After everyone had readied themselves into position, we awaited the second charge of the baron's men against our barricade. Treville continued to lead and direct the villagers as I took up Thomas's hunting bow, flexing the wood lightly before preparing to use it against the enemy. "Remember your discipline," Treville instructed as he walked up and down the line, his authoritative voice a vast comfort in a sea of unease. "Think like soldiers and you cannot lose. Hold your nerve. Wait until they're in range."
Where the others gathered at the barricade, I had climbed onto the rooftop of the house between the opening which would have given way to the road, but was currently serving as our defensive barrier. I lay upon my stomach, one knee cocked to help keep me balanced in place as I lay just below the crest of the roof. For the moment I was out of sight, but when the wave of charging roars and gunshots hammered into my skull, I lifted myself up. I held the bow level, drawing back the string as I looked out upon the field.
From this height vantage, my arrow travelled smoothly directly into my first target as Treville ordered the villagers to stand down and save their shots for when the enemy were in range. I had no such trouble, and quickly knocked another. Three more men fell, arrows piercing their flesh in vary degrees of fatalness. Some were only wounded, some I struck with a mortal blow. Having released several arrows in quick succession, it gave away my position to the advance forces.
A bullet scuffed the crest of the roof and I quickly dropped back, hunching down to protect myself from being caught, taking a moment to steady my racing pulse as Treville finally gave the command to open fire. When the villagers unleashed hell upon the invaders, I also returned to shooting my arrows with deadly precision. At least from on the roof, my vision was not so obscured by the cloud of smoke from the guns. It offered me every advantage, and I took such boons gladly.
Inevitably the soldiers reached our barricade for there were simply too many of them, but Treville and the musketeers drew their swords to defend the gaps and low drops as the villagers continued to shoot or thrust with their makeshift spears. I dropped down lower onto the near side of the roof and shifted closer to the edge, overlooking the barricade. From where I crouched, I carefully scanned the line, selecting my targets. I chose those who were the most prominent danger to another.
Seeing d'Artagnan was fighting against three men, I quickly shot one of them down and swiftly reached for another arrow. I watched over the barricade and the villagers, raining arrows down from above until the soldiers once more found my position. I just so happened to look when they lifted their muskets, realising that the barrels were aimed at me. Without hesitation I flung myself backwards and rolled out of their reach, the bullets thudding into the underside of the roof or vanishing into the sky.
Twisting myself over I all but dropped down the ladder I had set against the roof, scrambling down quickly before turning with another arrow in hand. My sight fell upon a pair of villagers facing against one soldier with their spears. He caught one in his hand, slashing his sword to fend off the other before turning upon the one restrained by his grasp. I loosened the arrow just as the soldier made to thrust his blade into the aged villager, and the impact of the arrow arched his back as the shaft split between his shoulders. Diving into the fray, I began to help where I was needed, dragging the wounded away from the battle and commanding for someone to attend to them. I hooked my bow around the quiver to carry it upon my back, setting myself to the task of tending to the wounded as we had prepared a makeshift infirmary in one of the barns.
My sole focus rested primarily upon a young boy, Pierre, who had taken a bullet to the shoulder. He wept bitterly for pain, so I called for whatever the village had to dull the injury for the boy. To my relief, the apothecary carried laudanum, and so I administered a small dose to little Pierre which allowed him to drift into a deep sleep. With him still, I could remove the bullet from his shoulder and treat the wound, needle and thread to hand as my practiced fingers worked with all haste and care.
There were many injuries. Bullet wounds, slashes, cuts, grazes, bruises…I focused on the worst first, those who were closest to death. Soon my hands and sleeves were covered in blood, more red than white, and splashes of crimson adorned my skirts as I hastened to heal and treat with every scrap of knowledge I possessed. From the quiet which had fallen outside, I assumed that the soldiers had retreated for now, but I did not expect this interlude to last long. Where I could I instructed others in what to do, showing them how to bind wounds and treat the simpler injuries, or stabilise the patient until I could reach them and tend to the more serious wounds.
Despite our efforts, several lives were lost. Each new body covered in a linen cloth felt like a personal blow and I had to stagger away for air, covered in blood, bile and gore. Only dimly did I realise that I could not step outside and be seen in this manner, so I slipped out the back and found water to wash myself in. Almost instantly it turned crimson, blushing scarlet as if to mock me for my failures. All the lives I could not save. I sobbed quietly, scrubbing my hands raw until I was practically removing skin.
