Warning for violence and general Aramis whump.

Insurgency

Chapter Six

When Aramis didn't respond to the question about his whereabouts the Colonel turned to Father Guillaume. "Did you know about this?"

"No," Aramis said quickly. "I acted alone." He wondered how he had been discovered. His next thought was one of panic. If the Spanish knew about the entrance he had used his friends could be walking into a trap. What if he had been seen talking to them? Their position might already be compromised.

The Colonel sneered at him. "We will soon discover the truth. You will surrender your sword."

Recognising that he had no choice he held out his weapon. It was snatched from his hand and his main gauche was pulled from its scabbard leaving him defenceless. One of the soldiers pulled his arms behind his back and bound his wrists. There wasn't a shred of sympathy on the man's face as he tightened the rope.

"What happens now?" Aramis asked.

"You were once a soldier. Yes? Then I do not have to tell you what happens to an enemy combatant who has been convicted of spying."

"I wasn't aware I'd been tried and found guilty," Aramis said, keeping all apprehension from his voice.

"We have no time for the niceties of a trial. In times of war it is for the commander to make decisions. Before you die, however, I want answers."

"Then you will be disappointed." His stomach clenched uncomfortably. He wasn't afraid of pain. He was afraid that he would inadvertently betray his friends.

"You will be questioned. It will be unpleasant. Why not save yourself from the pain and volunteer the information I want?"

"I have no information to give," he answered stoically.

The Colonel did not look too disappointed by the answer and Aramis could understand that. He was responsible for the injuries suffered by two of the Spanish soldiers. They would want their revenge for that before he was shot. What was particularly hard was the knowledge that his brothers were so close yet unaware of his plight. By the time they infiltrated the monastery he would most likely be dead and that was the cruelest irony of all.

"I must protest," Father Guillaume said forcefully. "Torture is barbaric. This man belongs to the Church. You have no right to treat him this way."

"Be careful, Abbot, or I might decide that you were in league with him and that would have unfortunate consequences for the rest of your monks."

The Abbot shot Aramis an apologetic look and backed down. Aramis felt no sense of betrayal. Indeed it was a relief to know that he was the only one who was going to suffer for his actions.

"Bring him."

A hand on his arm steered him along the hallway, up the stairs and into the refectory. He was pushed into a chair and tied to it. His breathing began to speed up as he waited for the inevitable pain.

"Where were you tonight?" the Colonel asked.

"Out for a walk." The first blow snapped his head to the left. A burning pain began along his cheekbone.

"What information have you passed to the French? How much of our plan have you betrayed?"

"It is no betrayal to be loyal to your own country."

The next blow split his bottom lip open. He felt blood trickle down his chin and into his beard.

"I assume you speak Spanish," the Colonel said. "What information did you overhear?"

Aramis shook his head and remained silent. The soldier's fist connected with his right eye, blurring his vision. The questions continued at a relentless pace, each one accompanied by a blow to his face which quickly became bloodied and bruised. Throughout the assault he said nothing, just prayed that it would soon be over. It took him a few moments to notice that the punches had stopped. Someone grabbed his hair and hauled his head back. He looked blearily at the furious features of the Colonel.

"I can see that stronger methods are going to be necessary."

Aramis didn't want to think about the meaning of that statement. He groaned involuntarily, his head sagging forward when his hair was released. He was cut loose from the chair and hustled out of the refectory. When he had trouble keeping up he was struck in the ribs and one particularly brutal blow connected with his back, close to his kidney.

When they reached the courtyard his first thought was that he was about to be executed. Then he saw Captain Vasquez holding a horse whip and he realised that he had more trials to face before the end.

TMTMTM

"He's comin' back with us," Porthos said joyfully.

"I wonder what changed his mind?" d'Artagnan asked.

"He's a soldier and he's finally realised that he can't live without the danger and excitement." Athos pulled his cloak closer around his body to ward off the chill of the night air.

"I wish he'd stayed with us."

"He made a valid point, d'Artagnan. The Colonel is known for his brutality. He wouldn't hesitate to deliver on his threat to execute the monks. Aramis couldn't live with that on his conscience."

