Insurgency
Chapter Nine
They returned to the Abbot's study where Father Guillaume was anxiously waiting. "Brother Rene, you should rest," he said, his voice full of concern.
"I'm going with them," Aramis responded.
"Still stubborn! Well, let me fetch you a robe." Father Guillaume went into his bedroom, returning quickly with a black robe.
Aramis looked at it indecisively. Although he didn't want to face the Colonel half naked he wasn't looking forward to having anything touching his back.
"Let me help you." D'Artagnan took the robe and approached Aramis.
He raised his arms as far as he could, the blood draining from his face when fiery pain lanced through his back. D'Artagnan slipped it over Aramis' head and he shoved his arms through the sleeves, suppressing a whimper. The material slid down his skin, feeling like the roughest wool against his ultra-sensitive nerves. His world tilted alarmingly and he felt d'Artagnan's hand on his arm offering support. When his vision cleared he saw Athos watching him critically.
"I will be alright," he said unconvincingly.
"I would be happier if you stayed here."
"I've earned the right to be involved in his capture," Aramis said hotly.
"No-one disputes that, but you are hurt and weak from the beatings."
Blood rushed back into his face as anger surfaced. "I've fought with worse injuries or do you believe I am not fit because I haven't been a soldier for four years?"
"I meant no offence," Athos said. "But, be sensible. You have been beaten and flogged and, yes, you aren't as fit as you used to be."
"I can still shoot."
"Somehow I doubt that. Look at your hands. You're shaking so badly you couldn't even aim."
"This bickering isn't getting us anywhere," d'Artagnan said, concerned about the rift developing between his two friends. "Athos, I think Aramis is right. He has earned his place in this night's work."
"Very well, but d'Artagnan and I take the lead."
"Agreed," Aramis said hastily before Athos could have second thoughts. "Father, you should tell our Brothers what is happening. Keep them safe within their rooms until we have the Colonel in custody."
"I will take care of them. Now, go, bring this man the justice he deserves."
Aramis' mouth tightened at that. "He will never face true justice for the death of Brother Bertrand. He will be taken to Paris and imprisoned but his release will almost certainly form part of the peace negotiations." His grip on the pistol tightened, as he avoided Athos' piercing stare.
"What you say is true," Athos said. "He will in all likelihood be released. However, his capture will do much to hasten the end of the war."
"As would his death," Aramis said.
"He is a more potent symbol of Spain's defeat if he is alive. If you were thinking with your head instead of your heart you would know that I am right."
"Brother Bertrand was eighteen. Marquez put a sword through his gut."
Athos' gaze didn't waver. "I am sorry, Aramis. Unless you agree to follow my orders you will stay here."
"You might be the Captain of the Musketeers, but you have no authority over me."
"No, but I do," Father Guillaume said. "You will follow his orders. There has been enough death. It is not for us to take vengeance. That is the Lord's prerogative."
"Are we agreed?" Athos asked.
"Yes," Aramis said sullenly.
"Good. Father, our friend Porthos will be guarding the front gate. It is unlikely that any of the Spanish soldiers will return but he will give us warning should they do so."
"I understand. We will stay out of your way and pray for the success of your mission. Go with God, my sons."
With Aramis in the lead they made their way to the guest quarters. When they reached the Colonel's room Athos motioned for Aramis to stay back. The brief exertion had worn him out, leaving him weak and shaking. He knew he would be a liability so he did as he was instructed. Athos opened the door quietly, fully aware that a loaded pistol could be waiting for him on the other side. However, when he entered the room he found it to be empty.
"Damn," he muttered. "Where the hell is he? D'Artagnan, warn Porthos and then get back to the other gate. I don't want him slipping away under cover of darkness."
"I'll see to it."
After d'Artagnan had gone Athos turned to Aramis. "Do you have any idea where he might be?"
"He could be in the infirmary checking on his men. One was close to death."
"It's as good a place to start as any. Stay close."
The infirmary was on the other side of the monastery. By the time they arrived Aramis could barely walk. The pain in his back and face conspired to make him feel sick and dizzy. Yet he was determined to see this through. Sweat poured down his back, aggravating his wounds and his palms were slick. He wiped his hands on his robe and gripped the handle of the pistol tightly.
"Let me go first," Aramis said. "He isn't expecting to see me and it might buy us precious seconds."
Athos looked at him appraisingly before nodding. Aramis entered the infirmary, the pistol held out of sight down by his side. Colonel Marquez was sitting by the bedside of the fatally injured soldier while Brother Jerome wiped the young man's brow with a cloth. The Colonel turned, his face registering surprise. Then, before Aramis could raise his gun the Colonel grabbed Brother Jerome around the neck and pulled him in front to shield his body.
Athos walked into the room, his pistol at the ready. "Surrender, Monsieur. There is no escape."
The Colonel drew his main gauche and shifted his grip on Brother Jerome so that he could hold the knife to the monk's throat. "I think you underestimate me. Drop your weapons or I will slit his throat."
"Then you will have no hostage and no way out," Athos said.
"That might be true but then there will be another dead monk and I do not think your companion wants that." He shifted his gaze to Aramis.
"Do as he says." Aramis bent down and laid his pistol on the floor. It was almost too much effort to straighten until he saw the amused look on the Colonel's face. This was a man with no conscience and no compunction about killing to achieve his objectives.
Athos' pistol didn't waver. "This is not a negotiation."
"I think it is." With a flick of his wrist the Colonel nicked the skin close to Brother Jerome's ear. Blood ran down the elderly monk's neck and he gave an involuntary cry of pain.
"Athos!" Aramis said urgently. "He will carry out his threat if you don't comply."
"I have heard of you," the Colonel said. "Captain of the Musketeers. Yes? How does it feel to be helpless?"
"We will hunt you down," Athos said, laying down his pistol and backing away.
"I am sure you will try." Marquez nudged Brother Jerome to get him moving, twisting the monk so that they were always facing the furious Musketeers. He reached the door and gave them a wry smile. "Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure." He took a step back and then suddenly stopped.
"Going somewhere?" Porthos asked.
Tbc