The Key to Salvation
Chapter Nine
They were on the road within fifteen minutes with Treville's blessing. Once out of the city they urged their horses into a canter. Despite the urgency of their mission they had no choice but to slow to a walk after a while to avoid foundering their mounts. Conversation was kept to a minimum, each man solely focussed on recovering their lost brother. Athos silently cursed his friend's impetuosity in going off alone even though he could understand Aramis' motivation. This was the final chance to prove his innocence and, after being confined for ten months, it was not surprising that he would seek to do something proactive. Yet Athos fretted about Aramis' condition. He was not physically in good shape and would be unable to protect himself if he met trouble. The fact that he hadn't returned spoke volumes and he greatly feared that Aramis was in peril of his life.
They arrived in Provins in the late afternoon. The market in the main square was packing up as they dismounted. Athos hailed a man who was loading a cart with the remains of his produce.
"We seek Monsieur Lemaire."
The man turned and pointed to an inn on the edge of the square. "Y'll find him in there. He's the landlord."
Athos touched the brim of his hat. "Thank you." He put a hand out to stop Porthos. "I know you're worried about Aramis but I need you to keep your temper in check."
Porthos glowered at Athos' hand. "I'm not makin' any promises."
"Just remember that he can't tell us anything if you beat him unconscious."
Athos led the way to the inn which was doing good business. He immediately recognised Lemaire from Aramis' trial. The innkeeper was behind the bar dispensing drinks. Athos pushed through the crowd, his fierce scowl persuading the displaced patrons that it would be unwise to complain. He reached the bar and leaned over to grab Lemaire by the front of his shirt. The look of affronted surprise quickly changed to fear when he saw Athos' pauldron.
"Where is he?" Athos growled, knowing that his friends would have positioned themselves to guard his back.
The room had fallen silent and a space developed around the two men.
"Everyone get out," Porthos said menacingly.
"That's our Mayor you're manhandling," one of the braver patrons called.
"We are here on the King's business." D'Artagnan's voice was softer but still rang with authority.
Although people muttered amongst themselves no-one seemed inclined to challenge that.
Athos heard the sound of footsteps as the people began to leave. He tightened his grip on Lemaire. "I will ask you again. Where is Aramis?"
"I don't know."
Athos released him and turned to Porthos. "I think he needs an incentive to talk to us."
Porthos grinned and moved behind the bar. Lemaire cowered away but Porthos showed no interest in him. He picked up a bottle, looked at the label and then deliberately dropped it to the ground. The glass shattered and a pool of brown liquid formed in front of his feet. He moved along the bar and picked up a second bottle.
"What are you doing?" Lemaire asked anxiously.
Porthos ignored him, letting that bottle drop as well.
"Stop him!" Lemaire appealed to Athos who was watching with apparent disinterest.
Porthos turned his attention to one of the barrels of ale. He gripped the tap and yanked it out. Amber liquid began to pour over the floor.
"You can't do this," Lemaire shouted. "That's my livelihood you're ruining.
Athos held up a hand and Porthos leaned against the bar with his arms folded. "Are you ready to cooperate?"
Lemaire nodded sullenly.
"Good. I assume Aramis came here to talk to you. What happened to him?"
"The Baron's men took him."
"Baron?" d'Artagnan asked.
"Baron Neuville. These are his lands."
"Why would he be interested in Aramis?" The pieces started to fall into place in Athos' head but he still needed confirmation.
When Lemaire hesitated Porthos straightened up and began to eye the remaining stock.
"He's the one who paid me to steal the Queen's necklace," Lemaire said hurriedly. "I swear I didn't know what he had in mind. You're got to believe me."
"That's for a judge to decide, although if you testify against Neuville I will speak on your behalf," Athos said. He wasn't interested in the pawns. He wanted the man who had pulled the strings.
"Why Aramis?" Porthos asked.
"He didn't tell me. I knew nothing about it until he was arrested."
"Where can we find the Baron?" d'Artagnan asked.
"His manor house is a league south of the village."
"We will be back," Athos said. "Don't even think about running."
"Do you think he'll still be here when we return?" d'Artagnan asked as they went back to their horses.
"I don't know, but we have a more urgent task ahead of us. Now we know the Baron was behind the scheme even if we don't know why. He has over reached himself by taking Aramis and I fear his motivation. In addition to stealing the necklace he is now guilty of kidnapping and that carries a far more serious penalty. It is unlikely he will want to leave Aramis alive to testify against him."
It didn't take them long to reach the manor. The sun was already starting to set, painting the sky a vivid red. They were met at the door by a servant who led them to a lavish sitting room and bade them to wait. The three men remained standing with d'Artagnan wandering around the room restlessly. They were kept waiting for twenty minutes before the Baron entered with two of his men at his back.
"What brings the King's Musketeers to my door?"
Athos removed his hat and bowed. "My name is Athos. This is Porthos and d'Artagnan. We seek one of our companions and believe him to be here."
"There is no Musketeer here, I can assure you." The Baron walked over to a chair and sat, lounging back and perfectly relaxed.
"His name is Aramis. We were told that he was brought here by your men."
"That is true. He was causing trouble in the village and my men intervened."
"Where is he now?" Athos asked, keeping his tone as reasonable as he could.
"I have no idea. He was warned about his behaviour and sent on his way."