"He looked tired and tired men make mistakes," Porthos said.

"Aramis can take care of himself."

"I hope you're right, Athos, because there's nothin' we can do to help him if he gets into trouble. Not until tomorrow night."

"It's not ideal, I grant you that. However, we now have a plan that has every chance of success and we have our brother coming home to us. I'd say that was a good night's work."

'Who're you puttin' in charge of the men out here?"

"You're assuming that we three will assault the monastery."

"Who else would it be?" d'Artagnan asked. "We're used to fighting as a unit and we know Aramis' style. None of the men with us ever fought with him."

"I will leave Sebastien in command of the ambush. He's earned his chance."

"He's a capable soldier," d'Artagnan said.

"Still, I would feel happier if one of you led the men."

"Not goin' to happen," Porthos said with an air of finality. "Remember? All for one."

"And one for all," Athos and d'Artagnan said both happy in the knowledge that their brother was coming home.

TMTMTM

Aramis was suspended by his wrists from one of the joists in the stables. His shirt was cut from his body leaving him shivering from the cold and the pain of his injuries. The Colonel stood in front of him, grasping his chin and lifting his head up so that they stood eye to eye.

"This is your last chance. Who have you spoken to and what information have you relayed."

When Aramis remained silent the Colonel moved back and nodded to the Captain. "Proceed."

The first stroke of the whip made Aramis catch his breath in shock. He'd never been flogged before and wasn't prepared for the severity of the pain. Captain Vasquez quickly settled into a rhythmic routine of strokes, each one of which elevated Aramis to new heights of agony. He could feel the whip tearing at his skin and it didn't take long before blood began to run down his back. At first he tried to keep a count of the lashes but that quickly became impossible and he concentrated instead on suppressing the groans of pain. When he made his first involuntary sound he felt as if he had somehow let himself down by showing weakness to the enemy. As if that had been a signal the Captain increased his speed, his arm appearing tireless. Now, Aramis couldn't contain the sounds of agony that slipped through his bruised lips. His back was a molten river of excruciating pain. His head began to reel as he edged closer to unconsciousness but, before he could find that blessed relief, the blows stopped. The world began to spin in sickening circles, leaving him feeling sick and weak.

"Don't you want this to end, Brother," the Colonel asked solicitously. "You only have to say the word."

Aramis gathered the pitiful amount of moisture left in his mouth and spat in the direction of his tormentor. It was the only defiance he could offer now that speech seemed to have eluded him.

"Continue."

The Colonel sounded furious and that was enough to bolster Aramis' determination. The lashes resumed and Aramis found his voice. His screams echoed around the stables and, although he didn't know it, filtered out to the monks who had been rounded up and forced to stand in the courtyard, mute witnesses to his torment. When the blows stopped for a second time his knees gave way with relief. He cried out when he took his full weight on his wrists, jarring his shoulders. He heard the Colonel and Vasquez conversing, although it was impossible to concentrate hard enough to work out everything they were saying. He got the impressing that Vasquez was questioning the effectiveness of the torture and that brought hope that his torment was about to end.

"Cut him down." The order came from the Colonel.

A knife sliced through the rope and Aramis fell heavily to the ground, uncaring that the open wounds in his back were likely to become ingrained with dirt and susceptible to infection. He didn't expect to live long enough for that to cause a problem.

"Get him on his feet."

He was hauled upright despite his efforts to hunch his back protectively. The abrupt movement sent more shafts of agony lancing through his body. They dragged him outside where he was surprised to find that the sun had risen. He screwed up his eyes against the brightness of the light.

"If you don't value your own safety perhaps there is another way to persuade you."

Aramis looked up groggily and saw two of the soldiers hustling Brother Bertrand to the front of the group of monks. The youth looked terrified. A sick feeling swept through him as he tried to take more of his own weight.

"We will start with the youngest and continue until I have the answers."

"What are you going to do?" Aramis asked weakly.

"This." The Colonel drew his sword and plunged it into Bertrand's body.

Aramis' eyes widened in horror. "No!" he yelled, his breath coming in heaving gasps. "No! No!"

Tbc