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Chapter 46

"We need a plan," Olaf said. He rubbed his hand along the side of his grizzled features and looked at those around him.

Emry pointed to his wife and children. "Get in the house and stay there. Lock the doors and close the shutters," he said.

Aramis looked toward Allier and furrowed his brow in question. "What is that?"

Porthos and d'Artagnan both turned and said in unison, "What in the hell?"

A single bay mare, pulling a two-wheeled cart trotted toward them. Madame Clorette Buniox, complete with a parasol, drove the cart, while the local prostitute, Millie, and Lilith, the tavern owner's wife, and another woman that all three musketeers assumed was Olaf's wife when they heard him groan.

"We don't have time for this," Aramis muttered in frustration and watched Olaf, who stepped toward the cart and held up his hands to bring the mare to a stop.

"Are you goin' to tell 'em that?" Porthos asked with a cocked eyebrow. He crossed his arms over his chest in frustration. "We need to find Athos."

"We need to know who and what it is we're facing."

"We can't do that while we're standin' 'ere," Porthos muttered and looked at Aramis.

"We will," Aramis said and looked him in the eyes.

D'Artagnan frowned, and watched Olaf help the women from the back of the cart, while Adam led the mare away. The old cart clanged and shifted awkwardly behind her.

"Boys," Clorette said. She wrapped her parasol, tapped it against the sides of her shoes, and frowned at the mud that collected near her heels and muddied the hem of her dress. "We brought some muskets, gunpowder, and musket balls." She raised her eyebrows, looked at Porthos and winked, and then dusted the front of her blouse. "Lilith said you didn't have much," she waved her hand, "and by the looks of you all," she raised her eyebrows and looked at the variety of clubs: beetles, old muskets, large knives, and swords better suited for scrap. She watched several men walk to the back of the wagon and retrieved the supplies.

"You women shouldn't be here," Eugene Ozann said, and pushed his way through the gathering crowd. He was a broad man with dark curly hair and a heavy, wiry beard that was tinted red near his mouth. "We can't be seein' to a bunch of women and tryin' to fight those…" he pointed into the distance, "those murderin' thieves."

"This's as much our fight as it is yours," Lilith said. "And if your wife wasn't home taking care of your children, Eugene, she'd be standing right beside us." She stepped toward him, patted his arm, and said, "You and the others do the fighting. We'll see to the aftermath." She raised her eyebrows.

"Where did you find all of this?" Olaf asked. He peered into the back of the wagon and took a musket and a bag of musket balls and wadding from Ambrose, who handed out the supplies. He motioned for his wife to walk to the house and then glanced at Millie, who winked and then smiled when he blushed and looked away.

Clorette shrugged. "In my line of work," she said, "you get to know people." She picked up her skirts and walked to the house. "Eve!" she called and followed the other women to the home. "I hope you've got the tea on. You've got company!" She smiled when the front door opened and Eve greeted her guests with a welcoming embrace.

Emry exhaled through puffed cheeks and rubbed the back of his neck. "We don't need a bunch of women here," he said and watched the women unite. He listened to their squeals of delight when they admired the beauty of his daughters, and then watched Lilith organize the women to prepare for what was to come: food, drinks, and bandages.

"They might be exactly what we need," Aramis said. "We need to plan in case the brigand returns." He looked at Porthos and d'Artagnan.

"What if they don't return?" Adam asked. He ran his hand along the muzzle of the draft horse he stood beside. The mare had cocked her hind hoof and lazily blinked her eyes.

"Then we 'unt 'em down," Porthos said while pacing. He looked into the distance, clenched and unclenched fists, and then looked for cover should the gang return.

"How long do we give them?" Eugene said.

"We need a plan," Aramis said.

"We need to find Athos," Porthos said. He stopped his pacing and crossed his arms over his chest once more.

D'Artagnan cleared his throat and raised his good arm. "Who can shoot?" He looked at those surrounding them. The men stepped closer, clutched nervously at their weapons, and looked at one another for strength.

Pier, a local miner, said, "We all can."

"Who can shoot well and hit what they fire at?" d'Artagnan clarified.

"We might not be able to shoot like a musketeer," Pier said, "but we've all hit whatever creatures were threatening our stock."

Aramis smiled and said, "Well, then." He motioned his hand toward the barn, the house, and several large trees. "When they return, everyone will need to find cover and stay behind it. Fire your weapons only," he stressed, "when you are sure you'll hit your target—"

"For how long? It could be days before they return," Adam said. "Most of us have farms or businesses to take care of."

Eugene jumped onto the back of a wagon and pointed in the direction the brigand had fled. "I see riders coming."

Olaf rushed to the two-wheeled cart and immediately handed out additional supplies. Emry ran to the house, ordered the doors and windows to remain closed, and then grabbed his old musket. He looked at his wife, his daughters, and the other women, who had paused in their discussion, and immediately went to work preparing the house for the inevitable.

"Be careful," Eve said and looked him in the eyes. "We need you."

Emry flexed his jaw muscles and nodded. "Stay away from the windows." He looked at the other women. "All of you." He turned and closed the door behind him when he left.

The wagons had been moved; the horses unhitched and tied in the barn, and the men found themselves in positions for hiding.

D'Artagnan had stretched his wounded shoulder, winced, but fought through the pain, and loaded his musket. Porthos growled, muttered under his breath, and fought the anger that continued to crawl up his spine. He knelt to one knee, prepared his musket, and then looked at Aramis who blew on the fuse and watched it smoke.

"Why would they return so quickly?" d'Artagnan asked.

"They're making their stand before the musketeers arrive." Aramis cleared his throat and spit. "I will say," he said and looked side-eyed at Porthos. "This will be one of the first fights we've been in where we're not outnumbered."

"With farmers?" Porthos cocked an eyebrow.

"Don't underestimate them," d'Artagnan said. "We shoot straight when we're threatened."

Porthos huffed. "Wild pigs an' snakes don't create battle 'ardened men."

"Who's to say they're not battle hardened?" Aramis said and looked down the barrel of his weapon.