The aftermath of the battle today. :) Just want to say a big thank you to everyone who continues to read the story. :)

Chapter Seventeen

Rochefort was pacing in his office. He knew for his plan to work they would most likely have already attacked the royal carriage and hopefully they had succeeded. He also knew that any news would still be hours away and that heightened his anxiety and excitement even more. He sat at his desk trying to distract himself but he could not erase his feelings. He was also worried that Renard would not keep his word and that his beloved Anne would be hurt. Maybe he shouldn't have left her with that thug. The thought angered him and he found his hands had made fists and his fingernails were close to penetrating the skin of his palms. He unclenched his fists slowly and tried to let the pent-up anger leave him. Renard knew the rules, he reminded himself. He was still in charge.

He leant back in his chair and closed his eyes. He could see it now, his brave rescue and Anne sobbing gratefully in his arms. All protocol forgotten and just raw emotion on show. He was there for her when no-one else was and she would be so very grateful. With her heightened emotions she was sure to profess her love for him and reward him as such. Rochefort smiled as he contemplated the outcome of his plan and was for the moment content.

Tréville turned to see the pistol aimed at his head.

'Drop your sword,' Renard announced gleefully and Tréville did as he was told. Joubert was trembling knelt on the ground, his shoulder wound was now bleeding profusely as he tried to stem the flow. Tréville moved towards his man but suddenly felt an object hit his back between his shoulder blades and he bent double as he gasped for air and his legs were then swiped out from underneath him, sending him crashing to the ground. As Tréville turned himself onto his back he found himself trapped by four swords.

'I never said move,' Renard sneered in victory and looked around to check his men. Eight were still alive but one had been critically injured by Duval and there would be no saving him. Renard indicated to one of his men to put the man out of his misery and the man complied. So seven men left not including himself. The wound Fabien had caused to his left foot was starting to throb very painfully and Renard cursed the musketeer as he made his way over to the carriage.

Anne could feel Lady Sarah trembling beside her as the sounds of the fight echoed in their ears. Anne closed her eyes as she did not wish to see the carnage wrought by the battle. Suddenly the sound of the fighting stopped but Anne heard an unfamiliar voice sneering in victory. The musketeers had lost.

She readied herself for what was to come. She was terrified but she would do her best not to show it and she would do her best to wear the mask that she had perfected over many years. She calmly relaxed Lady Sarah's grip and tried to give the woman a look of reassurance.

The carriage door opened and the man before her sneered, 'Your Majesty.' She could see the sword scar on his neck and knew this man was used to fighting. His eyes were cold and she repressed the shudder that wanted to flow through her body. He offered his hand to help her out of the carriage but she refused and made her way out by her own accord. She was determined to hold her head high and keep her composure. As she stepped out she saw the devastation around her. Bodies lying in pools of blood and she noticed four of her musketeers were dead but many more unidentified men also lay on the road. She swallowed harshly to try and stop the retching of her stomach which had suddenly been exacerbated by the smell of blood. One man looked as if had been gutted. Her eyes moved to Tréville who was pinned to the ground by four men's swords and the other musketeer, who she recalled was named Joubert, with two men standing over him. Joubert was knelt on the ground and Anne could see him clutching his shoulder that was bleeding rapidly and the musketeer was in obvious pain. The men who had attacked the convoy were looking rather pleased with themselves and Anne made sure she saw all their faces. She turned back to Renard who was grinning evilly and noticed the blood trail from his left foot. He was wounded.

Lady Sarah stepped out of the carriage but due to her fear her legs gave way and she ended up in a heap on the floor causing the men to laugh.

'Get up woman,' Renard said impatiently and grabbed Sarah's arm and pulled her to her feet. The woman looked harassed and fearful and was beginning to sob hysterically and Anne only hoped she didn't look the same. Right now she really missed her musketeers and was full of worry for her son that she may not see again.

Constance was sat in the Dauphin's chambers and was absent-mindedly playing with her hair. She would be much happier when Anne returned and she also knew the musketeers were due back tomorrow. No matter what she had said she cared for them, all of them. She loved D'Artagnan but she knew she had very little choice but to stay with her husband, well at least that's what she told herself, but she had also inherited the other musketeers when D'Artagnan had burst into her life. The other three were really very much like brothers, annoying brothers who easily found trouble.

Suddenly the Dauphin's crying filled the air and she quickly rushed over to his crib. She took him in her arms and tried to soothe him with very little success. Marguerite appeared and took the child from Constance and tried to soothe him herself. If anything, the child cried even more loudly. After a while Constance took the Dauphin back and tried to soothe him again, this time using the small bear that Aramis had asked her to give the child as a gift from the musketeers. Anne was aware of the gift even though the king wasn't. It was a small stuffed bear that was obviously not very expensive but was cute all the same. Anne had suggested that Louis would have it thrown out as it was not fit for a prince but Anne had made it clear that she wanted the bear kept and Constance had often seen her use to soothe her son.

Slowly the child calmed in Constance arms as he began to play with the bear's arms and legs. He started to gurgle happily at the toy and Constance breathed a sigh of relief. The Dauphin's eyes started to droop again and Constance placed him in his crib once more. She tried to take the bear from him but his grip in his sleep was strong. In the end she left the bear with him to let him sleep.

