Warning: This chapter contains physical and mental torture. Please be aware.

Just a reminder that I own nothing and all mistakes are mine. :)

Chapter – Thirty

The musketeers woke early after very little sleep. A silent agreement had been reached that Athos should be the one to speak to the Duke. Athos honestly hated talking to nobles, which was ironic as he had once been one. He had never enjoyed the power that his title gave him and often chose to use it sparingly. Athos was sure the Duke would either say Aramis had been there or quite possibly forget a musketeer had ever visited. Athos knew he would have to keep his patience in check and was quietly imploring the others to do so as well.

Even though they woke early they waited a few hours to travel as high noblemen were known for rising late and the Duke would not see their search for their friend as an emergency. The last thing they wanted was to incur the Duke's wrath and make him less than helpful.

Aramis woke as the door of his cell clanged open. Renard saw the musketeer's doublet wrapped around him and pulled it away, instantly making Aramis shiver.

'Today, things start getting a bit more painful,' Renard grinned evilly and Aramis felt a shiver run through him that wasn't from the cold.

Renard brought out a thick bladed knife and held it in front of Aramis, twirling in it in his fingers. The dull blade would cause more pain than a sharper one and Aramis was sure this was going to be used on him. Renard was trying to judge the marksman's reactions but Aramis was careful to give little away.

'Gonna send a report to the Duke today,' Renard said. 'He wants an idea of our progress. But first I want to inflict some pain.'

Renard clicked his fingers and Aramis was held down by the usual men and gritted his teeth as Renard approached with the dull knife.

Renard considered Aramis in front of him and slowly scored a line from Aramis' right should to just above his nipple. Aramis could no longer hold in the moans of pain and this pleased Renard greatly. He moved to Aramis' left shoulder and repeated the movement as Aramis glared and growled. Renard then moved to Aramis' stomach and proceeded to cut smaller cuts but they still bled. He moved to just above the waistband of Aramis' breeches and did the same. For the first time Aramis screamed with the pain and Renard laughed as he had finally caused the musketeer to relinquish his refusal to scream.

Aramis was panting now trying to suck in any oxygen he could. Renard then moved to cut Aramis' breeches away and Aramis manged to aim a kick which connected with Renard's knee causing the scarred man to gasp with pain.

'Careful, musketeer,' he spat as he grabbed Aramis hair, exposing his neck. 'You don't want me to slip.' Aramis set his jaw had said nothing as Renard cut his breeches away and then roughly cut his braies to his mid-thigh. Aramis was already cold and now he was starting to shiver and he hoped involuntary movements wouldn't cause more damage.

Renard continued to cut Aramis skin with small cuts but they did bleed more than Aramis had thought. He wasn't going to bleed to death with these cuts but he knew that wasn't their purpose. These cuts were meant to become infected and that was how Renard wanted him to die. Days fighting, struggling against an infection that he couldn't possibly beat and wouldn't be treated. Aramis suddenly realised that Renard had stopped and was looking at him curiously.

'You've worked out how you will die, I see?' Renard grinned. 'Then you know that fighting is pointless. Even by some miracle that your friends find you they will now be too late.'

'Renard,' Aramis called. 'I know you are right...but be warned...when they find me, and they will, they will hunt you and your death may yet be as painful as mine.' Aramis felt a sense of triumph as a flicker of fear crossed the scarred man's features. Renard realised his fear had shown and cursed himself as he saw the look in Aramis' eyes.

'Don't worry,' he snarled. 'We'll do your back tomorrow.' Renard turned and left and the door was firmly locked in place again.

Aramis started checking the cuts. There were many and they were all oozing blood but Aramis knew the damage could already be done. Aramis' fingers were still sore and the nails were black. The pressure underneath them was immense but he managed to take a swig of water from the water-skin that they had left and then fumbled the water-skin trying to clean the cuts as best he could.

Once the water-skin was empty he lay down on the straw and realised his doublet was gone. They were going to leave him like this until he died.

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan approached the gates of the Duke of Épernon's estate with their silent agreement, about Athos speaking, still in place. Athos had never felt comfortable with servants and the Duke was clearly the opposite. Many servants could already be seen tending to the pristine gardens and they all knew it would be the same inside. Athos had always hated the idea of the ranks but he also knew exactly how to play them. Where Aramis might find a way to charm individuals Athos was clear on the etiquette that was expected. The lies and politics often made him feel sick but he knew he would have to watch his tongue. Any small accusation against the Duke could have far reaching consequences. He would surely have to play this carefully and hope that Porthos and D'Artagnan could hold their tongues as well.

