For some time thereafter Marmion remained silent, circling the room whilst carefully considering each of his prisoners. I felt his gaze like a poisonous shiver down my spine. He looked at us, gauging our responses no doubt, and occasionally stopped to receive a whispered message from one servant or other. Were they servants? Or were they in fact some abominable cult? Were it the case, I would not have been surprised. "The time has come to make choices," finally breaking the unbearable silence, Marmion commanded our attentions upon him.
"What kind of choices?" Speaking first, d'Artagnan watched with a dark expression.
"Simple ones with simple outcomes." Approaching the king, Marmion unexpectedly drew out a coin bearing the king's head upon it, which he presented impassively. "A fair likeness." Then he tossed the coin into the air then caught it, hiding it within his hand. "Call." A dark gloom of trepidation descended upon me, and my throat suddenly became dry and coarse. I swallowed, but it did not ease the discomfort as I looked sharply at Anne.
"To what purpose?"
"That is the fun of the game," Marmion responded, as if it were the simplest thing in the entire world. "You don't know, but you must call." Rather stoutly, the king refused unless he was told the outcome of his choice. All the while, Marmion's expression never changed. "Call correctly and you leave," a slim hope of salvation was dangled within our grasp. "But call wrong and you die." Yet that ray of hope walked hand in hand with the ultimate price. Once might consider death a salvation in itself. In this moment, I did not agree. If I returned to God's embrace now, then I could not protect Anne. I could not protect little Louis, or anyone else I loved. No, death was only failure in this predicament, and I refused to accept defeat.
"You don't mean it?" Now, Marmion's features shifted into a sinister smirk, leaning forwards as he whispered.
"Shall we find out?" Then resuming his void expression, which I could now only describe as unmoving as a mask, he commanded the king to call his choice. Louis did not. He withered, shook his head adamantly. He did not wish to leave his fate to chance. "Is there someone here braver than your King?" Directing the offer to the courtiers and lady attendants, Marmion allowed his voice to carry but never removed his stare from the king. "Someone willing to gamble everything for freedom?" For several long moments, no one answered. Then, to my utter astonishment, Milady answered.
"I'll do it." She started forwards but was forced back into her seat, but Marmion allowed her to be released as his eyes diverted to her. In truth I had entirely forgotten that she was with us, having been so focused upon Anne, the prince and Constance, all thoughts of Milady de Winter had completely vanished from my head. She rose as Marmion addressed her, ensuring that she understood the rules of the game.
"You understand the rules? There can be no second chances, no pleading or negotiation." He instructed darkly. "The immutable laws of chance must dictate the outcome."
"Frankly, I would rather be dead than listen to your endless babble for one more minute." Retaining an air of unaffected disregard, Milady stood against Marmion who once more tossed the coin then concealed it within his hand, inviting her to make her call which would decide her fate. Life or death.
"Milady, don't do it. Don't play his game!" D'Artagnan called to her, and I almost snapped at him to be silent. If Milady wished to gamble her own life, I saw no reason to stop her. Part of me hoped that she would choose incorrectly, for it would rid the world of a blight it did not require.
"I'm touched by your concern," she answered d'Artagnan's plea, the king ordering her not to risk her life but she turned with a handsome smile, remaining completely at ease. "Well, perhaps I can help." It was this suggestion which caught my intention. Just what did she intend? "Heads. I call heads." I did not imagine for one moment that Milady would fetch us help should she succeed. If she followed her true nature, then she would run from here and never look back, saving only herself. Marmion revealed the coin.
"You win." A pulse of anger growled within. Of course. The worst humans always escaped punishment, and Milady was the prime example. "You may go."
"I forbid it!" Louis immediately declared, indignation flaring within him as Milady was allowed to pass Marmion. "If the king cannot have his freedom, no one can!" Speaking calmly, Marmion observed that the rules must be obeyed as Milady was led away. Louis sprung from his chair. "I order you to stay, Milady!" But she did not, and the king was thrown back into his seat after his cloak was ripped away from him, a towering hulk of a man snarling down upon him before he stepped aside and Marmion loomed before the king.