In anger I ripped away my sleeves, tearing them from my dress and discarding the bloodied rags before doing the same with my skirts, ripping them away from me as to not be touched by the evidence of death and agony which I had witnessed. Some of them had screamed so hauntingly that I would never forget their sound. Shivering in my smallclothes, I grasped onto the first solid thing I could find, a chair, and held to it like it were the only tangible object in the world. A knock tapped lightly upon the door.
Disheartened and in low spirits, I wanted to be alone, but Jeanne called to me softly and asked if I needed anything, her voice full of kind concern. I looked to the bloodied remains of my clothing. "If you would be so kind, I need a change of clothing," speaking softly through the door as I leaned against the wall, Jeanne promised to return swiftly. In order to wait, I sank against the wall and huddled myself into the smallest form I could become. I wallowed in my own disappointment, but reasoned that I could not do so for long. There were still yet others alive who now depended upon me to protect them, and I could not let them down.
I grieved in private, but when Jeanne returned I opened the door and stood with a firm presence, thanking her as I took the fresh clothes. We were of a similar size, I being slightly shorter in stature, but her clothes fit me well and were familiarly comfortable for their simpleness yet practicality. They would do nicely. Jeanne watched me with concern, but once I was dressed I nodded to her reassuringly. I could not falter, I must be their strength if I am to be their liege lady. I had taken a moment to myself, but now it was time to return to work. Thankfully Renard's men had not returned in my absence, so I directed everyone as they were needed. The wounded were kept within the barn for their own protection, though several tried to return to the barricade to continue fighting. A firm lashing of my tongue sent them scurrying back, and Aramis had chuckled upon seeing me boisterously command my patients to tend to their own injuries before seeking to claim more.
This time when the soldiers returned for a third and final charge, we had prepared a surprise for them. Aramis and I as the keenest shots stood at the barricade with loaded rifles, loaded and ready to fire. When the soldiers burst from the trees with their echoing cries, we waited until they were directly within our trap. Treville gave the signal, and both Aramis and I open fired. Both of us struck our targets, but these were not soldiers we aimed for, oh no. We aimed for the barrels of gunpowder below their feet.
Each one exploded upon being struck by the bullet, the blow causing the gunpowder to ignite and burst with flames and smoke, sending any unfortunate soldier within its immediate vicinity to be tossed into the air as their battle cries became screams of terror. Once the last barrel had been struck, both Aramis and I drew our swords. "My lady," leaping over the barricade first, Aramis then turned and offered me his hand to help me step down, and I could not help but laugh.
"Even now you have time for chivalry!" We beamed at one another then together with a twirl of our swords, we charged the enemy. The villagers knew not to open fire whilst we were in the field, only shooting if a soldier reached the barricade and they were at point blank range. My sword flashed, catching the light as I danced through the soldiers who all seemed rather baffled to find a woman upon the field, much less with a sword in her hand. Their surprise created a sense of reservation, hesitating to truly attack until they realised that they were losing their ground.
I fought with all the ease and grace I possessed, confident in my own ability so I never once felt a shred of fear, not even when six charged me at once. I refused to cower or retreat, and so ran to face them head on. At the last moment I darted to the side and rolled upon the ground, rising with a slash of my sword upon their legs, cutting deep into one of the soldiers. I never stopped moving, my feet constantly shifting the balance of my weight as I parried their swords and maintained my focus upon where they stood.
They fell, one after the other, and even when one attempted to strike me from behind, I lashed back with a kick to their stomach and doubled them over before culling them like wheat at harvest. Four blades thrust towards me at once, the soldiers seemingly beginning to realise that they needed to work together to try and defeat me. A brief flash of alarm flared through me as the sharp tips were thrust towards me. Flinging my back down, I arched myself under the reach of their blades and knocked them upwards with my own, gasping for a breath as I looked upon the open sky.
Keeping myself moving, I returned from the parry with a slash, opening a deep gash upon one of their legs then turned as one soldier reached for their pistol. I knocked it from their hand, then quickly finished them off. "Athos!" Hearing my brother's name being called in challenge, I risked a glance to discover Edmond striding up the road with a murderous look upon his face. I swiftly darted away from another sword, continuing my battle but now with half a mind upon my brother.
From the quick glances I gleaned that the baron's son was no sword proficient. He was repeatedly thrown to the ground by my brother, who seemed to only be toying with him. Returning my focus for one last bought, I finished the men who had challenged me, knocking one to the ground with a blow to their face whereupon they struck the grass and moaned weakly before falling utterly silent. Dragging air into my body, I reached behind me to pull my hair aside as it had begun to stick to my neck owing to the sweat.