'I'll be honest captain, your men are really something,' Renard stated walking back towards Tréville and sending one of the men guarding Tréville to guard the queen. 'You've taken out thirteen of my men leaving only seven behind. That's quite an effort.'

'Clearly we…didn't take out enough,' Tréville gasped. Tréville was hauled to his feet by two men and he felt his legs shaking slightly. Renard suddenly punched Tréville in the stomach and the older man felt the air quickly leave his lungs as he bent double although his arms were being restrained. As he looked up another man had appeared, Boucher. Boucher punched Tréville hard in the face with his right hand making contact with Tréville's left jaw bone. Tréville could taste blood in his mouth where his cheek had made contact with his teeth.

Renard raised his hand to stop Boucher and then commented, 'Your musketeers have cost me twenty-one men in the last few days,' Renard watched as Tréville's face changed to confusion.

'Oh, you won't know of course,' Renard smiled mockingly.

Anne felt a shudder pass through her and hoped he hadn't meant her musketeers.

'Oi!' Simon shouted and everyone looked to see Lady Sarah running as fast as she could for the trees. A shot rang out and Anne's lady in waiting crumpled to the floor as the bullet hit her back.

'No!' Anne screamed and started to make her way towards Sarah but her path was blocked by Simon. 'She was innocent!' Anne's composure was completely lost and she no longer cared if anyone saw as she punched the man's chest rapidly and as hard as she could. He grabbed her wrists to make her stop and she felt the pain of his grip and finally stopped thrashing and he released his grip on her.

Tréville roared with fury and tried to disentangle himself from the men that held him but only received several punches in the stomach for his endeavours.

'You are a pathetic excuse for a man!' Tréville roared at Simon with fury in his eyes. Renard moved swiftly to Tréville and kicked his left knee causing the older man's leg to buckle and then Boucher lifted his foot and kicked Tréville hard in the chest. The captain was sent reeling and lay gasping on the floor as he felt one rib, possibly two, break.

'Leave him alone,' Anne's voice cut through the air with regal authority and she stood staring with disgust at the men before her. It was only for a moment but she saw the flicker of respect that had crossed the men's faces before they started to smile to mock her. It was small victory for Anne, but it was a victory none the less.

'As I was saying,' Renard started again, 'Your men cost me eight men a few days ago as well. They were accompanying a cart,' Tréville's heart sank as he realised this must have been the inseparables. Anne felt her worry heighten as she too knew her musketeers and been guarding a cart on the way to the Comte de Fortier's estate.

Renard bent down and moved closer to Tréville who was now sitting up on the ground, 'Eight men they cost me. Only one of them got a scratch in return. The mongrel,' he sneered angrily.

Tréville was angered by the man's description of Porthos but smiled back, 'Do you want me to say sorry?' he asked mockingly which led to slap across his face. Anne felt her nerves ebb slightly, they were alright. Aramis was alright.

Tréville was once again dragged to his feet and this time his hands were bound with rope. Renard walked over to Anne, he was limping more now as the pain of his wound started to truly register, and held out a piece of rope in front of her.

'Your Majesty,' he said. When Anne didn't move he said, 'I don't want to hurt you but I will have my men restrain you if need be.' Anne looked around to see two men approaching her and she looked instinctively to Tréville who gave a small nod.

Apprehensively she held out her hands and allowed Renard bind them. The rope was thin and she could already feel it grating against her skin but she was glad her hands weren't visibly shaking.

'Turn the cart around,' came Simon's voice and the horses were quickly unhitched and the carriage was turned by six men. Renard was stood next to the queen while Boucher was holding Tréville in a vice like grip. Joubert was now lying on the floor shuddering unattended. The cart horses were soon re-hitched and Renard was looking around for Joubert's horse.

Simon approached Joubert with a horse in tow, 'This one yours?' he asked and Joubert nodded while wincing with pain.

'Get him on the horse and tie him to it,' Renard said impatiently. 'We need him to get there alive.' Soon Joubert was tied to his horse to prevent him falling off and in many ways he was glad. He had lost a lot of blood and knew his wound would most likely prove fatal and he was already feeling the effects of the blood loss.

'Deliver this to the musketeer garrison so the king can be made aware of this situation,' Renard instructed holding out a sealed letter. Joubert took the letter and safely stowed it underneath his saddle knowing that should he die or fall off, the horse would navigate itself back to the garrison and the letter would be found.

Joubert's horse started to move and the musketeer yelped with pain at the sudden movement. He knew he would be lucky to make it to Paris alive and would never make it back before dark.

Renard turned to the carriage and opened the door. 'Your Majesty,' he indicated with a flourish of his hand that Anne should enter the carriage. Anne moved slowly as her bound hands were affecting her balance but she resolved to hold her head high. Getting in the carriage was much more difficult but soon she was seated and shortly after her Tréville was seated beside her. Anne could tell that he was wincing and his breathing was shallow. Renard finally took a seat across from them and placed his left foot up on the seat staining it with blood while directing a pistol towards them.

'It's not a long journey,' he said matter-of-factly. 'Got a lovely place for you to stay,' his smile was like ice running through Anne's veins.

Anne and Tréville both seriously doubted it as the carriage started to move.