A shout startled me awake. I jerked violently as Anne gasped, my hand snatching up the dagger under my pillow to lift it in preparation to strike, but there were no assailants in the bedchamber. The shout came from below. Flinging back the sheet which covered us, I snatched up my belt and quiver, the bow hooked over the strap so that as I ran towards the sound with my brother also appearing, I hastily secured each addition around me. Another shout, as well as two gunshots were heard. When we arrived in the cellar, it was to find Aramis cradling his past lover in his arms, two assassins also dead on the ground.
Seeing them, I hastily held out my arms to block the sisters and Anne from getting too close, holding them back. "Just two of them?" My brother maintained his focus upon the task, the queen's safety, even whilst Aramis shuddered and silently wept. He nodded his head, eventually releasing the sister who had died at the hands of these lesser men. Isabelle, I had heard Aramis call her Isabelle. "We'd better block that up," looking to where the two men had infiltrated through an opening from the ground above, the abbess moved towards Isabelle.
"We'll take her to the small chapel. Come, sisters." Silently we watched as the nuns cradled their fallen sister and sobbed for her departure. I prayed they would find comfort in God, and that Isabelle's soul would find peace. Behind me, Anne gripped at my hand, watching in mute horror as Isabelle's body was carried away. We left them to mourn, not wishing to intrude upon their grief when we were the root of its cause. If we had never come here, Isabelle would still be alive.
Instead, I brought Anne back to the abbess's room and urged her to go back to sleep, to rest whilst she could. "What of you? You must be far more exhausted than I, and you do not look well," Anne worried for me, touching my face with concern. "You look half starved and there are heavy shadows under your eyes. Please, take rest. I can watch for danger, should you wish."
"As kind an offer as that is, Anne, I must see what I can do to help reinforce this place. It would comfort me to know that you are safe in here, resting." Seeing that she could not persuade me otherwise, she relented. "Rest easy. Do try and sleep." Even going so far as to tuck her in, I left the queen to rest, stepping outside where I found Aramis had resumed his guard post. "Oh Aramis…" whispering softly, I moved hesitantly towards him as he stared blankly out of the window. Curling my fingers through his hair I turned his head towards me, reigniting his focus as I drew him from his sombre, melancholy thoughts. What could one say to ease such suffering? A grief I knew all too well…there were no words.
Therefore, still holding Aramis gently in my hands, I rose up onto my toes so that I could reach his cheek and pressed a lingering kiss there. A kiss to comfort and console. I remained until I finally heard him take breath, filling his lungs with air he had forgotten to breathe until that moment. Drawing back, I stroked at his beard, offering whatever small comforts I possibly could. "Will you watch over her for me?" Tilting my head towards where Anne was resting, Aramis mutely nodded his head. "Call for me, if you have need." Kissing his face again, I released him.
Turning aside to leave, I paused when I found Aramis had grasped my hand before it could fall to my side, capturing my fingers to press them between his, squeezing them firmly before he lowered his mouth to them. The warmth of his lips and tickling sensation brought a flutter to my heart. He could not speak, but I needed no words to understand his thanks. I left without speaking again, hurrying to join my brother and scour the entire abbey to possibly entryways and shoring them up as best we could.
We blocked the hole in the cellar and disposed of the other two bodies with less dignity and decorum which was given to poor Isabelle. It was tireless work and it continued throughout the night, even as we heard the sounds of something stirring outside. The assassins were building something, long into the night. My time was so occupied that I did not have an opportunity to return to check on Anne. I knew that she was with Aramis, so I trusted that he would protect her and we had heard no sounds of shouts or gunfire to indicate infiltration.
The sisters and abbess soon retired due to exhaustion, leaving only myself and Athos to stand guard all night. By morning we were tired, but we simply kept on moving. Duty had no accommodation for exhaustion. "We had better fetch Aramis. I do not like the sound of what they're doing out there," Athos reasoned as I rested a moment against him, his arms curled around me so that I could lean my weight against him.
"He has been guarding the queen all night. I expect he'd be grateful for a reprieve." Rousing myself with a deep breath of air, I went with Athos to the abbess's bedchamber, only to find Aramis's post empty. I frowned in confusion, then looked to the partially open door where Anne was sleeping. I moved towards it, thinking that perhaps Aramis was sitting with her. When I looked inside, what I discovered all but ripped my heart out of my chest. Both of them. Together. Sprawled naked and tangled within the sheets. My brother appeared at my shoulder to also look inside, having seen my expression of horror. He too fell utterly still. The sense of betrayal burned through my veins, hurt and pain twisting in my gut like a knife. I had trusted him.
