Free Creative Writing Examples n. 15 Book read “For Honor”

. . . As the musketeers dismounted, a young man came running from the stable to help them set up their mounts, unsaddles and brush them before the men took shelter from the hostile elements.

The drenched men entered the warmth of the main hall, and it shut them in, making their wet clothes adhere more closely to their bodies. Aramis, with his customary poise, found chambers where they exchanged their wet clothes for new trousers, tunics, and doublets. They hid their musketeer cloaks deep in their backpacks. The decision had been unanimous: keep their true identities hidden as best as possible. No more publicity that they were Musketeers.

“They seem to have seen our good mutual friend,” Porthos commented as he took a swig of his drink, and both Athos and D’Artagnan looked up to see the tall, well-groomed, dark-haired man enter the room. Aramis’s dark, gold-flecked eyes surveyed their surroundings as if searching. One of the waitresses approached Aramis while Porthos commented on Aramis’s arrival. He offered the man a wink and a smile as he approached him and appraised him appreciatively for a long moment.

“Can I get you something?” he asked with a cute pout. “Maybe a glass of our best beer to start with.”

No. Thank you, mams’elle. I was looking for someone, “he replied with a charming courtesy that was unique to him.

The wench leaned closer to him, allowing him a perfect view of creamy breasts exposed by a low-cut bodice. He momentarily lost track of his thoughts when the tantalizing sight of a well-built woman caught his eye. With one of her slender hands she touched the crucifix that hung around her neck. With another practiced pout, he asked: “Are you a priest?”

“Ah no,” he finally answered. “I have not yet returned to the seminary to fulfill my vows.” He took her small hand and gently pulled the crucifix from her. Still, her hand remained locked in his as he struggled to find a graceful way out of the situation. Wenching was rapidly losing its charm; there was no more emotion in it. No sense of accomplishment or purpose. He wasn’t in the mood for that now either. Hunger and fatigue weighed too heavily on him tonight.

“Well that’s Aramis for you. Always attracting beautiful women without even trying,” Porthos commented dryly before putting down his drink and leaping to his feet as he heard the dizzying music floating in the air. Luxuriously, he grabbed one of the waitresses by the waist and began to dance with her. Kissing her deeply, he spun her around the room, being the center of much attention.

“Looks like you and I are going to be left out of the festivities tonight. Or maybe you’d like to follow suit.” Athos made an enveloping gesture as he addressed D’Artagnan.

D’Artagnan looked suspiciously at his remaining companion. “How much have you drunk?”

“Another babysitter for me, huh.” I suppose someone must take Aramis’s place, since he has been arrested. Athos stopped his friend’s next words with a firm nod. “It is not to worry, My friendI have limited myself to a small bottle of wine tonight. I’m not in danger of mindless drinking or even getting drunk. “

“Good to know,” a strange voice intruded on the conversation, and both men turned their attention to the young man who was sitting in a nearby chair. “Because I think your friend might need your help,” the young man told them, pointing at Aramis. “I think I might need some help to get out of that pretty wench who’s gotten quite clingy.”

“We really would not want to interrupt our friend without his consent,” Athos commented in a voice carefully calculated to ward off the intruder. Almost rude, although no one would have dared to tell Athos to his face, except perhaps Porthos or Aramis, and D’Artagnan, if he had had the time.

“Well, I think it would be beneficial for you to gather your friends together before I do a nasty little scene that I’m sure we all prefer to avoid.” The young man was not at all discouraged by Athos’s insinuation.

Caramba“Good God, Christophe,” D’Artagnan said in a low voice, barely failing to address the woman disguised as Laurel. “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t think of it as a conversation we want to have in this room. It would be a bit difficult to explain things to the satisfaction of all the viewers, wouldn’t it?”

Athos turned his attention to d’Artagnan and told him to go and get Porthos out. After D’Artagnan escaped from his chair and challenged the crowd surrounding the great musketeer, Athos allowed himself a moment to assess the woman who called herself Laurel.

He would be … she had really tracked them down, and they didn’t even realize it. Which might well mean that they hadn’t eluded the Cardinal’s Guard. On the other hand, the cardinal’s guards were quite inept. Laurel anticipated further actions by Athos by jumping to her feet and proceeding to inform him that since he was so reluctant, she would have to go find Aramis herself. “Don’t worry. I’ll come back for you,” he decreed and danced to “rescue” Aramis.

Before he could stop her, she had inserted her body into the small space between the pair and forced Aramis to pay attention to her. “Your friends have sent me to look for you. It is important, and I am afraid it is a matter that must be discussed now and in private,” Laurel said, dodging the waitress with ease and unknowingly, saving Aramis from the problem figuring out how to get rid of the girl.

“You are supposed to be in Paris under the protection of Mr. of Treville, “Athos chided Laurel almost as if she were a recalcitrant child, and her three companions looked on with clear disapproval in their rigid postures.

“I told you before that I am the only one who has the ability to contact my father, and that is a vital part of this mission. And,” she said raising her voice so that men could not leave her out, condescending sons of. . . “I told you that I had a lot of experience in the espionage field and that I would not be left behind. Nor will I be left behind again.”

“Please, Lady Laurel,” interrupted D’Artagnan, “we do not want you to destroy your life and your reputation. We would not see you killed on a dangerous mission. Can’t you go to a safer place?”

With those words, Laurel lost her composure and lunged at the young man and his friends. “Perhaps all of you should let me be the judge of what is and what is not safe and appropriate for me. Who are you three to tell me that I am safer in Paris, close to the cardinal whom both my father and I not only Do we despise? but also distrust? Knowing that, you still have the nerve to tell me what is safe for me. ” He paused to catch his breath, his eyes blazing defiantly. “I can take very good care of myself, as well as any of you. I am a very good horseman and an excellent fencer, not to mention you could lose the cardinal’s guard, but you couldn’t lose me.” . . .

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