El Impostor Espanol

Chapter 7 - A Marriage of Inconveniance

The land surrounding them was desolate as four Musketeers escorted a rolling carriage through the French countryside and towards Paris. They had been on the road for days; the trip to Modane on the France-Italy border taking almost three days when they had been travelling at full speed, stopping only to sleep and rest their horses.

But now, as their horses walked in front of and behind the slow moving carriage; the journey home was beginning to feel more of a pilgrimage.

Athos and D'Artagnan were up front; leading the small party into a muddy clearing as word of their cargo's need to stretch their legs reached them. They came to a slow stop amongst the high rows of corn and as Aramis and Porthos too came to a rest in the clearing, the door to the carriage was opened and their cargo escorted out by her loyal footman.

"Forgive me." She began as she released his hand and stepped further into the bleak sunshine. "It's been a long journey from Mantua and I long for some fresh air and exercise."

"We'll be at Paris within the hour, Madame." D'Artagnan assured her, choosing to ignore Porthos' raised eyebrow and snort of derision at how fast they were moving.

"I haven't seen the King since we were children." Princess Louise told the group of men as she gazed out across the rolling hilltops around them.

"He's barely changed." Athos mumbled, climbing down from his saddle as she kept her eyes fixed on the countryside of her home.

"Tell me, Monsieurs..." She turned to face them. "...do you know anything of Sweden?"

There was a pause as they each tried to think of some redeeming quality of the place the King was shipping her off to.

"It snows?" Aramis offered with a light smile. "And is very cold."

"It will be my home soon." She said, as though trying to remind herself of the fact as she gazed across the surrounding French countryside. "I wonder if I shall ever see the warm sun of Italy again?"

The travelling party were silent as the princess let her eyes flutter closed against the soft breeze rolling in from the open landscape; only the occasional horses' whinny and rustle of crops filled the air.

"I-" Athos' mouth snapped shut as the rustling of corn crops increased but the breeze died down.

Eyeing the other Musketeers and communicating a silent order to increase their guard, the flapping of a pheasant as it escaped the tall plants was all the signal they needed as their pistols were eased into their grip just as the first shot form their hiding enemy rang out.

"Get behind cover!" Was the shouted order from the Musketeer lieutenant as the Princess' guard fell and only Musketeers remained. "Get the princess back in the carriage now!" Athos bellowed as he too fired shot after shot at the enemy.

"Inside, inside!" D'Artagnan ushered the princess towards the open carriage as chaos erupted around them; horses bucking and whinnying as musket balls flew past them and the dodging Musketeers fighting; hand-to-hand, steel-to-steel – until only they remained in the small, muddy stretch of farmland.

As quickly as it had started, the fighting stopped and rapiers were slid back into their scabbards and bodies inspected for distinguishing marks.

"Spanish." The word was practically spat by Porthos as he held up a coin he had recovered from one of their assailant's purses.

The four Musketeers were quiet as they surveyed the scene; the princess gently asking Francesco; the last of her guards, if he were well.

"This ambush was no coincidence."