"In this room, I am king," the echoing whisper delivered chills through me, Marmion displaying a severe lack of sanity in his bulging eyes as they stared down upon the king. "And I say she goes." Rising, the mask once more slipped across his features, and he turning his voice to address Milady. "If my men see the king's army approaching, everyone here will be dead by the time they dismount." With that, Milady was taken away and we were left to face Marmion's offer.
One courtier took it, calling heads also, but when Marmion tossed the coin and revealed tails, the agonised despair and terror replaced the arrogant self-assuredness. He had begged for another chance, but there was no mercy to be found in a place like this. He was shot from behind, a cowardly position, but he was dead before his body even struck the ground. I remained seated, still and silent. It was now all too clear just how serious Marmion was when it came to his games. "You think me cruel," he observed, looking upon our faces. "But life is cruel. One person lives, another dies. There is no reason or rhyme to it. We make our choices and then fate intervenes."
"How would fate intervene?" D'Artagnan questioned in disbelief, unable to understand the crazed words Marmion was spouting. I could make no rhyme or reason to them. He had given no clear reason as to why he was doing this, offered no sense to his logic nor explained the source of his anger which was clearly directed upon the king. He seemed to be the main focus Marmion had throughout this entire fanfare, but still I could not understand why. "We all share the same fate, the same luck. There's nothing anyone can do about that." Upon d'Artagnan's words, Marmion simply looked at him wryly.
"But some of us have the dice loaded in our favour by wealth and privilege," he reasoned. "Some of you don't know what it is to make harsh choices. In your ease and comfort, you have never had to face them." Another pulse of anger rushed through me, enough so that I wanted to lunge to my feet and speak of what it meant to suffer and make hard choices. Even for some of us born into wealth and privilege, life was not always kind. I restrained myself, however. I could not draw attention to myself, for I needed to be an unexpected card to be played in this deck. So long as I was unnoticed, whatever I might do would be unexpected, and that could only be an advantage.
"Life is about choice, Marmion. It can't be avoided." Louis spoke in what seemed a rare instance of wisdom. "And some choices are unpleasant and they have to be made, but there are always consequences."
"My point exactly," unmoved by the king's words, Marmion acknowledged the wisdom behind them. "And a king's choices are the hardest of all. I am glad to see you engaging in the spirit of the game." Then, he looked to his men standing behind us. "Take them." A hand dropped down upon me, seizing me by the arm to drag me onto my feet as another grasped Anne.
"No!" The king protested as I struggled, at first attempting to break free but we were only dragged away, the queen, Marguerite and the baby as well. I lowered my efforts as we were forced to walk, but when one man took hold of the prince in his basket, we offered no resistance at all and followed after him, attempting to take the child back into our arms.
"Do not hurt him! Be gentle, please! He is only a child," I begged desperately, curling one arm under the basket to keep it from swaying so dangerously. The man only curled his arm around me to fist his fingers into my hair, pulling sharply until I whimpered from the painful sensation prickling like hot needles into my skull. One of the men I noticed to be Robert once we stepped back into the natural light of day, bringing a refreshing warmth to my soul as I breathed deeply and staggered alongside the one who restrained me.
A word from Robert bade the man release me, perhaps noticing my discomfort. The man snarled but did as was instructed, even thrusting the basket containing little Louis towards me. I swiftly slipped the handles over my arm and held him securely, walking swiftly and without protest as Robert grasped Marguerite and the queen, who attempted to barter with him. "If you let us go, you will be well rewarded. You don't have to suffer for Marmion's crimes."
"Marmion is my brother. I'd follow him to Hell if he asked me."
"Hell is where you're going for this!" In an unexpected display of courage, Marguerite cursed at Robert who remained unfazed by the slight.
