Whatever sleep I managed to gain throughout that fitful night, it was rudely interrupted by the sound of clanging of boxes and tinkling of glass as it shook. I almost cussed at the culprit. It seemed brighter today, more sunlight streaming inside the room as I blinked against a bright pool of it seeping through the den I had created. Stretching myself, my foot caught a chair and caused it to scrape against the floor. "Who's there?" I recognised Charon's voice as I covered my mouth to yawn, wiping the sleep from my eyes as he suddenly appeared at the entrance of my den. "Madeleine?" He spluttered in astonishment. "What are you doing in there?"
"I did not know where else to sleep," something akin to pity rose in his features which eventually soften them. He offered me his hand, gesturing for me to come out so I let him help me crawl free from my safe haven before getting to my feet.
"Did Flea not show you to a room?" Ah, this was not a question I wanted to answer honestly.
"I…may have argued with Porthos a little," I admitted, keeping as close to the truth as possible. Well, I had argued with Porthos, although more accurately one might say I scolded him. "I walked away in a temper and became turned around. This was the first place I happened upon which I recognised." Omitting as much as the truth as I could without revealing anything crucial, Charon looked at me with a slight frown before he seemed to decide that there was nothing amiss in my words.
"Well, I apologise you were forced to find refuge elsewhere, but it was wise to come here. Very few are permitted in here, that is, except for today." It was only then I took note of the crates of bottles which were being brought in and stacked by the throne, a number of people already entering the room with cheers of celebration. "We are celebrating, after all." Admittedly, I had forgotten about the celebration. "You look as though you could use a drink."
"Oh no, I really couldn't…" but Charon insisted, handing me a bottle and encouraged me to try it. The liquid burned at my throat, but otherwise it felt smooth as it created a warmth in the pit of my stomach. It still made me cough. "I think I prefer the wine."
"Then wine you shall have!" The jovial frivolity was a little unsettling as Charon curled his arm around my shoulders and brought me along with him wherever he went, introducing me to strangers whilst constantly encouraging me to drink more. Eventually I had two bottles in my hand, suggesting I drink the firewater and then wash it down with wine. I did not think that drinking so heavily on an empty stomach to be a wise idea, nor was drinking to such excess. However it felt rude to refuse, so I mastered the art of takin a sip of one drink then spitting it back into the other bottle. All I had to do then was act a little spirited to convince Charon that I was steadily becoming drunk. I even stumbled and giggled, trying to act as I had seen others whilst everyone around me became steadily blathered as they gorged on the fine drinks their king had gifted to them.
Admittedly, I was very uncomfortable. Before I knew it Charon was gone and I did not know where I was or who I was with. All of a sudden, I was struck with the urgent sense that I needed to leave. I was going nowhere without Porthos, so I set out to locate him. "Porthos!" I shouted over the merriment of the thieves, craning my neck to try and see over their heads. "Porthos!" I searched and searched, wandering aimlessly through the maze like network which seemed to only send me straight back to where I began. Frustrated beyond belief, I continually cried out for Porthos until finally, I began to find quieter corridors.
The light was brighter and I felt a semblance of warmth from it, being able to breathe as I stepped away from the dark throes of the court. I did not know where I was, but I continued to wander until I heard voices. The distinct undertone of Porthos' voice was what drew me towards them, recognising it even from a distance. It was a relief to hear it and I did not hesitate to move towards it until I heard the voices rise in anger. There was an argument, the other voices distinguishing themselves as Flea and Charon. Then I heard the gunshot.
My entire body jerked at the sound, a pulse of fear soaring through me as my mind immediately thought of Porthos. Next I knew, I was sprinting. I turned the corner as I saw Flea fall to the ground, doubled over with the gun in Charon's hand still smoking from where he had fired. I did not know the details, nor did I care for them. I was still sprinting even when I passed Charon to drop to Flea's side. She was holding her arm awkwardly and stiffly and I could immediately see where the bullet had struck her. Right at the top of her should. "Hold on, I'm here, I'll help you just hold on. Breathe steadily for me, calm yourself Flea…" beginning to guide her to slow her breathing, I remained as calm as possible as Porthos fell to his knees beside her too.
The clapping of boots against stone signified that Charon had chosen to escape, running like a coward as Flea lay upon the cold ground, yet still managing to remain brave. "Go," she urged Porthos, looking at him intently. "Go, I'll be fine."
