A Powerful Little Love

Chapter 45

The realisation that he had been hit instilled a sense of fear in Amorette like never before.  She felt her heart rate increase rapidly in panic, the blood pumping organ almost threatening to burst from her chest.  She did not freeze though as even Amorette might have expected of herself.  Spurned into action by the sight of his blood, Amorette grabbed fistfuls of the back of his doublet whilst he still fired shots with his uninjured arm.  She began to drag him backwards with all her might, letting out grunts of frustration when Athos dug his heels into the ground.

Amorette didn't know how Athos was managing to use his injured arm to reload his pistol but she was almost certain that he wouldn't have enough musket balls to outlast at least five or six weapons firing at them.  It seemed the musketeer eventually came to that realisation himself and began to reluctantly let Amorette drag him backwards.  Where would they go though?  Amorette glanced behind her but could see no narrow alleyways for them to dart into.; there were only wide main thoroughfares.  She guessed they must be closer to the river than she had thought.  If they could make it to the river, they might find help along the way.

Just as they reached a crossroads and Amorette halted as she tried to work out which way they should turn, something large and solid barrelled into them from the side with a strangled growl of "MOVE!"   An eruption of shouting and more shots disorientated them both as Porthos dragged them around the corner of a building and out of the line of fire.  A brigade of Red Guards began advancing down the street the way they had come, towards the protestors.  Amorette did not feel relieved though.  Out of the corner of her eyes she could see others running along the roofs of buildings again.

"Where the hell have you two been?" Porthos growled.

"Looking for her!" Athos replied grimly as he jerked his head in Amorette's direction.

If Amorette had been paying attention she might have been offended at his dismissive tone, but the five young men on the roof opposite them were distracting her slightly.  She raised her hand and pointed as the two musketeers followed her eye line with their own.  The long-range muskets they had set up were likely going to cause multiple injuries to the brigade of Red guards who didn't even know they were there.  Almost as if on reflex Athos and Porthos lifted their pistols and fired.  Porthos reloaded with ease to fire again but as Amorette glanced down she saw that Athos was having difficulty. The hand of his injured arm shook uncontrollably, blood staining the cuff of his shirt. 

Amorette felt her heart almost crack in two for him as he struggled to place the new musket ball into the barrel of the pistol.  He was not the type for panic but he was clearly angry with himself for displaying such a weakness.  Amorette had two options, either help him reload, or fire the pistol herself.  Thinking the latter, a quicker endeavour Amorette quickly reached for his other pistol. 

"Athos give me a pistol!"  she cried when he jerked out of her reach.  He ignored her, still fumbling with the single musket ball.  Amorette met Porthos' eye for a split second before she asked again much more forcefully.  "Give me a pistol!"

Swiftly Athos seemed to admit defeat at hearing the authority in her voice and pressed the weapon he already held into her outstretched hand.  There was a strange expression on his face as his eyes met hers.  Amorette thought she knew what he was trying to tell her and rolled her eyes in defiance as she accepted the musket ball into her other hand. 

Athos had already half-cocked the flint and loaded gunpowder into the weapon so Amorette simply dropped the musket ball into the barrel, rubbed a little gunpowder over the flash pan and released the safety lock.  The weapon being a Flintlock musket, there may have been a need for Amorette to shove a ramrod down the barrel to ensure that the musket ball had rolled as far back as it should, but she judged swiftly that there was little time for that and aimed her weapon at the now retreating protestors.  It seemed Porthos' firing had made them rethink their endeavour somewhat.