Rescue Attempt

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"Did my brother know?" Grimaud asked the Musketeers.
"Not that we know of," D'Artagnan replied, the guard still having a grip on him incase he flew for Grimaud. There was no way Lucien could have found out. No way.
Aramis was defeated. Grimaud knew everything now.  He kept his head down and limp. There was nothing he could do. He'd failed Anne. He'd failed the Dauphin. He wasn't a good enough father. Aramis was scared about what his captor was going to do with his new information. He would use it, but how? Would he go to Paris and tell the council so they, as Rochefort had done roughly eight years before, could have both of them arrested? Aramis killed? Louis kidnapped? Grimaud saw the worried expression written on Aramis' face.
"Don't worry. I won't spill... Yet. Get him." The guards took Aramis after Grimaud. Athos and D'Artagnan were alone again.
The guards dumped Aramis in front of Grimaud. His head might have been a mess over the last few days, but right now it was as clear as crystal. All he could think about was his son, and how much danger he might be in. Grimaud knelt down beside Aramis who couldn't move at all. He removed something long and shiny from underneath his cloak. His knife. The one he had used to cut Aramis' face before.
"See I was thinking about using this," he said menacingly running the edge of the knife along Aramis' throat but not actually cutting him anywhere. "But I decided to do this instead." Grimaud stomped hard on Aramis' potentially  broken arm. The Musketeer had never experienced pain like it. He yelled out. He couldn't help himself.
Athos and D'Artagnan had heard their brother's anguished screams from the cellar below. They looked at each other in fright.
"What the hell are they doing to him?" D'Artagnan said spitefully.
"Who knows?" Replied Athos, sinking to the floor.
Back up the stairs, Aramis was shaking uncontrollably with the pain.
"That'll do. For now. Porthos isn't due back until tomorrow and they're leaving the day after that. We still have time. Get him out of my sight. Until next time, Aramis. Remember I have your leverage now. You and your friends plan anything, and I go to Paris." Aramis shot him one last look of venom before the door shut between them.
The guards dropped him in the middle of the cellar and left the other two to it. D'Artagnan could barely look at his friend. It hurt too much. Athos sighed and ran his hand through his hair.
"He's worse. I can't see anything new," Athos said. D'Artagnan noticed all of Aramis' attention was on his arm.
"It's his arm. Grimaud must have made it worse. Aramis, give me some kind of response. Any." But by that point, Aramis had passed out.
"What do we do?" Said D'Artagnan. "Do we move him?"
"No," Athos stated firmly. "Not under any circumstances do we move him." The cellar was flooded with six guards. Athos grabbed the first one he saw.
"No. He's hurt him enough already." Then the guard twisted Athos' arm behind his back. Another guard got hold of him too and manhandled him up the stairs. D'Artagnan was in same position whilst the last two jostled Aramis between them. The three were taken upstairs and Aramis on the ground and the other two held on tightly were locked in yet another competition with Georges. He walked over to Aramis and kicked him.
"It's got too much I see, but this time it isn't about him." He produced a gun and pointed it under Athos' chin.
"You won't kill me," Athos said calmly.
"No. I won't. My scouts have noticed a troupe of Musketeer cadets making their way here." D'Artagnan's eyes widened. "Your wife will have told them on her return to Paris." Sylvie was alive then. That was a weight off Athos' mind. "Once they arrive tell them to go, no matter how much they refuse. Tell them you'll be back in two days, three at the most. Just get them to leave. Or his secret is out." He points to the unconscious man.
"Fine," Athos said. Ten minutes later, a struggling Luc was brought in, accompanied by guards. His eyes fluttered over Athos and D'Artagnan and rested on the unconscious man heaped on the floor.
"Aramis?" He choked, looking for any signs of life in his old mentor. "Aramis! Aramis, no!" Grimaud told him to shut up then ordered his men to let Athos and Luc go. The former grabbed the latter by the shoulders and shook him slightly. Luc's eyes darted between the former Captain and the Minister.
"What happened?" He asked, through sobs, his eyes brimming with tears.
"He's alive," Athos said. He glanced at Grimaud who nodded. "Luc, look at me! Listen to me. I know this is tough, but Grimaud will kill us all, including Aramis if you don't leave now. Aramis, D'Artagnan and I will be back in Paris in two days. We promise you. You can't stay. Tell the Queen were all alive. Aramis'll be fine, Luc. We'll look after him. If you leave now you'll get back to Paris whilst it is still light. Go." With one last longing look at the former monk, Luc left the house. Five minutes later when all five cadets were out of sight, the three were returned to the cellar.
"Luc will be kicking himself," D'Artagnan said.
"I know," replied Athos. "Grimaud's always one step ahead of us. He's too good. He will meet his end at some point though."
"He tried, though. He tried," D'Artagnan said miserably.

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