My arms were beginning to ache, and so I sheathed my sword and turned to find Athos with his sword resting under Edmond's chin, the clear victory of their match. I allowed myself to ease into relief for a moment, expecting that the battle was over and now, we could make our final demands of the baron with his son under the threat of the sword. Then I saw Catherine. Saw her raise her pistol and aim it. Not at Edmond. Not at the baron. At Athos. I froze in absolute horror. "Drop your sword, Athos." I heard her calm demand as my body seized, to afraid to move lest I startle Catherine into pulling the trigger. She halted before Athos. "I can't breathe in a world where your wife still lives," she expressed darkly, "if you won't do anything about it, then I will."
"She's the King's mistress," Athos reasoned simply as I gradually began to loosen the tension of my limbs, allowing me to slowly step towards them. "Neither of us can touch her." I wished I had my bow, or at least a pistol of my own. All I had other than my sword was a knife, which I slowly drew from its sheathe. A small hunter's knife, but it was the only weapon I had that might be of service. I could always throw it, despite my reluctance to harm Catherine. Yet, if she threatened my brother, then despite all past fondness and familiarity, I would not hesitate.
"What will you give me for him?" Catherine addressed Edmond, who remained upon the ground where Athos had defeated him. He looked up at the question, but did not answer. I stepped a little closer. "I thought you meant to give me my life back," she returned to Athos, full of anger and hurt. "That at least might have been some compensation…but you deceived me there too." She indicated towards Edmond. "Perhaps he can give me what I deserve."
"Put the gun down," speaking softly, Athos moved a little closer to Catherine. "We can talk this through." Suddenly, Edmond released a furious bellow and lunged from the ground at Athos.
"ATHOS!" My voice tore into a screech as Catherine fired her pistol, surprised by the sudden attack of Edmond but whether she had done so unintentionally, or with purpose, I did not know. I did not even know for certain who she had aimed for, if at all. All I knew was that Edmond had held something small and sharp in his hand, and now both he and my brother were unmoving on the ground. "No, no! Athos! ATHOS!" Out of fury I had thrown my knife wildly at Catherine to fend her off, the blade careening through the air, and I was dimly aware that she cried out in pain.
I paid her no heed, sprinting to my brother who lay flat against Edmond, until he rolled himself away. A frightful sob burst from my chest as I fell to my knees and grasped at him, d'Artagnan appearing to help me bring Athos to his feet as I demanded to know if he was hurt. There was no blood, no injury. He was unharmed, and I thanked God it was so. When I looked at Edmond, however, I saw a round mark in his breastplate where the bullet had punctured through. Despite the initial terror for Athos I had felt, it quickly dissipated upon seeing an injured patient at my feet.
Falling to my knees, I grasped at Edmond as he struggled for breath and began removing the armour to reach the wound. I fell naturally into the mindset of a healer, forcing all other emotions and thoughts aside to set upon my one task. I could not very well let a man die at my feet now that the battle was over. The victory was clearly ours, and this should not have happened. "Hold still, hold still!" Commanding him fiercely when Edmond tried to fend me off, I grasped his face with one hand whilst continuing to unbuckle his breastplate with the other. I towered over him. "Unless you allow me to treat you, you will bleed from your wound and die within minutes. Now, lie still!" Whether from shock or obedience, Edmond ceased resisting me.
"No, no! Edmond!" The baron rushed upon us, leaping from his horse to go to his fallen son's side. "Unhand him you vixen! Do not harm my son!" When the baron attempted to lunge for me with outstretched hands, both Athos and d'Artagnan held him back by grasping his arms and tearing him away from me as I ripped open the fine clothes Edmond wore. "How dare you…?"
"Unless you want your son to die, then stop interrupting me!" Bellowing with a fury, the intensity of my focus left no room for patience as I began to rip Edmond's shirt where it was clean to press the linen against his chest, easing the gushing of blood which had begun to pool through my fingers, once more staining them a vile shade of red. "I have work to do, so either stand there and shut up, or you will no longer have an heir to inherit your precious lands and title!" This swiftly silenced the baron, allowing me to return my focus to Edmond.
