If there was a time Porthos woudn't be glad to hear Phryne's voice, he hadn't yet lived through it. What was certain was that he was very, very glad this time. Of course he wouldn't have simply let himself be taken, and there were still avenues of action for him to explore, but having someone at his back was a luxury he had grown used to, in his time with the Musketeers.

When the pressure of the pistol against his head vanished, he turned around and punched the man in the jaw with the guard of his sword, immediately leveling his own pistol back at the other three men. "That's for sneaking up on a man from behind," he added, moving sideways so that he could keep watching the three, and have the captain, who was just picking himself up from the floor, and Phryne, standing tall and proud with that impossibly small pistol of hers, in his peripheral vision. "What do you want us to do with them?"