock surrender.
"I didn't mean for you to fall that far. Are you alright?"
He seemed to be genuinely concerned. Remy straightened up, still shifting his weight to his right leg, and nodded, as he glanced around to check for an escape route. No one seemed to be paying them any attention, except for the two soldiers he'd been watching. They were just stood watching, with slightly amused expressions. There was a clear escape route out of the courtyard, although Remy wasn't sure he could run on his left ankle at the moment. The man who had pulled him from the roof had still made no move towards him.
"Hurt your ankle?"
The man had obviously noted he was shifting his weight to one foot. Remy risked another slight nod. Normally he wouldn't have admitted being injured to a stranger, especially if there was any chance he'd need to make a run for it, but this man didn't seem to be threatening. For some reason that Remy couldn't even begin to explain, he trusted him. The man held his hand out towards Remy again.
"Let my friend take a look. He's got some experience with injuries. Granted, usually cuts, but I'm sure he can help."
"I don't like physicians."
"He isn't a physician." The man lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "Actually, he's better than most physicians I've had the misfortune to meet, but don't tell him I said that."
Remy hesitated only slightly, before taking his hand and allowing the man to partially support his weight as he led him across the courtyard to the other two men.
"I'm Athos, by the way. That's Porthos." The biggest of the three men nodded a greeting with a toothy grin. "And the worried looking one is Aramis."
Aramis was indeed looking worried. Remy sat down and allowed Aramis to check his ankle, wincing a couple of times. It was already beginning to hurt a little less, but running was probably not going to be something he should try for a little while.
"Doesn't seem to be broken. I think you just jarred it when you landed. Maybe avoid falling off roofs for a few days though." Aramis winked at Remy and threw an accusing look at Athos, who merely shrugged.
"I was supposed to catch him, but he wasn't very co-operative."
Remy grinned a little sheepishly. Athos sat down beside him.
"So, what's your name, boy?"
"Remy."
"Do you often watch from roofs, Remy?"
Remy shrugged. "Guess so. Unless people yell at me or something. Safer up there, out of the way. Usually."
Athos chuckled. "I was trying to catch you."
A whistle from Porthos made Remy look round, just in time to catch the apple that was thrown at him. He looked at Porthos questioningly, but the dark skinned man just grinned and threw apples to Athos and Aramis, before taking a large bite from his own. Remy looked at the apple, then at Athos, who was busy chewing the fruit, before finally succumbing to the growling from his stomach and biting into the apple. He made short work of it, oblivious of the looks exchanged between the three men. Athos finished his apple and deftly threw the core into a basket to the left of the seat. Porthos swiftly followed. Aramis shook his head.
"No finesse."
"You'll miss," grinned Porthos.
Aramis sighed. "I am further away than you."
"Excuses." Porthos winked at Remy. "He's a terrible shot."
Aramis shook his head and tossed the apple core high into the air. They all watched as it fell back down, catching the very edge of the basket and briefly tottering before falling in. Porthos groaned.
"Lucky shot."
"Not luck, my friend. Skill. Pure skill."
"Care to show your skill with a sword instead?"
"Always."
Both men looked to Athos, who smiled and shook his head. "You two sort this out. I'll take the winner."
Porthos and Aramis headed to the centre of the courtyard, flexing their arms and trading minor insults in jest. Remy grinned, watching them, and threw his own apple core into the basket with barely a glance.
Athos raised his eyebrows slightly. "Good shot."
Remy was so engrossed watching the three men practise, that he completely lost track of time. It was only when the church bells rang for four o'clock that he realised how long he'd been there. And that he was late. He swore under his breath and half ran, half limped from the courtyard without a backward look. Athos paused mid parry and stepped backwards to avoid Aramis's attack.
Aramis followed his gaze. "Looks like our young friend is late for something."
"Hmmm."