Chapter 51
The horses were harnessed and attached to the yoke and tree of the wagons. Many of those who had helped defeat Lyam and his men had gone home, only to return to Emry's farm with the intent of traveling to Paris. Not only were they unwilling to allow Lyam and his men the opportunity to escape, they wanted to see them punished and their terror brought to an end. D'Artagnan secured the man he and Olaf had chased the night before, after Aramis and Porthos had gone to search for Athos.
Madame Clorette, Millie, and Lilith had also returned. Knowing Eve would be tending to Emry, they had returned with freshly baked breads, dried fruits, nuts, and meats. They had brought with them enough food to sustain the men on their journey to Paris and their return home. The women of Allier had come together to prepare meals and pack enough supplies for the men while they traveled. Their community had suddenly united, finding strength in what they had accomplished together. They stood together, knowing the importance of duty and survival. Together, they were stronger than they were apart. It was a difficult lesson, learning that one family could not withstand the enemy, but together they could defeat them.
The front door of the house creaked open and Emry hobbled outside. With a cane in one hand, and Eve's hand in the other, he stepped off the porch and feebly walked across the yard and nodded to Olaf and d'Artagnan, who tightened his horse's cinch in preparation for departure. The gold lace and sapphire necklace were tucked away in the bags behind the cantle. D'Artagnan rolled his shoulder gently, felt the twinge of protest from the injury, and then satisfied, he looked at Emry and nodded.
They were ready to leave for Paris.
The sun was rising, and the yellow horizon kissed the blue morning sky. White puffy clouds took on the shapes of ducks and sheep to those with imaginations. The trees were still, and the grasses were silent.
"Look there!" Adam shouted. Standing in the back of the wagon, he pointed toward the riders cresting the hill beyond Emry's fields.
Olaf jumped onto the back of his wagon, grabbed his weapon, and then motioned for the women to get to the house. Eve backed away from Emry and stopped her girls from leaving the porch.
"It's them!" Adam said. "It's the musketeers — it looks like they found him." He jumped off the wagon when d'Artagnan, ignoring his injury, swung himself into the saddle and galloped away.
Emry hobbled forward grasped the edge of the wagon bed and watched Olaf, who stood at attention and watched the riders. Their prisoners turned and watched curiously as they approached.
"Clorette," Eve said and looked toward her. "Watch my girls for me."
Clorette nodded and grabbed her skirts when she stepped onto the porch. "Beatrice," she said, "Hope, come stand beside me." They stood on either side of her and looked toward the men. Millie and Lilith joined her while Eve walked toward Emry and watched and waited.
It was slow progress as the riders approached. Porthos, with an arm wrapped tightly around Athos' chest, struggled to keep him in the saddle. At some point during their travels, Athos had succumbed to his exhaustion. His right arm hung limply over Porthos' forearm, his head slumped toward his right shoulder with his hair curtaining his features.
"Is he alive?" d'Artagnan asked and pulled his horse to a stop and spun him around to walk beside Porthos. D'Artagnan leaned forward and looked at Aramis.
"He lost consciousness about an hour ago," Aramis said, and rubbed the back of his neck.
D'Artagnan wanted to ask a slew of questions but didn't. Instead, he looked at Athos, and then at Porthos, who struggled to maintain his hold and his composure. "Are you going to make it?"
Porthos narrowed his eyes and said, "Yes."
The small crowd circled closer toward them when they arrived. Several men hung back, guarding the prisoners, but Adam grabbed the reins of Porthos' horse and watched Aramis and d'Artagnan dismount.
"Hold 'im steady," Porthos said and held Athos while Aramis and d'Artagnan took a portion of his weight, not allowing him to fall. Porthos dismounted quickly by sliding off his horse's rump and then positioned himself beside Aramis. With a quick tug and sudden shift, he pulled Athos from the saddle. Porthos positioned his shoulder beneath him, stepped back, and took Athos' weight.
"He'll be most comfortable in the barn — fewer eyes upon him," Eve said. She grabbed her skirts, motioned for the men to stand aside as Porthos followed.
Aramis followed, looked at d'Artagnan and said, "Get to Paris… Let Treville know we'll return when we can."
"Aramis?"
"Go," Aramis said and entered the barn.
D'Artagnan swallowed, flexed his jaw muscles, and then turned when he heard Olaf clear his throat.
"Is this who we are now? Is this what we've become?" Olaf asked. He looked at those around him. A few looked shamefully away, others closed their eyes and bowed their heads. "Destroying an innocent man's life because we allowed someone else to dictate to us what we should be afraid of instead of standing by our faith and our convictions?" Olaf frowned, causing wrinkles to form across his forehead. He looked at the team of horses, the men shackled in the back of the wagon, and those who stood guard. "We did this." He looked toward the barn, knowing his words of truth hurt. "We should have stood together when all of this started… instead," he paused, "instead of trying to fight them on our own. We're stronger together… when one of us stands alone against the enemy…" he paused, "we're weak, but when we stands together… we're unbreakable." He looked at Lyam and then at Lucas. "They may have ignited the fire… but we fueled the flames."
A few shifted uncomfortably, wanting to defend their actions, their involvement, but they knew any argument they might make would simply appear childish. They knew Olaf was right. Not only had they attacked the musketeers, but a family died, their village was nearly destroyed, and their fears dictated their actions when they should have stepped back and looked at the evidence. They should have stood united.
"What can we do?" Someone asked from the crowd.
"Get these men to Paris," d'Artagnan said. He mounted, shifted his feet in the stirrups and adjusted the reins. "Testify before the king and tell him what happened, and then you can rebuild your community."
It was something they could focus on, something tangible, and duty driven. Men mounted their horses and stepped onto the wagon to sit guard on their prisoners. Lilith kissed her husband goodbye and watched him take a seat next to Olaf. She stepped back, waved, and watched him slap the reins and slowly the wagon rolled forward. Several others mounted their horses and followed behind.
D'Artagnan took a deep breath, looked toward Emry, who nodded, the women who waved, and then he looked to the barn. He swallowed, fought back his conflicts, and focused on his duty as he nudged his horse's sides and galloped to catch up to the caravan.