As if sensing our gazes, Aramis awoke and looked at us, meeting our stares before dropping his head back with a quiet moan. Without a word, my brother pulled me away. I became angry, biting down upon my lip until it was raw and stinging. Athos made to touch my arm, perhaps to comfort me, but I pushed it away and stepped back with a shake of my head. "I will watch from here," flicking my gaze towards the window, I moved towards it to take up the post which Aramis had left unguarded for God knows how long.
Probably deciding it was best not to test my ire, Athos left quietly. Soon, Aramis emerged from the chamber, dressed in all but his doublet and weapons. "Madeleine…" he strode directly towards me as I continued to look out of the window, watching for any signs of enemy movement, craning my neck to see if could catch sight of what they were building. "Allow me to explain…"
"You have betrayed me," my low, guttural snarl took Aramis aback, his face paling as I spared him a glance. "I trusted you with the queen's safety and her honour! Now, you have seen to the ruin of both hers and my own." He stared at me in horror. "I was asked to protect her. To serve her. To ensure that no harm came to her in any form. Now, you have compromised the validity of my word, for now I must lie for both your sakes." Grimacing in disgust, I turned to look back out of the window. "Leave me alone, Aramis. I cannot bear to look upon you." For a long while, he did not move.
He remained standing behind me, whether wallowing in shame or regret, or not at all, I could not tell. I did not care to know. He did not try to speak or give excuses, not even to apologise. Like my brother, he seemed to realise that the safest and most sensible option for now was to retreat. Once he was gone, I turned and walked into the bedchamber, where Anne had awoken and was searching for Aramis, holding the bedsheet against her body to cover herself. Upon seeing me, her eyes widened in fear. "Allow me to help you dress, your majesty." Returning to formality, I picked up the discarded dress which had been tossed unceremoniously upon the floor.
Spreading it upon the bed, Anne watched me silently as I then went to the pitcher of water and poured some into a bowl, finding her a cloth before bringing it to her. Tentatively, I suggested that she washed herself, then looked down to her legs. A crimson blush touched her cheeks, but she did as I suggested, cleansing herself of the aftermath from her lovemaking. I did not blame her. Aramis should have known better. Anne did not speak of what I might know, and I made no mention of it either. It was better this way. No one else could ever know.
I helped her to dress, pulling the light gown over her head and drawing her hair free before fetching her shoes. "I will be outside if you need me, your majesty." To which I quietly left and resumed my post. Not soon after, Aramis returned. I heard him halt when he entered the chamber, but he did not attempt to approach me. He went back to Anne, where I heard their muffled voices before they emerged. Still I said nothing. I only turned, curtseyed to the queen, then left so that Aramis could resume the post he should have maintained all night.
My mind was awash with confusion, uncertain of how else I felt about this betrayal of trust. I felt sickened to my core, and yet I somehow recognised that Aramis had needed comforting in the wake of Isabelle's death, and Anne had given him what he needed. I was conflicted, for I did not wish to be angry with him, yet the betrayal still stung. I had to try and put it from my mind. There was still a battle to be won, after all. I went to my brother, finding him with the abbess who was loading a pistol herself, to tell him that I was going to check the cellar to ensure that our blockages were holding before descending downwards.
Nodding to the abbess with a smile to the pistol in her hand, I went to go down below. From outside, I could hear the sound of hammering. As I descended it became muffled as I checked upon the cellar and even allowed myself a small sip of their fine brandy to moisten my throat and warm my stomach. It was wonderful stuff. I should like to take some home with me, if I survived this. The stones and wood we had used to fill the gap in the wall was still holding firm, and I heard no sound from the other side.
I made to leave, taking a bottle of brandy with me, however before I started towards the stairs, I heard the hammering again. I should not hear hammering down here. It echoed against the stone, drawing my gaze towards the torchlit tunnels which seemed to delve deep into the earth. Drawing my pistol, I moved towards the sound, now stepping as silently as possible. From the stairs I moved forwards, noticing shadows dancing upon the walls. My back pressed against the stone as I listened to the rustling of movement. Footsteps and clothing, weapons clicking as the assassins poured into the cellars like rats.
