Adélie (A Three Musketeers 2011 Fanfiction)

Rescue

At the cottage, D'Artagnan helped fill in the grave. Aramis and Porthos agreed with Athos' conclusion of the matter. Leaving a small cross to mark Mademoiselle Villeux's lonely grave, the group set off to catch up to the quarry.

They were several hours behind, but it turned out to be a blessing. By riding past dark, using the light of the full moon to guide them, they caught sight of a campfire and were able to move in closer on foot. "They wouldn't risk going to an inn with Adélie," D'Artagnan said softly.

Leaving his three friends some distance from the campfire, Aramis slipped through the shadows to get a look at what they were up against. It was some time before he returned. Porthos was on the verge of suggesting he go after Aramis when the former priest stepped into view.

"This might be harder than we thought," he reported. "There's about ten of them, and most of them are French, not English. Three are standing guard that I can see."

"And Adélie?" D'Artagnan asked as Athos considered the information.

"She's on the far side of the camp," Aramis answered, his tone betraying his anger. "They have her tied and gagged."

Porthos scowled. "That's low," he said. "What trouble can a child possibly give them?"

Aramis shook his head. "You forget this is the daughter of Athos and Milady we're talking about," he pointed out. "I would expect her to be a lot of trouble if she put her mind to it."

"This is what we're going to do," Athos said in a low voice as Porthos and D'Artagnan chuckled. "We can't risk a fight, not with the child in the middle of it. We'll need a distraction so Aramis and I can sneak around to get her."

"Leave that to D'Artagnan and I," Porthos said with a grin.

The three men guarding the camp drew their swords as Porthos weaved unsteadily into the light of the campfire. D'Artagnan held back in the shadows, watching his friend. "Hello, good Messieurs!" Porthos said, hiccupping. "Would you mind if I joined your party?"

Disgusted, one of the men scowled at him. "Get out of here, you filthy drunk," he snapped in very poor French. He was the Englishman.

"I'm so sorry, Messieurs!" D'Artagnan exclaimed, his voice slurring slightly. He rushed up to his friend, ignoring the swords pointing at him. "He got away from me. Porthos, come on and leave these good men alone."

"They're having a party and I want in," Porthos objected, shrugging D'Artagnan's hand away. "Where's the wine?"

Sitting up, Adélie stared at the men with eyes wide with confusion and desperation. D'Artagnan heard the girl make a whimpering sound that nearly broke his heart. His temper almost got the better of him as the Englishman smacked the girl to the ground.

"You are on the land of the Comte de la Meries," a man said, glaring at D'Artagnan and Porthos. "You're trespassing. Now move along."

"Hold on," the Englishman said, his eyes narrowing. He stepped closer. "I know you. I know both of you! You were part of the group that attacked the Tower of London."

At the man's words, the entire group stepped forward. Spotting Aramis reaching for Adélie, D'Artagnan drew his sword. "So, what do you intend to do about that?" the young Gascon demanded, trying to keep their attention. He felt Porthos tense next to him.

One of the men looked back and spotted Aramis. "Hey!" he shouted. "It's a trap!"

D'Artagnan had no choice but to engage the closest opponent. "Aramis!" he shouted in warning.

Swearing in several languages, Aramis lunged to grab the girl. A steel blade slashed in front of his face. Twisting away, Aramis rolled and came to his feet with his sword in one hand and his dagger in the other.

"Get the girl out of here!" the leader shouted. He stumbled back as Porthos' walking stick slammed into his face.

Two of the soldiers peeled away from the group with the Englishman and reached Adélie. The Englishman grabbed the girl and rushed for the horses. D'Artagnan tried to follow them, but was blocked by three men. He glanced around swiftly. Aramis was the closest, but he was blocked by another two men.

Then, D'Artagnan saw Athos burst from the trees, taking out one of the soldiers. The second passed a kicking Adélie up to the Englishman who'd mounted a horse. Swinging wildly, D'Artagnan forced his opponents to back off and dodged to the side to help Athos.

As he ran, he saw the horse stumble and Adélie slipped from the English soldier's grasp. The girl hit the ground, and didn't move. The horse recovered, its hooves narrowly missing Adélie's head. Athos ran over, but the soldier leapt from the horse, tackling the musketeer.

"D'Artagnan, get her!" Athos shouted, shoving the man off him. He scrambled to his feet. Sparks flew as his blade met that of his opponent.

Swiftly, D'Artagnan ran to the child. "Adélie?" he said, turning her over gently. The girl made no move or sound. A musket fired, and D'Artagnan felt the bullet fly past his ear. Ducking down, he scooped Adélie up and ran.

Clouds moved over the moon as the young Gascon dodged through the trees. A couple more bullets flew past him. Abruptly, D'Artagnan randomly chose a tree and skidded to a halt behind it. He crouched down to hide from any pursuers, holding Adélie close.

The distant sounds of battle had faded to nothing, and D'Artagnan wished he'd been there to help his friends. He tensed as he heard someone walking nearby. He flexed his fingers around the hilt of his rapier. As he adjusted Adélie into a position he'd be able to fight back while holding her, his fingers came into contact with something warm and sticky: blood.

Adélie's blood.

A twig snapped only a few feet away. D'Artagnan raised his sword and slashed out defensively. There was a pause and then he heard, "D'Artagnan?"

"Athos!" D'Artagnan exclaimed in relief. The clouds moved past the moon, and he saw his friend standing just beyond the reach of his sword. "I could have killed you!"

Moving forward, Athos knelt down. "Are you all right?"

"I am, but Adélie's bleeding," D'Artagnan answered succinctly. "I think she hit her head when she fell from the horse."

Gently, Athos took the child from his friend and straightened up. He turned and started back with D'Artagnan only a step behind him. They hurried towards the fire, not quite at a run, but close enough to it.