"I will stay with her and see to the wound, do what you must, Porthos." Adding my own reassurances, Porthos finally rushed to his feet and bellowed Charon's name. I watched him go for a brief second before returning my full attention to Flea. "Alright, let me see where you were hit." As Flea continued to recover her breath, I delicately moved her sleeve aside so I could inspect the wound, but before I could begin any sort of treatment, I sensed someone approaching.
Another masked figure, only this time he carried a blade and a flaming torch. "Gunpowder…" the weak warning from Flea turned my attention, glancing to her before following where she was tilting her head to look at the barrels behind us. Only then did I see the multitude of fuses.
"Ah…this does not bode well for us." It was all I could say, really. Shifting myself ready to hold off the masked man, it became entirely unnecessary as out of the blue my brother Athos suddenly appeared like a knight in tales of old. "Athos!" Bright eyes flickered towards me, ascertaining that I was safe before they returned to focus solely on his opponent. The flood of relief I felt upon seeing my brother was fathomless. It washed over me like a cleansing wave as I felt completely at ease in his presence, even with several barrels of gunpowder sitting behind me. I helped Flea to sit upright then dragged her out of danger as my brother fought the masked stranger. There was no need for me to rush to his aid or leap to his defence, because I trusted Athos. He would surely win, and so I simply stayed with Flea and shielded her as I searched for the bullet in her shoulder, using my tools to pull the bullet free. She writhed and wailed in pain, but it was fleeting as I pulled the bullet out with swift ease.
There was no time to stitch the wound so I simply packed it with what I could reach, tearing my own dress to make swaddling and bandages so that Flea did not loose too much blood. All the while I kept an eye on my brother, but I needn't have worried. It seemed in no time at all my brother had claimed victory against his opponent who was now slumped against the wall. The mask was removed, and although I did not recognise him, it seemed my brother did. "Porthos followed Charon towards the main chamber!" Flea spoke up as my brother quickly doused the flames of the torch which had dropped to the ground.
With all threats now neutralised, there was nothing to stop Athos from striding directly for me. I rose to my feet, an apology already forming on my tongue but I never got the chance to voice it. Athos gathered me up tightly into his arms and held me there, releasing a deep breath as I felt his body finally relax. It was a secure but brief embrace for the danger was not entirely passed, but that did not mean Athos could not spare a moment to examine my bruised and swollen face. "Whoever did this shall suffer my wrath."
"Then I pity their soul," amused by his protectiveness, I urged Athos to continue. "I will stay with her. Go, find Porthos. Keep him safe." Kissing my brow firmly, Athos rushed past me with a shout to the others whom I caught a glimpse of when I looked over my shoulder. They were gone in a heartbeat, allowing me to kneel down before Flea once more, attending to her shoulder.
"Don't worry about me, can you defuse those kegs?" Nodding towards the barrels of gunpowder, I surveyed them quickly.
"Of course, I'm not a Musketeer's sister for nothing, you know." Satisfied that Flea was in no mortal danger, I swiftly defused the barrels so that although still dangerous, they were not fused. We stood guard together until Athos returned to convey his assurances that the plot to destroy the Court of Miracles was ended. Once again I only had half of the story to understand what was going on, but Athos was more than willing to fill in the empty spaces between as he walked with me back to where he had tethered his horse, arm protectively around me all the while.
It was full of intrigue and underhanded plots, the scheme of a destitute old man to gain a fortune by buying the land upon which the Court of Miracles stood, planning to destroy the poverty ridden quarter and sell it to the king for a wealthy profit. How Porthos became involved, was that he had the misfortune to witness the perpetrator murdering his own son to ensure his silence. This was perhaps the most horrifying of all, that a father would so willingly say his own son for wealth. It disgusted me to the core.
As glad as I was that nothing had been destroyed and we were all walking away with our lives, I was mostly grateful to leave the Court and never have reason to return. It was not the place for me. I simply did not belong there, so I happily mounted up behind my brother and wrapped my arms about his waist when time came for us all to ride away. "Do not think I have forgotten how you vanished without a word," Athos warned me as we walked leisurely through the streets. "I am still between anger and relief that you are alright."
"Honestly, brother, it truly was not my fault. I was stolen away by thieves," chuckling into his back, I rested my unbruised cheek against him as I closed my eyes to rest. "Thank you for coming for me."
"Always, sweet sister." I smiled dreamily and found respite in the presence of my brother which brought the sense of safety to my rattled mind.