Holding at the corner before the open doorway, I peered carefully to look. Assassins. Too many of them to take on alone. Blood began to roar in my ears as my heart increased its pace. I raised my pistol, preparing to fire it. Still reeling from the hurt of Aramis's betrayal, I was not thinking clearly. My mind had given way to dark thoughts and in that moment, I thought it would not matter if I were to cast myself into the throng of evil and die taking as many of them with me as I could. I would have done so too, had I not heard something to my right and looked to see my brother at the stairway.
Bright eyes gleamed like jewels in the dim gloom, a mask of terror and fear upon seeing me there. Athos…my dearest Athos. All foolish notions of heroic sacrifice fled from my mind as I darted back towards him, reaching for his outstretched hand so that he could pull me to safety a mere moment before the first of the assassins stepped into the corridor to see if it was empty. My hand clamped itself over my mouth to stop myself from breathing, starving myself of air as to not make a sound.
The abbess clutched at my shoulder as I naturally raised my arm to shield both her and Anne, keeping my head turned to watch Athos as he listened carefully to even the slightest shifts and sounds. When he moved, so did I. He stepped into the open corridor and shot down the first assassin as I leaped forwards, moving so that I could bring my pistol around him and shoot the second assassin. Both fell and I continued with my momentum, carrying myself to the open doorway to establish the next point of safety and cover the corridor from the opposite side.
Athos turned to Aramis and the abbess. "You take the queen. Which way?" She indicated forwards. As far as I knew, there was only a storeroom in that direction. One way in, one way out. It would be secure, but it would also mean that we were trapped. "I'll take care of this," allowing Aramis to rush the queen past us, Athos stood his ground as two more assailants rushed towards us. We had no time to reload our guns, so I holstered mine and drew my dagger, only then realising that I was still holding a bottle of wine in my hand. I tore out the stopper and spat it out, taking a swig as the first man came rushing towards me. Athos clashed with his own opponent, leaving me to deal with the other. Having drank a fair gulp of brandy for courage, I flung the bottle at the assassin's face and the glass shattered upon impact.
His nose burst with blood, cuts slicing into his skin as the glass tore across his face and strong brandy poured over him, staining his flesh a reddish purple. He screamed as the alcohol entered his eyes, burning them fiercely. Leaping forwards I thrust the dagger firmly upwards under his ribs, aiming directly for the heart to kill him quickly, but took his sword from his hand before he could fall. I might need it at this rate. I held onto it as Athos dispersed with his own opponent before he thrust me towards the others, pushing me to go first and run for cover.
Running with a leap, I sailed over the small barricade Aramis had created then hurriedly dropped the sword at my feet, retrieving my bow to knock an arrow as I pressed myself against the wall and ushered the queen to move further into the corner away from the danger. Gunshots echoed throughout the cellar, smoke filling the air which clouded my sight as I fired a wild arrow without taking the time to look. In between shooting, I passed the abbess my pistol and gave her the bullets and charges, indicating for her to give it to Athos so that he could continue shooting, but I knew my stores were low. I had used a lot of them yesterday.
All that remained were a few handful of arrows, and I could not be certain any of them were hitting their mark. Once or twice I had heard a scream of pain, but that could have been my arrow or another's bullet. The smoke made it impossible to see, providing the perfect cover for our enemy. At the very least, I hoped that by being unable to see them, they were also unable to see us. A lull in the bullet exchange was a blessing upon my aching ears, a momentary calm following the raucous and furious shootout.
"I'm out." At least it was peaceful for a blissful moment. "How many shots do we have left?" We all looked to Athos who opened his hand to reveal only two bullets remaining. Our prospects for survival were looking less likely by the second. Aramis and Athos then looked to me, to which I turned my shoulder to reveal my empty quiver. I was of no further use to them. "There's at least four of them still out there." Wordlessly, Athos rolled one of the final two bullets across to Aramis, allowing them both to load their last shot.
From where the assassins had formed their line, I heard something clatter upon the ground. Presumably, they must have tossed something to see how we would react. It betrayed the fact that we were now being cautious with our rounds. If they knew exactly how sorely lacking our supply was, they might have simply rushed inside. "Did I mention this has to count?" Stating the obvious, I refrained from kicking at my brother for his dark humour at possibly the worst time to decide to make a joke.