He was trembling, his eyes frantically searching the sky above him whilst they became glassy with tears. "I don't want to die…" he whispered desperately, beginning to weep as one hand gripped at me fervently. "Please, don't let me die…I'm afraid…"
"I will give you every chance of survival I can, little baron," I promised him, softening my voice as I continued to press down upon the wound, stemming the blood. "You are no longer my enemy, but my patient. The best thing you can do now…is fall unconscious." He blinked at me, seemingly surprised by my words so I smiled. "Trust me, I know what I am doing." As his eyes grew heavy and dazed, suffering from fatigue and blood loss, Edmond quickly found the reprieve from his fears by slipping into the calm blackness of unconsciousness.
This slowed his pulse and made his blood seep less, giving me time to take command of the wound and have my supplies brought to me. Jeanne ran for them herself and Aramis quickly knelt down beside me to offer his help. I worried for the placement of the bullet, it was close to Edmond's heart. If the bullet had struck it, then there was nothing I could do for him. At best, I could only pray that the bullet had missed, or caught upon his ribcage. Aramis took over pressing down upon the wound, freeing me to feel under Edmond's back for an exit wound.
There was no indication upon his armour, and there was no hole in his clothing or wetness of blood, so the bullet must still be inside him. Sprinting to me with a satchel in her hand, Jeanne delivered the bag as another villagers brought a skin of water, allowing me to wash the blood from my hands. I had always found that clean hands worked best with wounds, I saw no sense in bringing exposed blood back to a wounded patient, though it was not a common practice. It was mostly because I could not stand the feeling of blood upon my hands for long.
Out upon the road, under the open sky, I worked upon Edmond to remove the bullet as well as fragments of bone from his ribs. It was bloody, gory and messy. If one looked closely, we could see Edmond's own heart beating within his chest at one stage. All the while the baron had watched in agonised silence, his gaze never removing itself from his son. I did all I could to remove the fragments and pack the wound before binding it shut. I could not sew it shut yet for it still bled, I required crushed yarrow leaves to help staunch the blood flow.
Binding the wound as tightly as I was able, I then ordered for Edmond to be carefully carried into the village and taken to rest. If surprised or reluctant to agree, the villagers did not say so. They followed my orders to the letter, allowing me to make for the next injured patient. "Will he live?" The baron cried after me, seeing that I was moving away from Edmond to someone else who yet lived but required attention. "Tell me, will my son live?"
"That will depend entirely upon him, sir." Glancing to Athos and d'Artagnan who still held the baron back, I gestured for them to release him. "If you vow to make no trouble, I will allow you to sit with him." For a moment, the baron stared in disbelief, but fear for his son overcame any resentment or previous distaste for my family and the village. He gave me his word then hurried after his son, allowing me to take up the rest of my duties as Aramis went with him to watch over the little baron's state.
I rallied the villagers to begin stripping down the barricades and to fetch all the wounded inside, even the baron's soldiers. I did not differentiate between friend and foe. Now that the battle was over, there was no need to leave them to bleed to death. I busied myself so readily that I did not have time to face Athos, or anyone else for that matter. I did not know why I wished to avoid them, but there was such an endless array of tasks to be done that it was rather effortless to find an occupation of some kind.
It kept me from thinking of other things, such as how Catherine had turned on my brother, had threatened his life. She made mention of Milady and how she could not bear to exist in a world where she yet lived. I understood such a sentiment, but I had made peace with the fact that I would have to wait for the opportune moment to face Milady. As the king's mistress, she was untouchable. I had not even dared approach her, but merely watched her warily, guarding Anne from her.
By late afternoon, I was finally able to straighten and arch my back, stretching myself from the ache that had settled upon my spine and wiped my arm across my brow to dry it from the sweat. The barricades were down and the village returning to some semblance of order. For now, the unwounded soldiers were held prisoner until the judiciary of Rouen could be contacted. I would have to make a report of this conflict against the baron for the sake of record and lodge a complaint against him. No doubt it would be a long, tedious process, but I expected to be compensated for the damages he had caused, only beginning with the ravaging of the fields.
He owed a great deal, and I would ensure that he paid over every penny this village was owed until I was satisfied. Until then, however, I continued to care for his son. Edmond took on a fever, which was not to be expected, but he responded well to my treatments. Unfortunately, I had entertained a great deal of practice over the years and knew which methods and medicines worked best. Aramis continued to assist me, working comfortably alongside one another whilst Renard sat silently in the corner, watching us.
