Chapter 46

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"So that's what you two got up to all of those years ago?" queried Porthos as he quirked an intrigued eyebrow.

Amorette ignored him as she shifted so that she was in a better position to look at Athos' injured arm. "Take this off for me will you?" she asked of him as she tugged on the collar of his doublet.

"We don't have time for all of that!" cried Athos even as Amorette bent down to lift the top layer of her skirts. Tearing off strips of her underskirts she rose again to find him shaking his head.

"Well at least let me bandage it up for you! You can't go walking around Paris dripping blood!"

Porthos nodded in agreement. "You hit one of them Cometess. I'll go and see where he dropped down onto our level. He won't be going far. I'll meet you back here."

Porthos moved off before Athos could argue back. For a few seconds the musketeer watched on as his friend ran down the street, glancing into streets and alleys as he went. When he turned to find Amorette watching him disapprovingly he offered his injured arm freely to her perhaps in a way to placate her a little. She took it without question and balanced his hand on her shoulder so that his arm was hanging between them both. "How did you come to be so far from the river?" He asked just as Amorette began to wrap the shreds of her skirt around his upper arm. "D'artagnan said your horse got a fright and galloped off. I think he tried to follow but you were long gone."

Amorette shook her head blandly as she wound the starch white material around his arm. "Don't ask me where I was when Baxter threw me off or where he is now. I just thought walking seemed a better alternative to standing still in the street. I walked into clearer air and towards the Jardin du Luxembourg and I came across two boys in the street alone. Well; I say boys but the eldest of the two might have been sixteen or seventeen. I walked them home, it seemed the right thing to do because they didn't have any intention of going home before they met me. There was no place for the younger boy on the streets with all of this going on."

Athos nodded stiffly. "You should have stayed in that area of the city."

"I thought it might have died down a little in the time it took me to walk them home and return."

"No," said Athos with a shake of the head. "I think it's more likely to last all night; at least until we've rounded up the protestors."

They both glanced up as they heard quick footsteps approaching, but it was only Porthos returning. "Did you find him?" Athos and Amorette both asked at once.

In spite of their current situation, Porthos shot them a grin before nodding. "Yeah, dropped a few streets away. Seems his friends gave up on him and left. The Red Guards are taking him to the Conciergerie, along with anyone else they round up."

"Why the Conciergerie?" Athos asked as he shot Amorette an impatient look. In retaliation she finished wrapping his wound and pulled the strands of material taut before tying a sharp and tight knot; satisfied when Athos couldn't hide his slight wince of pain.

"Direct orders from the Paris governor; doesn't want this lot of protestors riling up more dangerous prisoners in the Châtelet or the Bastille. He's ordered the Red Guard to take care of things this side of the river, and for the musketeers to secure the Palace. Treville's sent everyone there with Aramis taking charge. He wants us back at the Garrison though."

The two musketeers began to move off quickly, and Amorette had to take two steps for every single one of theirs, clinging desperately to Athos' uninjured arm to attempt to slow him down a little. Every so often they ran into Red Guards who were directing groups of protestors towards the Conciergerie on the Île de la Cité and both men slowed to observe the young conspirators. After a few minutes though, Athos began to tire and fell back to a slow walk at Amorette's side and she watched him nervously out of the corner of her eye, worried that he might drop at any minute. She should have bandaged that arm much earlier, but she hadn't had a chance.

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