Trying so hard to get to that certain point before I go away at the end of the week!
With that in mind, please note that I will be uploading 1-2 chapters every day between now and Friday.
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In this chapter, Porthos and Aramis are sent to arrest Baron Deauville.
CHAPTER 44
PORTHOS
8 DAYS EARLIER
"I am getting more than a little tired of things not going smoothly for us," Aramis complains.
We are flattened against a large wall on either side of the main gate leading to Deauville's manor house and some idiots have opened fire on us.
"We shouldn't be at all surprised by this," I respond and dare to peer around the edge of the stonework. My reward is a shot that hits the other side of the wall so that a piece of stonework flies off. "They haven't got a good aim," I observe.
"Just as well, my friend. We wouldn't want a piece of the wall to mar your good looks," Aramis grins.
"Any more than they are already, you mean?" I refer good naturedly to the scar that runs down my face above and below my left eye.
Aramis chuckles and then frowns as another shot is fired well wide of its mark. "A poor aim or a poor weapon. How many of them do you think there are?"
"At least two, judgin' by the direction of the shots. One's positioned on the ground floor at the window immediately to the right of the front door, and the other is on the opposite side, third window to the left."
Suddenly there is the sound of breakin' glass as a window is knocked out.
"Number three is on the first floor at the window above the door," Aramis announces and, as if to confirm what he says, a shadowy figure fires 'is weapon in our direction and disappears out of sight.
"The locals are not very friendly," I comment.
"It's taken us three days to get here and this is the reception we get. I call it downright rude," Aramis declares. "They don't even know why we're here."
"I'm thinkin' they've seen our number, possibly our pauldrons an' know only too well why we're here."
"Then someone has a very guilty conscience. I've had enough of this!" Aramis straightens up and moves 'is head as close to the gate opening as 'e dares so that 'e can shout out. "We are the King's Musketeers, come from the palace to see the Baron Deauville."
His introduction meets with more gun fire and 'e cocks 'is head, listenin'.
"Two pistols and probably an old arquebus," he states. "The others should have found at least one more entrance by now; they haven't come back."
The attack from the house began as soon as we approached the gates. Wheeling our horses out of sight and sliding from the saddles, we took up our positions. Two men remained with Aramis an' me whilst I sent the other ten off in two groups to reconnoitre the area.
"Lay down your weapons!" I bellow. "We want to talk to the Baron. You're makin' it worse by attackin' us. It won't get you anywhere; you're surrounded."
Aramis casts me a witherin' look.
"What?" I don't think that I've done anythin' wrong.
"Fourteen of us, Porthos? Surrounding this place? We'll look a little silly if they've got twenty or more hiding inside."
"Why would 'e have that many men just sittin' around his house on the off chance that a few Musketeers show up to cause trouble?"
Aramis shrugs and struggles for an answer. "I don't know, do I? He certainly raised enough men to make it worthwhile for him to offer his services to Bircann and march towards Paris. Besides, we're not here to make trouble. We came to avert it by arresting Deauville."
It's my turn for the witherin' look now. "You're startin' to sound just like Athos, you know that? You're getting' too pedantic for your own good."
Aramis' eyes widen. "You're doing it too! It's one of his words."
"Yeah," I acknowledge. "That's where I learned it."
We both grin an' we realise we've just spoken about 'im an' it hasn't hurt quite so much. It's a good moment, thinkin' of the things we've shared. The moment's short-lived though as we hear more shots fired from the rear and side of the house.
"That's the others," Aramis says, all serious now as he primes his pistols. "I'll go to the left; you to the right, Porthos, and you two in the middle," he says to the men who have come close behind us. "On my count," and we all nod as the gunfire gets louder out of sight.
Aramis counts to three and we're off, runnin' through the opening, keepin' low an' firin' at our respective windows, keepin' the enemy at bay just long enough for the four of us to sprint across the open ground to the shelter of the main door an' its columned portico. Thank goodness Deauville hasn't got a big courtyard out the front of the buildin'.
We're reloadin' an' takin' turns to throw ourselves at the main front door, hopin' to break it down as we soon discovered it was locked. They weren't likely to be helpful an' leave it open for us; that'd be expectin' too much an' it's made of solid wood.
"Oh, for goodness' sake," Aramis huffs in annoyance. "Mind yourselves," an' 'e steps forward, points his pistol at the lock before turnin' his head aside, raises his left arm to shield his face an' fires.
"My turn," I say, preparin' to kick at the door. He catches my arm to stay me briefly.
"Same directions as before," he says an' we all nod. "Ready?"
I kick at the frame an' the wood around the damaged lock splinters an' gives way. I throw open the door, the action immediately bein' met with a couple of shots in quick succession from opposite directions. The men on the ground floor are ready an' waitin' to take down at least one of us.
But we're the ones with the trainin' an' the experience. We burst through the open doorway as planned an' seconds later, the two men on the ground floor are down, just as Aramis aims hurriedly at the man at the top of the stairs. The pistol ball finds its mark, the man gasps and does a very dramatic dive head-first down the stairs to lie in a still an' crumpled heap at the bottom.
He's dead an' if Aramis' shot didn't kill 'im outright, then the broken neck from the fall did. One of the other men is likewise dead and the third one wounded. Weapons are removed from all three an' I raise an eyebrow in Aramis' direction; 'e was right on all counts as to their identities.