They stated their business was with the Duke and were lead to an anti-chamber and were forced to wait a good twenty minutes before they were ushered in to meet the Duke. The Duke had been surprised to hear of their arrival this early as he had thought the Rochefort would keep them occupied for a while longer. He had decided on the best approach and although the men in front of him were just as repulsive as his captured musketeer he knew he couldn't show it. If he did, it would arouse suspicion and that was the last thing he wanted.

'Gentlemen,' he greeted them. 'More musketeers, what can I do for you?' The Duke had decided that ignoring Aramis completely would be strange and therefore decided that he would say Aramis had left here and he hadn't seen him since. This of course was vaguely true.

The musketeers bowed respectfully before Athos stepped forward.

'Please forgive our unexpected arrival, Monsieur,' Athos started. 'We do not wish to take up too much of your time but from your previous statement it is clear that you have met our colleague, the Musketeer Aramis.' Athos paused and waited.

'Yes,' the Duke confirmed as he looked to Athos. 'He delivered a letter to me and then he left.'

'It is about our colleague, Monsieur,' Athos continued. 'He has not returned to Paris and we are currently searching for his whereabouts. Did he seem in any way distressed or unwell?'

The Duke looked Athos in the eye and instantly regretted it. The piercing, icy blue orbs could see right through to his soul, he was sure of it. The musketeer, though technically a common soldier, was clearly adept in the ways of the nobles. The Duke knew he had to be careful.

'Not that I noticed,' he tried to keep his voice calm. 'I have heard nothing about any man being injured on my property either so, I'm sorry but I cannot help you.'

'Thank you, Monsieur,' Athos felt Porthos bristle beside him. 'May I ask your permission to search for him on you estate?'

'Why on earth would you want to do that?' the Duke snapped and realised his edginess was showing while the man in front of him was as calml as a millpond and in no way surprised by his outburst.

'I merely think it would be best to confirm whether or not our colleague left your estate or whether he may have run into trouble,' Athos kept his voice calm and reasonable. He wanted to make the Duke think that he didn't suspect him while the opposite was true. The more he watched the Duke the more he knew the man was involved in Aramis' disappearance. 'I think it would be best if we conducted a quiet search to establish if there was any chance of Aramis still being here. He is one of our best soldiers and the regiment doesn't take disappearances lightly. Allowing the three of us to conduct a search will cause little disruption to you and your subjects and therefore the need for a larger search party will not be required. We are, after all, the King's own regiment and I'm sure he will be happy to hear that you aided us in our search.'

Athos was analysing the movement of the Duke. He had stiffened considerably when a larger search party was mentioned and had then relaxed at mention of the King being grateful for letting them search. This man was involved and Athos knew it.

The Duke pondered his approach. His estate was large and the three of them would be unlikely to find Aramis' prison by themselves. The last thing he wanted was for more musketeers to appear with orders from the King to search the property. Would the King do that for a single soldier? Louis was fond of his regiment that much was known and could therefore know the musketeer by name. What if he was one of the favourites? He could not take that risk.

'Very well,' the Duke said calmly. 'You have until dusk to search. After that you will be arrested for trespass.' The Duke turned away as the musketeers recognised the dismissal.

'Thank you, Monsieur,' Athos aid. The Duke had given them the chance to search but the Épernon estate was large and they couldn't possibly search all of it. The Duke was definitely hiding something.

The musketeers bowed and turned to leave but Athos turned back and the sight in front of him horrified him. Clearly draped around the Duke's neck and clutched in his hand was the distinctive and unique crucifix that Aramis had received from the Queen. Athos turned as the Duke looked up and did not dare to look back.

The musketeers walked silently towards their horses and mounted quickly. They had little time to spare and the Duke clearly believed that they wouldn't find Aramis in their time frame. It was only once they were away from the estate that Porthos spoke.

'He's got him somewhere,' the big man growled. 'I know it.'

'Agreed,' D'Artagnan said grimly.

'He has Aramis' crucifix,' Athos said quietly but clear anger was present.

'WHAT!' Porthos said loudly making his horse jump at the sound.

'He clearly knew where Aramis was and as we were leaving I saw the crucifix around his neck,' Athos explained. 'He clearly believes that we won't find Aramis in the time he has given us and we have no idea where to start.'

'Maybe if we wait for him to leave he could lead us to Aramis?' D'Artagnan's voice was full of scepticism at his own suggestion.

