Chapter 13

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The streets of Paris were no less crowded when the sun went down, Athos noted as he pushed himself through the crowds filling the market square. He took another drag from the wine bottle in his hand as he approached the woman he was seeking before dropping it onto the cobbled ground.

His finger twitched on the trigger of the pistol in his right hand as he lifted and cocked it at the back of her head. Swiftly he reached in front of her and retrieved her hidden dagger from the many folds of her skirts and threw it to the ground before grabbing her by the throat and pushing the pistol further into her back, smirking slightly at the gasp that left her throat.

"Time to pay for your crimes...Milady." His voice was laced with darkness as she wrestled uselessly against the hold on her throat. He noted a young lad he vaguely recognised from the Garrison stables race from the scene, likely to warn any of the Musketeers loitering at the training grounds at this time of the night, and smirked as he dug the pistol further into the thick material of her bodice.

Moments later Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan appeared in the square, weapons drawn. Their varying shouts of "Get back!" and "Stand away!" filled the air as they pushed through the small crowd that had formed around the Musketeer and his hostage.

"Athos, let her go." Porthos approached him cautiously as he spoke but Athos simply tugged the woman further away.

"She is a liar and a murderer." He stared them down as he spoke. "And...she is the Cardinal's spy." He tightened his hold on her. "And she is family." He said darkly, watching the men exchange glances of shock as he revealed her identity. "Aren't you...Helene?" He spat her name with all the rage he had been consumed with since discovering Thomas' lifeless body on the floor of the chateau.

"Athos my friend, you're drunk; just release her and we can talk." Aramis stepped forward to attempt to calm his friend but his plea was unheard as the woman spoke up.

"D'Artagnan, help me: he's gone mad!"

"You know her?" Athos growled.

Words failed the newest Musketeer as he stared at the sight of the woman who had gifted him the money needed for the competition in which he had become a Musketeer.

"So she's your mysterious benefactor?" Aramis pieced the pieces together and the disgust was evident in his voice. "Are you lovers too?" Athos once again ground the barrel of the pistol into her back at the words.

"Once...before I knew you all." D'Artagnan attempted to explain but was cut off;

"You slept with her?" Disbelief filled Porthos' voice as he spoke.

"You don't understand!" Porthos turned and pushed the youngest man backwards, away from Athos and the woman.

"You kept the truth from me." All eyes returned to Athos as he spoke, his eyes wild.

"No, Athos I swear I didn't know." D'Artagnan pleaded, no longer concerned with the woman at gunpoint but rather focusing on trying to convince his friend and mentor of his loyalty. "I didn't know."

"Well now you must choose D'Artagnan: if you help her, you're not fit to call yourself a Musketeer." Athos watched as the boy swallowed nervously, his moral fibre preventing him from siding with Athos.

"I can't let you murder her." He whispered.

"D'Artagnan, help me." Athos felt his hostage struggle to call out under his grip and watched D'Artagnan's eyes soften and his feet begin to move toward them. Athos removed the pistol from her back and raised it, the barrel pointing directly at D'Artagnan.

"Don't you dare." He growled as Porthos leapt to move D'Artagnan out of the line of fire.

"Let's talk about this Athos!" Aramis called out to his friend. "Put her down!"

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