"I've been there already, my lady. It doesn't frighten me anymore." Growing increasingly desperate, Anne begged with Robert not to harm her son, reminding him that he was only an innocent babe. "Innocent now, but what will he be when he's a king?" As we walked, I noticed several things of a curious nature. It seemed that the fort was being packed away, chests and boxes lining the corridors with bright bolts of fabrics and various items catching my eye as we were marched into a room. It was sparsely adorned, washed in a plain paint which made it seem larger than it was. No sooner had we be pushed inside, Anne rushed to take hold of little Louis in her arms whilst I immediately stood before her and Marguerite, shielding them from Robert and the other devotee, but they only closed and locked the door with us inside. Finally, I breathed.
"Oh God…what will become of us?" Marguerite whispered, pure terror lacing her voice.
"Do not be afraid, Marguerite," speaking for the first time, I breathed steadily as I began to pace about the room, going towards the window to see if there was perhaps another way out. I drew my knife from within my skirts. "I shall protect you all."
"It is a comfort to have you with us, Madeleine, but please. I must beg of you to protect my son. Do not worry for my life, so long as he is safe, that is all that mattered." Pausing before reaching the window, I looked back upon Anne with a soft, easy smile. My calmness seemed to reach her, and she too began to breathe more steadily as I gazed upon her reassuringly.
"We shall all leave here safely your majesty. So long as I am with you, then there is no reason to be afraid." Despite this, we all jumped when we heard another door slam vigorously, its echoing carrying whereby I tightened my grip upon the stiletto dagger. The twisted hilt was a comforting presence in my hand. I looked to the window and saw we were trapped upon the highest floor with nothing to offer a way down to the ground. Marguerite sniffled and when I looked around, Anne was attempting to remove the stiff, ruffled collar from her dress. She called for Marguerite to help as I continued about the room, searching for anything that might help us whilst also attempting to think of a plan to safely escort the queen and the dauphin away from here.
"I'm so afraid," sniffling weakly, Marguerite removed the collar as Anne bore herself up, looking pale but resolute.
"We're both afraid," she reasoned, "but we must not show it. We have the Musketeers to protect us." Upon this, Marguerite wallowed in despair and hopelessness, which was entirely unhelpful for our situation.
"Aramis. Aramis is dead. The fall…"
"Do not say such things!" Snapping at her, my sharp tone caused her to jolt and stare at me with wide, fearful eyes. "Aramis…will have survived. Do not doubt his capability. He is alive. I must believe this, otherwise…" an unyielding lump formed in my throat which I failed to quell, so I simply shook my head. Aramis lived. I felt in in my bones. Striding forwards, I rattled the handles upon the other set of doors only to find them locked also. I rammed my shoulder against them, failed, then attempted the same with the other.
I tried to pick the lock with the fine tip of my blade without success, it was yet too wide to fit properly. I looked to Anne and Marguerite, observing their hair. All of us were wearing our hair up today for the weather was warm. I asked for a hairpin, anything they might possess, and Anne promptly gave me one of hers. I worked at the lock until we heard footsteps approaching. There was something ominous about the sound, my stomach clenching as I reared back and pressed myself against the wall, dagger clutched in hand. The footsteps grew closer, echoing with the pulse of my blood roaring until finally the seemed to move in another direction. I paused, wondering if I should allow myself to relax, when the bloodcurdling screams of anguish and death tore through the fort. Marguerite burst into tears and Anne swiftly followed even as she embraced Marguerite.
Rushing to their side, I slipped away the dagger as not to cut them by accident and rose up onto my toes to bring my arms around them both. I held them, tightly, firmly, whispering sweet words and promises to them as I covered their ears to drown out the sound of tearing flesh and the dying screams. I did not know to whom they belonged, but there was a cold sense lingering in my mind that we had narrowly escaped death ourselves. I continued to hold them both in my arms, hushing them, consoling them, all the while wondering how I was going to deliver them to safety.
In this fort of games which resulted in death for the defeated…I dared not tread carelessly.