The bleeding had finally stopped, allowing me to close the wound with my stitches before placing fresh bandages around the wound. He would require rest and a great deal of it. It would be some weeks before he was strong enough to be taken back to his home, which meant I had no choice but to accept him as a rather unwanted guest. He and his father both. "Will…will he live?" This was the only question the baron had ever asked us, each time after we had completed one stage of our care. I looked to him, frowning with dislike.
"He is feverish, but he is a young and healthy man. Providing we continue to keep the wound covered and change his bandages daily, with light broths and sponge baths, we should be able to keep his symptoms under control. It is too early yet to say if he will survive this, this is as much in God's hands as it is mine." Renard breathed slowly, staring at his son before finally looking at me.
"You seem to know your craft well," he noted, somewhat disapprovingly. I scowled in reply as Aramis promptly answered in my stead.
"Our dear Madeleine learned her skill out of necessity, unfortunately. Many a time she has tended to our wounds and illnesses, her hands are as warm as they are tender. I assure you, baron," Aramis smiled at me dearly, "your son could not be in more capable hands." Blushing from his praise, I flicked at Aramis lightly before taking the water bowl to change it. Soon they were to leave, but my brother already seemed to know that I intended to stay. He caught me as I left the inn, having waited by the door to catch my arm the moment he saw me walk through the door.
"Madeleine…" feeling his touch, I stopped. "Is this truly what you want?" I blinked at him for a moment. Then I looked about the village, to the faces of the people who had fought alongside me to defend their homes. I admired their resilience. Their courage. Their fortitude. They were a respectable people, and I was honoured to be part of their legacy. I understood what my brother was asking, and so I looked to him with effortless ease as I answered.
"Yes," it was simple truth. "I believe I am ready to take up that which we left behind. Even if you do not want it, brother, I wish to uphold our family's duty. This is still in part my home." Although Paris was as much a home to me as Pinon, the part of me which had resented its memory had now quietly faded into nothing. The painful memories were still present, but they equated themselves with all the good. "I am ready to be what these people need." My voice was firm. Determined. Resolved. I drew myself up, and Athos looked at me with an expression I could not quite place.
Yet when he spoke, there was the clear glow of pride, and it caused my chest to swell with joy to hear it. "Then, I leave everything to you, sweet sister. Do with it what you will, it is yours." Taking my face in his hands, Athos reached forwards to kiss my brow lightly before resting his head there. "You are a better woman than I am a man, Madeleine. I could never match your strength." My stomach twisted and a hot flush of tears arose, lips trembling upon such words.
"Who do you think I watched to learn such strength and goodness?" Whispering softly, I balanced the bowl upon my hip in one arm so that I could hold my brother with the other, brushing lightly against his hair as we continued to stand with our brows resting upon one another. "You have always been my inspiration, Athos." A shuddering gasp rippled from his throat and when I looked, I saw Athos blink away the evidence of his emotion. I smiled endearingly to him. He coughed and stepped back, clearing his throat to recover himself and return to his natural sombre state.
"I will formally submit an appeal to the king, but it is only a formality. The estate is yours, along with the title." Spreading his hands, my brother bowed before me, and it was a strange sensation to see him bow his head before his younger sister. "Congratulations, comtesse."
"Stand up, brother. You look ridiculous," jesting lightly, I had Athos stand upright, catching a quick smile upon his lips before he concealed it. He delivered his signet ring to me, the seal of our family, and with it bestowed upon me the power and authority of the former Comte de la Fère. The ring felt heavy in my hand, and with it, the weight of responsibility settled upon my shoulders. I did not take it lightly. Thus, I elected to remain with the village even when Treville gently suggested that they needed to return to their duties. Athos was keen to leave but did not wish to leave me behind alone, but softened his concern when Aramis volunteered to remain with me and assist. All the while, I noted that Porthos had remained unusually quiet. We had not spoken a word since yesterday evening. His expression was troubled, and I wanted nothing more than to go to him and try to ease his concerns, but I feared that I would only aggravate his already tumultuous thoughts, so I kept my distance.
I asked only that they conveyed a message to the queen to explain my absence and promise that I would return as swiftly as I was able. Then, they were away, leaving me with Aramis and a village full of people to care for. Once they were out of sight, I set to work and did not stop until Aramis physically carried me away to take rest, stating that I could not overwork myself and that I required sleep as much as the next man. I had protested, but Aramis insisted and remained with me, singing songs until the mellow richness of his voice quelled my protests and my body's exhaustion suddenly overwhelmed me. I was asleep before Aramis had even finished his song.