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Free Creative Writing Examples #15 Read Book "For Honor"
. . . As the Musketeers dismounted, a young lad rushed forward to help secure their mounts, unsaddle them, and brush them down before the men could take shelter from the harsh elements.
The drenched men entered the heat of the main hall and surrounded them, causing their wet clothes to cling more closely to their bodies. Aramis, with his customary attitude, procured chambers where they made fresh breeches, tunics and doublets from their wet clothes. They hid their musketeer cloaks deep in their packs. The decision was unanimous: their true identities should be concealed. No more advertising that they were musketeers.
“Looks like we’ve found a good mutual friend,” Porthos commented as he downed a swig of his drink and both Athos and D’Artagnan looked up to see a tall, well built, dark haired man enter the room. Aramis’ dark, golden eyes surveyed his surroundings as if searching for something. One of the barmaids approaches Aramis even as Porthos comments on Aramis’s arrival. She gave the man a wink and a smile as she came up next to him and sized him up appreciatively for a long time.
“Can I get you something?” she inquired with a cute little baby. “Probably our best tumbler of ale for starters.”
“No. Mercy, mams’elle. I was looking for someone,” he replied with a charming politeness unique to him.
The wench leaned closer to him, giving him a perfect view of the creamy bosom exposed by the low-cut bodice. He lost his train of thought momentarily as his attention was caught by the extraordinary sight of a well-groomed woman. With one of her slim hands she pointed to the crucifix hanging around his neck. At another practice she asked, “Are you a priest?”
“Ah, no,” he finally replied. “I have not yet returned to the seminary to complete my vows.” He took her small hand and gently removed the crucifix from it. Still her hand was wrapped around his as he struggled to find a graceful way out of the situation. Wenching was fast losing its appeal; There was no thrill in it anymore. No achievement or purpose. He was not in the mood now. Hunger and fatigue weighed heavily on him this night.
“Well, that’s Aramis for you. Always attracting beautiful women without trying,” Porthos commented dryly before setting aside his drink and jumping to his feet to the sound of fast music wafting through the air. Lustfully, he grabs a barmaid around the waist and proceeds to dance with her. Kissing her he carried her around the room, enjoying being the center of so much attention.
“It looks like you and I will be kept out of the festivities tonight. Or maybe you’d like to follow their example.” Athos made a sweeping gesture as he addressed D’Artagnan.
D’Artagnan cast a wary glance at the rest of his companions. “How much did you have to drink?”
“Another nursemaid for me, huh. I guess someone should take Aramis after him since he’s taken over.” Athos stopped his friend’s next words with a shake of his head. “No worries, mon m, I’ve limited myself to a small bottle of wine tonight. I’m not in danger of drinking myself unconscious or getting drunk.”
“Nice to know,” a strange voice added to the conversation, and the two turned their attention to the young man sitting in a nearby chair. “Because I believe your friend needs your help,” the youth told them, pointing at Aramis. “I think maybe he needs some help extricating himself from that little wench that’s gotten rather sticky.”
“We do not wish to interrupt our friend without his consent,” Athos commented in a voice carefully calculated to ward off the intruder. Almost insolent, though no one would have dared to tell Athos to his face, except perhaps Porthos or Aramis and d’Artagnan, given a moment.
“Well, I think it would be in your best interest to get your friends together before I make a nasty scene that I’m sure we’ll all avoid.” Athos’ warning did not stop the young man at all.
“Alor MinceGood show, Christophe,” d’Artagnan said in a low voice, not stopping himself from addressing the woman disguised as Laurel. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t think we want to have a conversation like that in this room. Now it would be difficult to explain things to the satisfaction of all the audience, wouldn’t it?”
Athos turns his attention to D’Artagnan and tells him to remove Porthos. After D’Artagnan slipped from his chair and braved the crowd surrounding the big musketeer, Athos took a moment to survey the woman who called herself Laurel.
He’d be–she’d actually tracked them down, and they’d never even notice. Which could mean they hadn’t avoided the Cardinal guard. Then again the Cardinals’ defense was rather inept. Laurel jumps to her feet and prevents further action on Athos’ part, informing him that since he is so reluctant, she must return to Aramis herself. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back for you,” she decreed and danced to “rescue” Aramis.
Before he could stop her, she inserted her body into the small space between the pair, drawing Aramis’ attention to her. “Your friends sent me to fetch you. This is important and I’m afraid needs to be discussed now and in private,” Laurel said, easily avoiding the barmaid and saving Aramis, unbeknownst to her. The problem of finding out how to get rid of the girl.
“You must be under the protection of Paris Sir D Treville,” Athos scolded Laurel as if she were a stubborn girl, and his three companions looked on with obvious disapproval in their stiff stances.
“I told you before that I have the ability to contact my father, and that is an important part of this mission. And,” she said raising her voice so the men couldn’t shut her up and protecting the children. of . “I told you I have vast experience in the field of espionage and I will not hold back. Nor will I hold back again.”
“Please, Lady Laurel,” said d’Artagnan, “we will not have you lose your life and reputation. We will not have you killed on a dangerous mission. Can’t you go where it is safer?”
With these words Laurel lost her temper and tore into the young man and his friends. “Perhaps all of you judge me as to what is safe and not proper for me. Who are you three to say that I am safe in Paris, near the Cardinal whom both my father and I hate. But distrust too? Knowing this, what is safe for me This is what you want to say.” She held her breath, her eyes flashing in challenge. “I can take care of myself, as well as any of you. I’m a very good rider and an excellent swordsman, not to mention you could lose the cardinal’s guard, but not me.” . . .
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