I suddenly realise that all has gone silent. Surely this little resistance isn't over already?
"Musketeers coming through!" comes the shout an' we lower our own weapons as a few men are shepherded through into the entrance hall, hands upon their heads in a show of surrender, followed by the rest of our group.
The prisoners, all five of them, are made to sit upon the tiled floor, hands still on their heads as they glower up at us from their rough semi-circle.
"Is this it?" Aramis asks.
"Four more are dead at the back of the house," one of the Musketeers – Auclair – informs us.
I look at the array of clothing they are wearing. Two of them look as if they are in a kind of livery; a forest-green, long-sleeved tunic edged in a dark red – staff from the household then. The others are in rough, homespun clothin' suggestin' they're men from the stables or land workers. The fact that we defeated 'em so quickly an' without any injury to us tells me they're untrained so Deauville's militia 'as disbanded an' gone their separate ways. Unless what we've got sittin' in front of us in sullen silence is an example of that militia. Heaven 'elp us an' France if we ever 'ave need to call on nobles if they're all as useless an' neglectful in their duty to train men like Deauville seems to be. Surely 'e couldn't 'ave expected to mount an attack on Paris with this lot? 'E must've had experienced men that have gone.
Deauville! I'm reminded of why we're 'ere in the first place. I glance at Aramis.
"Where's Deauville?" I ask.
There's somethin' to be said for bein' confronted by untrained men an' those without the ability to lie because the moment I speak, one of the older men glances surreptitiously at another man seated at the end of the row and glaring at us in defiance. Aramis and I both see the look, the unexpected betrayal. It's unnoticed by anyone else, especially the man who is on the receiving end of that glance.
I look at 'im more carefully. He's probably in 'is forties an' one of the two clad in the livery, but it doesn't look right on 'im an' on closer inspection, I can see why. It's too big, lumpy in places and obviously thrown on in a hurry. Not all the buttons are done up an' they're out of alignment. I move towards 'im as Aramis trains his pistol on the man. It's only as I grab 'im by the scruff of the neck, haul 'im to his feet and drag him away from the other prisoners that he begins to protest.
Clutchin' the tunic front in both 'ands, I rip it open to reveal the good quality doublet beneath that is responsible for making the livery look bulky an' awkward.
"Baron Deauville, I presume," I say by way of greetin'.
"How dare you burst in here, attacking and slaughtering my men and manhandling me, you oaf!" I've heard worse an' I recognise empty bluster when I see it.
"I am Aramis of the King's Musketeers." My brother introduces 'imself an' I can tell by 'is tone an' the expression on his face that 'nice' Aramis is not puttin' in an appearance. This should be interestin', especially as he reaches into a pocket and pulls out a document.
"Firstly, my colleagues and I were defending ourselves. You are the ones who attacked us. Secondly, the fact that so many of your men were slaughtered is unfortunate, but you picked on the wrong people when you set about the Musketeers. Thirdly, you were manhandled – your words, not mine – because you attempted to deceive us and hide from us and fourthly, my friend, Porthos, here is anything but an oaf."
"Thank you for that," I interrupt, straight-faced.
"You're welcome," an' he flashes me one of his smiles. It's gone in an instant as 'e turns his attention back to Deauville. "Fifthly, and perhaps the most important point, is that I have here a warrant for your arrest, demanded by the King himself and written by Cardinal Richelieu."
"On what charge?" Deauville splutters with indignation.
Surely the man isn't going to be so stupid as to deny it?
"Treason," Aramis declares. "You joined forces with the nobleman, Bircann, and the dowager Queen in an attempt to overthrow our King."
"But I didn't do anything!" Deauville bleats. His bravado has melted away and what is left is not very pretty. He is contemptible.
Aramis makes sure he understands the severity of his position. "That you never had the opportunity to show your colours is testimony of the excellent intelligence that the Cardinal received, so the attempt to seize the throne was thwarted before anything actually happened, but the intention was there and cannot be ignored."
Deauville seems to shrink before our eyes. "I suppose Bircann talked," he spits out. "I heard of his arrest, and I suppose Richelieu has done all he can to break him for information."
"It may be of small consolation to you, but Bircann did not give your name. In fact, your involvement was known about before he was even apprehended."
The Baron's eyes widen an' I bet he's tryin' to work out who might've betrayed 'im. He's obviously not listenin' to what Aramis said about the Cardinal's spies bein' more than good at their job.
Aramis glances down at the document he's holdin'.
"From this moment, your lands and properties are forfeit to the crown. Do you have any dependents?" Deauville shakes his head. "That is for the best. Any wealth will also be confiscated, the house closed down and the staff dismissed."
There are gasps from the men sitting on the floor at this news. How do they think they are going to carry on working with no master? There certainly won't be any payment for their efforts. Besides, they've just attacked a group of the King's men. I try to feel a little bit of sympathy for them – they were only following ridiculous orders – but it doesn't last.
"As well as attackin' Musketeers, do you make a habit of capturin' them too?" I ask.
When the Captain gave us this mission, he said that he wondered if Athos had been handed over to Deauville and brought here.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," the Baron insists.
"Thought you might say that," I respond. "I'm takin' it you won't mind if my colleagues an' I have a good look around."
If Athos is here, we'll find him and we're not goin' to leave a stone unturned.