"You're lyin'," Porthos said aggressively.
The two men moved further into the room and laid their hands on the hilts of their swords. The Baron waved them away, not looking in the least disturbed by Porthos' outburst.
"I will have respect in my own home," the Baron said mildly. "If you don't believe me you have my leave the search the property."
"We'll do that," Athos said even though his heart sank. The offer would not have been made if Aramis were here. The obvious conclusion was that Aramis had been killed and his body disposed of but he refused to accept that.
They split up and searched every room before turning their attention to the stables and outbuildings. There was no sign that Aramis had ever been there. Athos saw his own fears reflected on his companions faces as they reconvened in the Baron's sitting room. The Baron was sitting where they had left him, sipping from a glass of wine.
"Are you satisfied?" he asked.
"We apologise for the inconvenience," Athos said through gritted teeth. His hands itched to beat the Baron to within an inch of his life and demand answers. He caught Porthos' eye and knew his friend felt the same. He shook his head, concerned by the mutinous expression and wanting to discourage precipitous and unwise action. "We will see ourselves out." He chivied Porthos and d'Artagnan out of the room.
"We can't just leave," d'Artagnan said.
"Yeah, he's hidin' somethin',"
"That is undoubtedly true but we have seen for ourselves that Aramis isn't here."
"Then, where is he?"
"I wish I had the answer, d'Artagnan. Perhaps the Baron is telling the truth. Aramis might already be back in Paris."
"You don't believe that."
Athos sighed. "No, I don't." He had laid his hands upon the reins of his horse when he heard a voice coming from behind him.
"Monsieur."
He turned to look, finally seeing a man beckoning from the shadows. "Stay here." He looked around to make sure they were not being observed before walking over. The man, one of the Baron's servants from the look of his clothes, wore a terrified expression and looked ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.
"You seek the one named Aramis?"
"Yes. Have you seen him?"
"They took him." The man's eyes darted around, fearful of being caught talking to Athos.
"Took him where?"
"Le Havre. He is to be sold to the Spanish."
A tidal wave of fury swept through Athos and the man hurriedly stepped back. Athos fought for composure. "Thank you. Your assistance will not be forgotten."
The servant nodded and hurried away, quickly disappearing into the darkness. Athos found he was shaking with anger. The urge to confront the Baron warred with the urgent need to get on the road. He strode back to his friends and mounted his horse.
"What did he say?" Porthos asked.
"Aramis has been taken to Le Havre. The Baron has sold him as a galley slave to the Spanish."
"I'll kill the bastard," Porthos said, disgust and anger mingling in his voice.
"That will have to wait. We must get to Le Havre before the Spanish ship sails."
"What if we're too late?" d'Artagnan asked.
Athos didn't answer. They all knew that if the ship sailed they would have lost their brother for good.
TMTMTM
They kept him out of sight in an abandoned warehouse until it was dark. Under the threat of a pistol he had no choice but to sit quietly. By the time they left the sky had darkened under more than just the falling of night. A howling wind was blowing and rain slapped them in their faces. As a port city Le Havre was never quiet but everyone still on the streets hurried along with their heads down, intent upon getting indoors. A knife was held against his side as they traversed the alleyways leading to the docks. There were many ships in the harbour but only one was flying the Spanish flag. Fear gripped him as they approached the gangplank and he looked around wildly for anyone who might help him. The knife cut through his shirt and pierced his skin.
"Behave," the man holding the knife said, having to raise his voice to be heard over the wind. "You try anything and I'll gut you."
He couldn't make his legs obey him and stopped at the bottom of the gangplank. With a muttered oath his other guard grabbed his arm and yanked him forward. They stepped onto the ship to be met by a Spanish officer.
"What do you want?"
Aramis was pushed forward, stumbled and fell to his knees on the wet deck.
"We have something for you."
The officer sneered. "He looks weak."
"Don't be fooled. He was a Musketeer."
"A Musketeer?" There was interest in the Spaniard's voice.
A hand fisted in Aramis' hair and his head was pulled back. He let all his anger show. He understood now Porthos' hatred of the slave trade. He had always found it to be a cruel and despicable practice but, now that he was faced with the reality, he also recognised the soul-numbing terror. He had been a prisoner for ten months and knew what loss of liberty felt like. This was worse. He was being bartered like a horse and it shamed him. It also occurred to him belatedly that he was facing a new danger. As one of the King's elite guard he was privy to many secrets which the Spanish would pay dearly to access.
"Ah, I see it now," the officer said. "There is still a fire in him. He will not submit easily." He released Aramis' hair. "I like a challenge. How much do you want for him?"
A hand on his shoulder kept him on his knees while they haggled. The cold rain soaked through his shirt plastering the material to his body. He shivered despite his best efforts to repress it. Eventually the price was agreed at one hundred and twenty gold pieces, a staggering amount given his condition. Clearly his worth was in the information he possessed, not his ability to wield an oar. He was dragged to his feet and pushed towards two sailors.
"Put him in the hold with the others."
He fought then, fear and the need to escape sending a jolt of adrenaline through his body. Freedom was only a few steps away. It he could make it to the dock he was certain he could find allies who would protect him. He got in one good punch before he was beaten down. Shackles locked around his wrists and ankles before he was pushed towards a ladder leading to the bowels of the ship.
Tbc