"Thanks for the reminder." Musket at the ready, Aramis turned to await the sight of movement. I did not see the man myself, but Aramis suddenly fired then drew back to press against the wall, spending his last bullet. We looked at him expectantly.
"Did you get him?" He looked insulted that we might question him.
"Athos, please." Looking to the gun in his hand, Athos exhaled softly, remarking that this was our last shot. Our last hope. "If I ever complain about an assignment not being exciting enough…"
"I'll punch you so hard, you'll beg me to kick you." Pulling on my lips I sucked back a laugh as the two men lightened the dour mood with their jests. It certainly helped to ease my racing pulse somewhat as I stood with my back pressed to the wall, dagger in hand whilst the other held Anne's securely.
"I was going to say remind me of this moment but that works too," we stayed silent after that, everyone holding their breath to await the next move. The next strike would determine the victor, and we could not afford to act foolishly. Beside me, Anne held herself firm, rallying her courage in the face of adversity and I admired her for it. Perhaps it was she who was comforting me, at this point. In my mind, I desperately wished that Porthos and d'Artagnan would return. It would be far more reassuring knowing that they were fighting alongside us rather than being trapped down here, seemingly awaiting death.
"Musketeers!" Gunshots followed the shout, and I straightened as a flash of hope lit itself within me. It was as if God had heard my prayer and sent them to me, praise the Lord. The gunshots continued to fire, blast upon blast as they were exchanged, until one shot deafened all others. I blinked. If I knew my gunshots, then that one sounded like Cleopatra, Old Surge's treasured gun. He had let me fire it once, but only once. Turning my head, I gripped the hilt of my dagger tightly.
Seeing this as perhaps our only opportunity, I thought of Anne beside me and the abbess, as well as my beloved brother Athos, and yes, even that wretched cad Aramis. I wanted to protect them. How often had they stared death in the face to defend others? Perhaps it was time someone else stood as their shield. Squeezing Anne's hand, she looked up at me, so I carefully twisted my hand to turn the dagger blade away from my face and pressed a finger to my lips. Then, I let go of her.
Stepping silently forwards, I looked around the stone wall to see that the way was clear, the enemy had not emerged. I took this as my opportunity to move, and so before Athos could realise what he was doing, I stepped over the barrier and quickly moved out of his reach. I heard him gasp my name, straining himself not to shout and alert the enemy as I stood exposed in the open, with only a dagger to hand. Behind me I heard my brother struggle as Aramis rushed to tackle him down, keeping him from making too much noise and putting me at risk, then they both went utterly still.
I moved in a steady creep, placing my toes first to make as little sound as possible as the sounds of the gunfire gradually receded until even the echoes were silenced. The taste of smoke and gunpowder filled the air, cloying my throat as I held my breath and had to struggle not to cough. Turning the dagger so that the blade tip pointed backwards, I lowered my stance so I was all but crouched towards the ground. When I reached the opposing doorway, I sensed rather than saw the last man standing.
With a rush I stepped into view and rammed my arm backwards to drive the dagger into him, hoping to take him by surprise. Pure instinct saved his life, reacting upon impulse to throw himself to the side. Twisting, I saw two pistols in his hands rise to meet me. Dropping my weight forwards I flung myself into a roll as one pistol fired, emptying the barrel of at least one of his weapons. I moved quickly, hearing the unearthly scream of Athos calling my name as he heard the gunfire. With a slash I cut through the assassin's boot at the ligament at his knee, rendering him lame.
Knowing that he still had one bullet left, I used the distraction of his pain to surge upwards and slam his arm against the wall, releasing a cry of determination as I rammed it until he let go of the pistol. The other struck a blow at me which I veered backwards to avoid, wrestling against the assassin before I danced backwards, turning as my feet slid over the stone floor and flung the dagger from the hilt. It rushed eagerly to meet its mark, and when I blinked away the daze which I had fallen into, my mind rising from its singular focus to ease into a calm tranquillity. Exhaling a breath, I heard Athos arrive just as the assassin raised his head from staring at the dagger embedded deeply in his chest. His fingers brushed against the hilt, as if considering tearing it free, but his arm dropped, losing all strength. As my brother seized hold of me and dragged me away, the assassin fell to the ground, struggling for air and wheezing. I had done that.
