The Spanish Lady (A Three Musketeers Fanfiction)

Journey

There was no appearance of anyone else from the marquesa's group. By the time evening fell, Athos had returned to the tavern. As an apology, Porthos handed him a bottle of wine and ordered him to open it. A church bell was ringing midnight when Aramis rose from the tavern table. "We should get our rest," he said. "We have a long journey ahead of us."

"Do you smell something?" Porthos asked abruptly, frowning.

"You mean something besides the smell of fish and unwashed clothes?" Aramis responded, raising one eyebrow.

Porthos scowled. "I smell something burning."

Before Aramis could offer a comment, Athos frowned. "I smell smoke," he said, glancing towards the door leading to the inn kitchen.

A shrill scream sounded over the tavern noise. "¡Fuego!¡Que alguien la ayude! ¡Fuego!"

"Fuego?" Athos repeated, getting to his feet. "Doesn't that mean-?"

"Fire!"A half dressed man came stumbling into view. He pointed at the stairs. "Fire!"

Even the drunks were on their feet and rushing for the door. In the hallway, Athos spotted Marquez with a young Spanish woman and Carmen. "Get out!" Athos shouted, pushing the trio towards the door.

"Perita! ¿Dónde está Doña Maria?" Carmen exclaimed, trying to fight her way back in."¡Voy a por ella!"

"Carmen, María puede cuidar de sí misma!" the young woman urged, pulling on the other woman's arm. "¡Vamos!"

Carmen caught the arm of the man closest to her: Porthos. "Por favor! Doña María todavía está ahí! Por favor, ¡ayúdela!" she begged, her tone pleading. "Por favor!"

Porthos looked over at Aramis. "She says someone is still inside," Aramis translated, frowning in concentration. "A lady named Maria. She must mean the marquesa!"

"I'll go see," Porthos said, turning around.

Smoke had filled the inn already. Taking the steps three at a time, Porthos reached the second floor. The smoke was worse up there. Holding his sleeve to his arm, Porthos pushed open each door as he hurried down the hallway. The last door wouldn't budge. Putting his shoulder to it, he rammed his full weight against the wood.

The lock snapped and the door opened. The fire was raging in the room. On the bed, señora de la Vega lay unconscious to the flames surrounding her. Porthos ran forward, scooped her up, and retreated to the hallway. He kept his head down as he moved.

Following the shouts, Porthos found his way outside. He went past Aramis, who'd joined the bucket line that had formed. Athos was snapping orders to the men who kept coming to see what was happening. Porthos spotted Marquez and headed for the Spaniards.

"Perita, por favor, despierta," the old woman pleaded, reaching for her mistress.

Even as he moved, a bucket of water came down on him from behind. Porthos spun around as Aramis lowered the bucket. "You were on fire," the former priest-to-be stated, looking more than a little amused at having to perform such a service for his friend.

There was a gasp from the woman Porthos still held as water dripped onto her face. She opened her eyes and started coughing. "Is she all right? " Aramis asked. "Should we send for a physician?"

Carefully, Porthos knelt and laid the young woman on the ground. The old woman hovered, patting the woman's cheeks. "Send for a physician," Porthos said, looking at Aramis.