The Spanish Lady (A Three Musketeers Fanfiction)

Trouble

The rest of the day passed without incident. When the sun began to set, the carriage stopped at another small inn. Carmen herded her two charges to their rooms without delay, and the two young ladies had their evening meal sent up to them.

Marquez retired to his room soon after eating his own meal, declining to have a drink with the three other men. Thankfully, no fire or other emergency interrupted that night. The travelers were back on the road a little after dawn.

Mid-morning, Athos dropped back a ways, to get away from the never ending complaints of señorita Marquez. Even if she was speaking Spanish, the man found the whining in her tone annoying. Aramis and Porthos also slowed their horses to keep pace beside him.

"Now I understand why the Spaniard I spoke to on the docks in Calais offered me his condolences," Athos remarked.

"Señorita Marquez is an unlikely companion to the marquesa," Aramis said. "I wonder why the marquesa brought her along."

Athos looked over, his expression wry. "Perhaps you could ask her when we stop next."

The sharp crack of a gunshot rang out. Before the three men could react, the carriage lurched forward violently as the horses bolted. "Porthos, stop the carriage!" Athos ordered, spurring his horse forward. "Aramis, with me!"

Kicking his horse's sides, Porthos raced after the out of control carriage. Slowly, he gained on it, moving past the main body of the carriage. The driver was slumped over, the reins dangling down. As Porthos moved to jump over, the horses swerved sharply and the carriage went onto two wheels. It teetered precariously for half a second and then crashed onto its side.

Caught in the harness, the carriage horses were fighting to get free. Señorita Marquez shrill screams let Porthos know she, at least, was still living. "Are you all right?" he shouted, pulling his horse up sharply. He jumped to the ground and hurried for the door of the carriage. "Señora?"

As he reached, the door was shoved up and over. "We are all right," señora de la Vega called out, her voice unsteady. Her head came into view. "Was that a gunshot? Is the driver all right?"

There was another gunshot, and the bullet ricocheted, sending bits of wood flying. Porthos ducked instinctively. "Stay down, señora!" he called out, searching the side of the road. He saw a flash of silver from beside a tree, and drew his sword.

Throwing down a musket, a man in dirty, scruffy clothing came charging forward. Steel clashed against steel. Though Porthos initially thought the man was a common highway robber, he quickly revised his opinion as his opponent came at him with speed and skill.

It was only when the man looked over at the carriage, that Porthos was able to make a fatal hit. The man fell to the ground.

Señorita Marquez could still be heard crying hysterically from inside the carriage. The marquesa, however, seemed to have decided to take matters into her own hands. Her elbows on either side of the open door, the young woman was pulling herself out of the overturned carriage.

Quickly, Porthos strode over and climbed up onto the side of the carriage. "Señora, if I may," he said, reaching down. He grasped the woman under the arms and pulled her up. He set her on the side of the carriage. "We'll have you on solid ground momentarily."

"Gracias, señor Porthos,"the marquesa said. She looked down into the carriage through the open door. She shook her head. "Where is señor Aramis and señor Athos?"

Porthos gestured down the road. His two friends were finishing off two men. "Ah, I see," señora de la Vega said, sounding unsettled. Kneeling down, she swung her feet over the side of the carriage and pushed off. She looked at the dead man in the road and closed her eyes.