'He ain't that stupid,' Porthos growled.

'All we can do is keep looking for anything abnormal or any kind of building that they could be using to hold him,' Athos said with authority.

'And if we don't find him?' D'Artagnan asked hopelessly.

'We keep searching until we do,' Athos eyes held a love and concern that D'Artagnan had only seen a few times in time he had been with the musketeers. Aramis and Porthos were always more open about feelings but fear and worry was radiating from the swordsman and that worried D'Artagnan even more.

The Duke was pacing as he realised the musketeers were not convinced he was innocent. He kept telling himself to calm down as they had no evidence.

'Excuse me, sir,' a soldier appeared. 'The musketeers have gone to explore the west side of the estate.'

'Thank you,' the Duke smiled and waved a hand to dismiss the man. Aramis was in the south of the estate and the Duke rushed to get to his horse. He knew how to break the musketeer now and he wanted to watch.

Aramis sat contemplating his future. Renard was convinced that Aramis would die here and that alone made Aramis wonder where he was. He was clearly far enough away from the estate, or anywhere at all, that it would be difficult for his brothers to find him. The state of his hands made him wince. The blood blisters were pressing hard against the nails and soon the nails would drop out. That would give him some relief if he could ensure they wouldn't become infected, but he couldn't ensure that. Already the cuts were starting to itch but thankfully most of the blood had congealed and was now starting to seal the cuts. Unfortunately, in terms of infection the damage may have already been done.

The cell door opened and Simon entered carrying two water-skins and the man looked horrified at the state of Aramis. He quickly moved to the two wounds on Aramis' chest that were the largest and oozing slightly. He looked at Aramis for permission and Aramis nodded as Simon poured water onto the cuts, making Aramis wince.

'I'm sorry,' the man said quietly. 'I'm useless.'

'You're helping,' Aramis said quietly. 'That's what matters. What's your name?'

'Simon,' he answered.

'Simon, you can't be seen to help me. I know that,' Aramis gave a weak smile. 'But you have done a lot for me. Thank you.' Simon smiled slightly and took the empty water-skin leaving Aramis with a full one.

Simon moved back upstairs and found Boucher sat at the table in their make-shift kitchen. Simon saw Aramis' doublet hung over the back of Boucher's chair and the warm mug of broth the man was drinking. Simon sat down with a sigh as he thought of the musketeer held prisoner down in the cells.

'What's wrong?' Boucher asked giving Simon a curious look.

'Nothing,' Simon answered but avoided eye-contact.

'Don't tell me you feel sorry for the bastard?' Boucher said angrily.

'I don't believe that man threw a child into a river willingly,' Simon responded hotly.

'You calling Renard a liar?' Boucher was incensed at his friend's feelings.

'Yes, I suppose I am,' Simon was angry now. 'That is a man who kills because he has to. Not like us who will kill anybody we're told to.'

'He's no better than us!'

'I think he is!' Simon filled a mug with broth and was in two mind whether he should take it to Aramis. 'Don't you ever hate yourself for just killing because you're told to?'

'No. That's our job,' Boucher responded defiantly. 'Remember that Simon. I'm keeping an eye on you.'

The Duke and a couple of trusted soldiers made for Aramis' prison and were greeted by a surprised Renard.

'What you doin' here?' Renard asked surprised.

'I assume he is still alive?' the Duke smiled to Renard who nodded. 'Good. Did you break him yet?'

'He's stubborn for sure,' Renard sighed. 'He believes his friends will come for him.'

'They have,' the Duke walked into the dingy building. 'And now I know how to crush him.'

'Wait a minute!' Renard said with shock in his voice. 'They're looking for him?' The Duke nodded. 'Did it ever occur to you that they might have followed you here?!'

'They were going west. One of my soldiers confirmed it,' Duke said angrily at Renard for questioning him. 'I believe that they are the perfect weapon against him.'

'This is hopeless,' D'Artagnan snapped. They had been riding around the estate for hours now and they weren't even sure what they were looking for. 'He could be dead already!' D'Artagnan was clearly suffering with the loss of Aramis and was now struggling to hold it together.

'He's not dead,' Porthos grunted. 'I'd know,' he pointed at his heart to make the point.

'He's alive,' Athos agreed. 'The world will feel an even darker place without him. My heart tells me he's alive.'

'I thought you taught head over heart,' D'Artagnan looked Athos with a slightly amused look.

