The Blood of Musketeers

Chapter 5 - Blood

d'Artagnan looked up at the clock; Athos and Gabriel had already been fighting one another for one quarter of the hour. The Gascon sure that even if Gabriel didn't win in the end, he had more than proved that he was the son of Musketeers.

It was obvious that Athos wasn't going easy on the younger man. In fact, it looked to d'Artagnan, that his friend was going out of his way to try and beat Gabriel into the ground; but what shocked him more than that, was how the young Fontin was dealing with it. d'Artagnan had to admit that he had never seen a fighting style like Gabriel's before. There was a delicacy about the way that he moved, a fluidity. And he didn't move his feet like he or others did, either. The Gascon suddenly realising that it was as if the other boy was dancing the minuet; that without knowing it, Athos had become the younger man's partner. That he had taken on this role, and Gabriel was using that against him. d'Artagnan, Aramis and Porthos moving forward, as the young Fontin suddenly spun and slashed at his opponent's chest. Athos' stopping for a moment to look down at the shirt that was hanging open, his friends just relieved to see that Gabriel's cut had only been to the material; that no blood appeared to be coming from any wound. But the move seemed to anger Athos; his eyes becoming darker. The Musketeer surging forward and bringing his sword down on Gabriel, before reaching for his dagger, and slicing at the boy. The young Fontin pushing Athos away with all his might. The two just looking at one another as Gabriel stepped backwards, and reached for the dagger secreted in the top of his boot. A mutter going around the amassed Musketeers, and d'Artagnan looking to Aramis and Porthos, as it became obvious that Athos' strikes on the boy hadn't been as glancing as Gabriel's had. Blood seen running down the blade of Gabriel's sword and dripping onto the cobbled stones of the courtyard. The right sleeve of Gabriel's pale shirt, suddenly taking on a crimson hue.

"What is Athos doing?" d'Artagnan asked urgently, as he looked to his friends. Aramis and Porthos glancing at one another; neither sure why Athos seemed to be going above and beyond to hurt the young man.

Armis had just thought that it was Athos being Athos when Gabriel spoke about the older man seeming to dislike him for some unknown reason. His friend was reserved at the best of times, and he was sure that it was nothing. But now, he wasn't so sure. Athos had not been like this when he had dueled with d'Artagnan, in fact, he had gone out of his way to not hurt him and had supported him afterwards. But it wasn't the case here. He had hurt the boy; he had cut him, and there was nothing but a look of anger on Athos face. Aramis not sure what poor Gabriel had done to catch Athos' ire. But he knew that he would have to try and speak with Athos about it after all this was over.

"Do you yield.........?" Athos suddenly called out. Everyone watching as Gabriel looked at the blood that was dripping from his father's sword. The boy quiet for a moment, before he looked up.

"A Fontin never yields..........." Gabriel shouted back, then raced over to where Athos stood.

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Gabriel had no idea how long she had been fighting, yet there was a sheen of sweat on her flesh, and her breath was becoming laboured; but she was not about to give up. Athos was good, perhaps not as good as her father and grandfather had been in their prime; but if Treville had truly wanted to see if she was a Fontin, he had chosen the right opponent. Yet she could tell that Athos wasn't there to help bring out the best in her; he was there to beat her. His strikes were heavy, filled with purpose and ire. She still had no idea what she had done to make him hate her; but that was what it seemed to be.......hate. Gabriel suddenly turning and slicing at Athos' chest; the older man looking down for a moment, as his shirt fell away. Gabriel feeling a sense of relief that she had done him no harm, even thought it felt that he wanted to hurt her. Her fears becoming reality, as Athos moved forward and brought his sword down on her. Her own sword blocking the attack; yet she had foolishly missed the dagger in Athos' hand. Gabriel doing her best to not make a noise, to not cry out as she felt cold metal slice at her heated skin. The young Fontin using all her might, to push away the older man, before stepping away from him and pulling the dagger from inside her boot.

She could feel her blood trickle down her arm. She was sure that she could even hear it drip from the end of her sword, as the world around her seemed to grow quiet. She could not lose this; she would not lose this. Yes, Athos was more experienced in battle than she was. Well versed in fighting the enemies of France. But the blood that now feel from her father's sword, was the blood of Musketeers, and she had to prove that. If not to everyone else, then to herself. To prove that even though she were really a woman, she could be as good and as brave a Musketeer as her father and grandfather had been. Whatever pain there might have been coming from the wound, gone, as she heard Athos suddenly shout over to her.

"Do you yield.............?" That word.......yield, made the hair on the back of her neck bristle, as she watched her blood drip onto the cobbled stones. Made her mind go to the best way to end this now. A discreet smile coming to her lips, as she recalled a story that her grandfather had told her about when he had been dueling with a young Treville. How the boy had become too cocky, when he had managed to slightly cut the older Musketeer. His tale about what he had done next, always making her laugh. And even though she was not as big or strong as her grandfather had been, she knew that it was a move that Athos would not be expecting.

"A Fontin never yields.........." Gabriel called back, before suddenly rushing at Athos, grabbing at his legs and using all her might to throw him over her shoulder. The young Fontin quickly turning as she heard a loud groan; surprised herself to see that her plan had worked, and that Athos was on his back, the wind taken from his lungs and his dagger skidding across the cobbles. Gabriel quickly placing one booted foot on Athos' sword and the other on his chest. The point of her father's sword aimed right at his throat. Her blood slowly dropping onto his skin.

"Yield........" Gabriel said, as Athos did his best to regain his breath. His eyes wide as he looked up at the young man who stood over him.

"Do you yield............?" Gabriel said again. Doing her best to control her own breathing, as she waited for a reply.

"I.........yield.........." Athos finally said. A cheer going up, as Gabriel staggered backwards and took a seat on the edge of the well.

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Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan looked at one another as Gabriel flipped Athos over his shoulder, then turned and pinned the older man to the floor. Shocked not only by the move from the boy; but also, the fact that Athos had just yielded to the younger man. The three of them racing over as the other man cheered. d'Artagnan and Porthos helping Athos from the ground, while Aramis made his way over to Gabriel, hoping to get a look at the young Fontin's wound. None of them noticing that the captain had just called for everyone to disperse before making his way over to the victorious boy.

"Well, there is no denying that you are a Fontin, young man. Your grandfather used the same trick on me, when I was a young recruit. Knocked the air right out of me..........." Treville said. And amused snort coming though his nose, as he thought back to his own fight.

"Let Aramis look at your wound, and then get yourself cleaned up. You did well........." The captain continued, placing a hand on the heavily breathing boy's shoulder. Giving Aramis a look, before making his way back to his office.

"Here.........." Aramis said, as he tried to take Gabriel's arm.

"I am fine, Aramis, really. There was an old woman in a village near where we lived, she taught me about healing herbs. I'll take care of it myself...........but thank you............" Gabriel explained, giving the older man a reassuring smile, as she pulled her arm to her bound chest. Aramis not liking it, but if that was what he wanted....... The pair of them looking over as they watched Porthos and d'Artagnan dust off Athos. Their friend pushing their hands away, before glaring at Gabriel and then storming out of the courtyard.

"I........I'll go and speak to him." Said a shocked Aramis, as he saw the hurt look in Gabriel's eyes. Giving the young Fontin a soft smile before going after Athos. Leaving Porthos and d'Artagnan, to come over and help Gabriel.