Through Darker Days

Chapter Eleven

Aramis awoke to darkness. The sensation of cloth across his eyes reassured him that he was blindfolded, not blind. He was sitting on the ground, his arms pulled back around a post with his wrists bound. His ankles were also tightly tied together. Aching in his jaw brought back the memory of a fist hurtling towards his face. He stifled a groan and lifted his head, trying to hear anything that would give him a clue as to his location. In the end it wasn't the sounds but the smell that led him to the conclusion that he was close to the river.

"You're awake."

He cocked his head towards the voice. "You are making a big mistake. My friends will find me." He heard footsteps drawing closer.

"Tell me what you know."

He recognized Lacroix's voice. "I don't know what you're talking about." Without his sight he had no warning. His head rocked to the side with the force of the blow to his right cheek.

"A few nights ago a Musketeer overheard us talking. My men were told to take care of him but obviously didn't finish the job. What did he tell you?"

"Nothing." He braced himself. The blow this time connected with his nose, pushing his head violently back against the post. He took shallow breaths as the pain blossomed.

"Lies won't help you."

Aramis knew he had to play this carefully. While Lacroix thought he had information he had value. He resigned himself to a painful beating and shook his head. There were no questions for a while, just blow after blow to his face. Finally, Lacroix called a halt, giving him a chance to catch his breath.

"Are you ready to talk?"

Aramis licked his swollen and bruised lips and shook his head. The assault began again, pushing him closer and closer to oblivion. A wall of water smacked him in the face and he came back to awareness with a gasp. The foul smell warned him that it had come from the river so he resisted the urge to relieve his parched mouth and throat by catching the drops on his tongue.

"You have the power to make this stop," Lacroix said solicitously.

"I've already told you. I don't know anything." His voice was weak and hoarse. He heard someone move closer. "Your time is over, Lacroix. The Musketeers know you are involved. Whether you kill me or not you will be arrested and tried for treason."

"Perhaps I will find a warmer welcome in Spain."

Aramis remembered that Lacroix owned ships. If one of them was in a port within reach of Paris, he could easily make his escape. He pulled futilely against his bonds, frustrated by the fact that they still didn't know what the plan. "So you're just going to leave your co-conspirators to suffer in your place?" His words dripped with derision.

"They knew the risks they were taking."

"This could have been resolved by peaceful means." There was the rustling of cloth and then Aramis felt hot breath on his face.

"The King wouldn't listen to reason. Insurrection is the only answer."

"How can you hope to stand against the Musketeers and the Red Guard?"

"The attacks on their garrisons will keep them occupied."

Aramis' stomach clenched with fear. This was the damaging information that was locked inside Athos' head. All his Musketeer brothers were in danger and there was nothing he could do to help them. Almost without conscious volition he began to struggle against the ropes that restrained him. He could feel his breathing becoming fast and shallow. "When?"

He heard Lacroix back away and then there was a grim chuckle. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

"Think about what you're doing. Innocent people could be killed."

"Soldiers will die while the people march on the palace and demand concessions from the King."

"What happens now?" He was utterly helpless, his face a mass of pain and the rough ropes rubbing against his abraded wrists. He began to pray that his brothers would find him before it was too late.

"The span of your life is numbered in hours. Supplies are being loaded onto one of my barges and, come daylight, we will sail upriver to join my ship. Until then you are a hostage for the Musketeers' good behavior. Once we are at sea your usefulness will be over."

"My life is worth nothing. You will be brought to justice."

"Don't be so quick to dismiss your usefulness."

"How did you know I was a Musketeer?" It was the question that had been haunting him since finding himself at the wrong end of a pistol.

"I have been to the palace many times, supplying the Queen with silk for her dresses. I recognized your friend, the large Musketeer, and I recognized you."

Aramis silently cursed their carelessness. It hadn't occurred to them that Lacroix was a frequent visitor to the palace.

"Enjoy your last few hours."

Lacroix gave a malicious laugh after which Aramis heard footsteps disappearing into the distance.

TMTMTM

"I told him it was a bad idea. I begged him to reconsider but he wouldn't listen." Athos was out of bed searching for his boots. "Do we know where Lacroix is now?"

D'Artagnan took pity on the older man and retrieved the boots from under the bed. Neither he nor Porthos had embarked upon the pointless exercise of forbidding Athos to accompany them.

"Well there's his shop and then he has three warehouses spread out around the city. He could be holdin' Aramis in any one of them."

"Or someplace else entirely," d'Artagnan said gloomily. He picked up Athos' sword belt and indicated Athos should turn around so that he could buckle it in place.

"Are any of the warehouses near the docks?" Athos asked.

"Yes, the largest of the three." Porthos handed over the paper on which all the locations were listed.

"That is where we go. I'll ask Treville to send men to the others but my gut tells me Lacroix will be looking for a way to leave the city. The quickest way is by boat."

"You speak to Treville. We'll saddle the horses," d'Artagnan said.

The sky was clear and the moon hung brightly overhead, surrounded by stars. It was a beautiful night but Athos' only thought was to get on their way as quickly as possible. He paused to let a bout of dizziness pass before resolutely climbing the stairs. When he knocked on the door he was immediately told to enter. He wasn't surprised to find Treville at his desk despite the late hour. One of his men was missing and there would be no rest until he was found.

Athos held out the list of the warehouses. "Porthos, d'Artagnan and I will check the one at the docks. Can you send men to the shop and the other two locations?"

"Of course."

Athos didn't waste any time in turning to leave.

"Be careful."

He hesitated, nodded and then continued on his way. The horses were soon ready and Porthos helped him to mount. He swayed unsteadily for a moment before gritting his teeth and sitting straighter in the saddle. They kept up a steady pace which aggravated all his injuries but he refused to ask them to slow down. His headache began to increase again.

The docks were never quiet. Drunken sailors wove their way from taverns back to their berths. Longshoremen manhandled cargo to and from the warehouses that lined the quay. In a few hours it would be daylight and the small ships and barges would start to ply their trade, travelling downstream to meet the larger ocean going vessels that couldn't navigate the relatively shallow and narrow river.

It took them precious minutes to locate Lacroix's warehouse. There was no sign of life, no light to suggest that anyone was inside. Athos peered through one of the dirty windows, fearful that they would find nothing other than Aramis' dead body.

"We're not doin' any good standin' out here," Porthos said. He tried the door which proved to be locked. With a ferocious growl he kicked it and the door groaned on its hinges. Two more kicks sprung the lock and the door swung open.

Athos drew one of his pistols, being perfectly proficient with shooting using his left hand. He deferred to Porthos to lead the way though. If they were walking into an ambush it didn't make sense for him to take the brunt of the attack given his injuries. They entered the building which gave every indication of being empty. A lantern hung by the door and d'Artagnan quickly struck a spark and lit it. The large room was filled with crates, all of which cast shadows which they had to explore methodically. It took several minutes to conclude their search which yielded no sign of Aramis and no clues as to where he might be.

Porthos kicked a crate in his frustration. "Now what do we do?"

Athos looked at him somberly, wishing that he had an answer.

Tbc