This Is How You Survive (BBC The Musketeers)

This Is How You Survive

"That's it... keep talkin' a little longer..." Porthos whispers to no one in particular as he keeps the targeted merchant in sight from behind his hiding spot. He scans the area around him, taking note of the movements of each person.

The streets are bustling with lively civilians as any other day. Some are up on scaffoldings, banging away at the buildings with whatever tools are available to them in an attempt to fix up their small district to the best of their abilities. Some wander around the stands set up by merchants - longingly gazing at the food they can't afford. Most people in the streets of the Court of Miracles consists of beggars, convicts, prostitutes, and thieves - who roam the narrow roads not caring for what others think of their methods of survival. Catching young children suspiciously circling a stand or quickly snatching something from the vendor's stall isn't unusual behaviour. It's common to hear angry merchants yelling down the street and chasing after a thief so usually the citizens don't even bat an eye at the scene as it happens more than one could count daily.

The man Porthos has his eyes on is currently occupied with a patron clutching onto a small purse of coins, eager that they can afford food for the day. Money is a dearth in the Court of Miracles so the only way to survive is to steal. Acts of thievery is what allows Porthos to obtain his needs for the day. It's what he's known and done all his life so far.

The client continues to slowly scan the food laid in front, wondering which they should choose to fill their bellies despite the frustrated merchant's countless pleas for them to hurry. Porthos does another double take, scanning his vicinity to make sure no passing stall owners will witness his act. He reaches a hand out over the crate of carrots stored behind the merchant and quickly grabs as much as his small hands can carry. He swiftly turns to make his dash, a big smile blooms on his face at the certain success. His early celebration is short-lived when a hand grasps his arm during his escape.

"Where do you think you're going little dirt bag?" the merchant scorns.

He effortlessly lifts him off the ground and Porthos growls, thrashing about in a futile attempt to break free from the man's grip. He finds kicking in the lower groin has always been a very effective method for him, but the vendor doesn't allow that to happen as he swiftly swipes back his stolen goods and throws Porthos onto the ground.

He yelps as he lands hard against the dirt road, his face and body scraping across the rough surface. For once, some actually glance towards the scuffle created by the merchant. But only a glance, nothing more.

Having faced situations like this many times, Porthos resiliently pulls himself up from the ground and glares angrily at the merchant.

"Get out of here you worthless coloured brat," the man hisses.

Porthos' fists clench shut as quick as a triggered bear trap. Anger boils up in his system and he directs the energy all to his fists, ready to strike the man. The one thing Porthos cannot tolerate is to be referenced by his skin colour discriminately. He's beaten up many children who have called him "stupid coloured boy" or something of that likeness. But who he's facing now is not a child.

Considering his smaller stature and disadvantage in strength compared to that of an adult, Porthos knows there's no way he can get out of such a fight without getting himself half-killed. He scowls menacingly, angered not only at the man but also at the fact that he's too weak to give the man what he deserves. With one last forbidding glare, he swiftly snatches one of the carrots from the stand and sprints away from the premise.

"You little mongrel!" the vendor calls out as he runs after the boy, failing to notice the approach of another young lad further behind.

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