'I do D'Artagnan,' Athos brought Roger alongside Zad. 'In battle your heart can cause you to misjudge but when you're searching for those you truly care about, you have to listen to your instincts and not your mind. The mind is very good at imagining the worst possible outcome but the heart just see the truth.'

D'Artagnan looked quizzically at Athos. The man must be seriously worried as he rarely displayed any kind of emotion. Athos took Zad's reins for a moment and D'Artagnan understood. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore his brain which was currently concocting all kinds of scenarios. Was Aramis alive? He wasn't sure how long he had his eyes closed but he realised that if Aramis were dead he would feel as if a part of himself had died and that wasn't true. He felt wounded but not as if a part of him was gone. Aramis was alive, for now.

'He's alive,' D'Artagnan opened his eyes. 'But we have to find him quickly.' The other two nodded as they continued their search.

The Duke decided he wanted to see Aramis for himself and put his new and dastardly idea to work. The Duke walked through the open cell door to see the dishevelled form of Aramis who was covered in blood and looked strikingly like the living dead. The Duke was about to speak when Aramis spoke first.

'To what do I owe the honour?' Aramis' voice was dripping with sarcasm and the Duke could see why Renard said he wasn't broken yet. The Duke was reminded of Rochefort's advice.

'I just wanted to see how pathetic you looked,' the Duke sneered while Aramis managed a sarcastic smile. 'Oh, I also have some information for you.'

'What information?' Aramis felt himself tense at the cruel smile on the Duke's lips. He dreaded what the man was going to say next. He also saw his beloved gift from the Queen around the man's neck and hated him even more.

'It's about your colleagues,' the Duke smirked and crouched before Aramis. Aramis felt a wave of fear run through him. The man could only mean his brothers. 'There were three of them.' This confirmed Aramis' worst fears.

'What about them?' Aramis voice held a dark quality that was reserved for those threatening people he loved.

'They came looking for you,' the Duke said matter-of-factly. Aramis felt his stomach squirm. 'They, like you, are now our guests.'

'WHERE ARE THEY?!' Aramis roared back. He was done hiding his emotions as the Duke smirked at him.

'I'm surprised you haven't heard their cries,' the Duke said calmly. 'Although, this is a large complex so perhaps their screams didn't travel.' Aramis could feel fear and hate rising up inside him as he contemplated his brothers' fate.

'What did you do?' Aramis asked even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

'Well,' the Duke's voice was sounding so happy, in fact positively gleeful, that Aramis would have killed him if he hadn't been chained. 'The cold stoic one with blue eyes,' Athos, Aramis concluded. 'He fought bravely but in the end he took a blow to the ribs. He was spouting blood when I last saw him and the likelihood is that his rib punctured his lung. He's not long for this world.'

Aramis thought of his friend who rarely showed emotion but had let him into his heart. Had always cared for both him and Porthos and latterly D'Artagnan when care was needed. Athos couldn't be dying.

'Then there was the mongrel,' Aramis bristled at the Duke's description of Porthos. 'Take a bit of pain to train him for the slave roll he was born for. I know a man I can sell him to.' The Duke was clearly relishing the power he had over Aramis.

Aramis couldn't help but think of Porthos chained up like a dog. No human should suffer that. Made to work until he dropped dead. Porthos was kind-hearted and didn't deserve that. No-one man did.

'Of course, then there's the young one,' the Duke continued. 'He cried when we took his most precious possessions.'

'What have you done to D'Artagnan?' Aramis asked as he knew he wouldn't like the answer.

'We took away his livelihood. He'll never hold a sword again,' the Duke said simply. The Duke then wiggled his fingers as Aramis understood the man's true meaning.

'NOOOO!' Aramis howled like a wounded animal as he charged the Duke. The Duke had gotten too close as Aramis head-butted him hard, full of anger. Aramis no longer cared. His brothers had suffered because of him. 'NOOO!' he wailed again as he dropped to his knees and started pulling at his hair with his sore hands. The pain in his body was completely insignificant compared to his emotional distress. He was a broken man.

Boucher and Simon heard the anguished cry in the kitchen. While Boucher smiled at the noise, Simon felt physically sick. What had the Duke done to the musketeer?

Outside of the shack, Fidget, Aramis' black stallion, heard his master's cry of pain and sorrow and pulled against the rope tethering him to the building. The horse broke free and galloped across the surrounding fields to escape the dreadful noise.

A/N: I'll do my best to continue this as quickkly as possible. :)