Chapter 24:
It was all her fault. Every moment of it.
If only she hadn't provoked Frollo…
There was no time to think of that!
Phoebus sank before her, and behind him stood none other than Frollo. Such violent rage had never burned through Esmeralda; no hatred had so threatened to consume her. Now, in the gathering darkness, she heard the judge laugh and the cold demonic inhumanity in the sound consumed her concern for Phoebus's wellbeing.
For all she knew, he was already dead, and could no longer be helped.
But this creature… he had crept through some unholy portal and now he threatened to steal the life of a good man, or had already done so. He would pay!
Esmeralda drew the dagger from her leg holster and lunged at Frollo, who only feinted and shouted, "Look! The Gypsy Esmeralda is here and has struck down the Captain of the guard!"
Esmeralda's eyes flashed through the brawling crowd, and watched them stop just to stare at her.
A short distance off, Pierre was staring at her.
Three things would have to happen now, and they had to happen simultaneously.
Her pouch of flash powder startled everyone, choking them on its dancing particles, and in a spark of inspiration, she lobbed a rock at the horse which was just a short distance off.
The horse reared and instantly those who could see turned away from the choking pink cloud to tend the massive horse.
An arm clasped Esmeralda's in the confusion as she tried to extricate herself, and she noticed that Phoebus was not quite as dead as she'd thought he was. "What…?" he croaked at her.
"I'm saving you," she whispered, and noticed Pierre rushing towards them.
"Esme!" he panted. "Thank God you're alive!"
Esmeralda craned her neck around and saw people trying to calm the horse. "That's going to be a problem…"
"Do another one of those… things you did…" Pierre suggested while peasants ran back toward the city. "I'll help you with… him. I know you'll need it."
For the first time, Esmeralda took for granted that Pierre could actually help her.
"Let's get to the riverbank," she said, and threw her own cloak over Phoebus's back. "We need to get rid of his armor, there's no way we can carry him like this."
Pierre helped her divest Phoebus of his armor, but they left him with his sword.
They weren't necessarily cowards, but they knew how to play the odds. They blended well with the other Parisians, save for Djali trotting along with them as an obvious marker of difference.
Once they were within the city limits, Esmeralda and Pierre ducked into an alley to allow the other peasants to pass by without being considered part of their group.
"We need to hurry…" Phoebus muttered. "Frollo will have his men flood the streets… close combat… polearms… swords…"
"What are we to do about polearms?" Pierre asked. "We are unarmed except for you, and neither of us knows how to wield a sword.
"Tighter the space… he won't be able to swing… you have to… make sure they have to follow you single file…"
"What we need to do is sew up your wound before you lose too much blood," Esmeralda replied. "You're already leaving a trail right to us."
"Leave me then… Esmeralda… you have to get to safety…"
"No, it's my fault this happened, I won't abandon you!" Esmeralda clung to him, clawing through her mind for any hint of where she could take him that would be safe.
There was only one.
"Stay with us, we've got a long journey ahead of us," she said softly, "come on, Pierre, we're taking him to Notre Dame."