Athos pulled at my arm to turn me, fiercely shaking my shoulders whilst bellowing in a rage which was fuelled by fear. I blinked at him, not hearing a single word he said. Suddenly he stopped, looking utterly distraught before he crushed me into his embrace. As my senses began to return, I heard the familiar voice of the captain calling our names each in turn, searching for us. It was over. Our reinforcements had come. Aramis called to the captain as Athos pushed me to stand aside, keeping me away from the assassin who was slowly dying to ask him who had hired him.
As far as I knew, he said nothing to betray the confidence of his contractor. I sank back against the wall, too tired to care for the truth in that moment. Treville moved swiftly towards us as Anne, the abbess and Aramis emerged from the storeroom, sharing looks of relief and joy to see our allies in place of enemies. D'Artagnan and Porthos were with the captain, but I did not expect to find One-Eyed Florian and the stableboy from the barracks, Jacques, dressed in musketeer uniform. "You alright love?" Porthos approached me, noticing the dazed look in my eyes and took hold of my shoulders. I looked at him wearily.
"I should very much like a strong drink…and then to pass out immediately." Judging that my humour meant that I was for the most part, Porthos chuckled along with the others.
"We'll get you that drink, darlin'." Opening his arm, Porthos allowed me to sink against him where I let him take the fullness of my weight so that I could rest for a few moments and gather my wits back to me. Upon the ground, the abbess moved towards the dying assassin, speaking a prayer over him to help his soul find eternal rest. As the abbess continued her prayer, we all gathered together, each of us marvelling that we were all alive and unharmed as Treville told us everything he, Porthos and d'Artagnan had uncovered whilst searching for the culprit behind the attack, discovering that our assassins were all men under the command of an Irishman by the name of Gallagher.
"It seems Count Mellendorf hired them to kill the queen, so his daughter could marry the King," the name sounded familiar. There were foreign dignitaries currently in residence at the palace, guests of the king. Count Mellendorf of Germany, if my memory served.
"You have evidence of this?"
"His name is on the ledger," d'Artagnan confirmed as Treville noted that Mellendorf had been openly seeking a husband for his daughter. It was then Aramis turned his attention away from the dying man, touching his face as he began to show his weariness.
"This Gallagher is exiled from his country for being Catholic, his land stolen and given to followers of a rival faith. You'd think after that, he'd have a healthy dislike of all things Protestant. I know I would." As vexed as I was towards Aramis, I begrudgingly acknowledged that he was correct.
"Instead, he agrees to kill our catholic queen to allow a German protestant to take her place on the throne." Even Porthos did not feel that any of this made sense. "It doesn't feel right."
"He's a mercenary."
"Even a mercenary can hold to his own principles," murmuring quietly, the men looked to me and seemed to naturally soften. I must have looked so small tucked within Porthos' arm, nestled against him as I blinked back at them. "Why would someone like Count Mellendorf hire a mercenary in the first place? What is his connection to Gallegher? How did they meet? Where did they meet? This felt too rushed, too chaotic to have been planned in advance," rationalising from what I had seen, I straightened myself so that I was no longer using Porthos like a support beam. "If Count Gallagher intended to have his daughter marry the king from the beginning, then he would have planned this long before coming to France."
"You make a good point, little one." There was little we could do to prove anything, however. All we had were our instincts, but they would not hold up against a court hearing. At that moment, the abbess approached us and informed us all the Gallagher, the name of the man I had killed, had told her that there was money in his saddlebags to contribute towards the repairs of the convent. I raised my head.
"You see? A mercenary with principles. Try and tell me a man like that would see a protestant queen on the throne at the behest of her father." The men went to retrieve the money whilst I tended to Old Surge's injury, berating him for acting so recklessly in his old age. Thankfully the wound was superficial, but it would put him on bedrest for quite some time. This meant I would most likely be taking charge of the kitchens in his absence, a stark reminder that I would soon be returning to ordinary life.
Whilst the men were away, I remained with the queen, sitting with her quietly with her head resting upon my shoulder as we gazed upon the cross in the chapel. It seemed only right that we should give thanks to God for delivering us from death. For a while, we were able to be just Anne and Madeleine. A friend comforting a friend. Soon we would return to being servant and queen, but perhaps…in quiet moments when there was no one watching…perhaps we could still be just Anne and Madeliene.