Chapter Three

'Why is Aramis staring out of the window?' asked Athos quietly.

Porthos looked around to find a sleepy looking Athos watching Aramis who was stood by the only unshuttered window in the tavern. It was nearly dark outside, and the evening had turned quite cold in the previous couple of hours.

Porthos was not sure how Athos would react when they told him the d'Artagnan had not returned with the horses. They had become increasingly worried about their friend as the hours ticked by. Aramis had paced up and down a bit before stopping by the window and standing a lonely watch out into the increasing darkness.

They had enjoyed the tavern keeper's hospitality whilst they waited for d'Artagnan to return. Florence had brought them stew and a broth for Athos when he had woken a couple of hours before. Athos had stopped shaking but was still feeling the effects of his misadventure in the river. Their own clothes had dried quickly in the warm kitchen and although they were wearing borrowed boots both Athos and Porthos had been able to put their own breeches and doublets back on.

'Where is d'Artagnan?' Athos asked.

Porthos looked back to his friend. Athos had leaned forward in the chair, allowing the blanket to slip from his shoulders as he looked around the room.

'He's not back yet,' said Aramis without turning from the window. 'I think it's time we searched for him. I don't like it. Something's happened.'

Porthos had been feeling the same way for a few minutes. The young Musketeer should not have taken more than a couple of hours to get back to the spot where the horses would be and to return with them. If he could not find all four, he would have returned with the ones he could find. He would not deliberately have stayed away, knowing that they would be worried about him. The night was cold, he could not stay out as he was. If he had not got back to the horses, he would not even have his cloak. His doublet would keep him warm to a certain extent but not enough for the current temperature.

'If you are going to search,' said Athos. 'I am coming with you.'

MMMM

D'Artagnan shivered, he leaned on the tree with his eyes screwed shut, trying to control his breathing. He had tried to put weight on his left foot again and was now paying the price.

He had managed to hop, crawl and scramble about one hundred yards from the place he was attacked. He was fairly sure he was heading in the direction of the village. He was also fairly sure he was not going to make it there quickly.

It was no use, he was in far too much pain to go on. He slowly sat down and twisted around to lean on the tree. He looked at his feet and ankles. His left ankle was swollen where he had turned it. He was sure it was not broken. Both his feet were covered in cuts and grazes from his pitiful attempts to walk.

He wrapped his arms around himself. The shivering had started pretty quickly when the bandits had left.

D'Artagnan wondered if his brothers were looking for him? He knew they would look for him. But how long would it be before they started, and how long before they found him?

MMMM

'You can't come, Athos, you're not fit for going out there yet,' protested Aramis.

'I have warmed up considerably. I am coming with you,' said Athos firmly as he pushed himself up to stand.

He watched Aramis glance at Porthos. Athos glared at Porthos before the Musketeer could say anything.

'We'll need the help. Aramis, we'll need the help. Everyone's gone to bed, we can't ask any more of these people. For all we know we'll meet him as soon as we leave. Let him come with us.'

Athos watched Aramis trying to come up with a reason to stop him from joining the search for their missing brother.

'Alright, but you'll wear this,' he said picking up the cloak that Joubert had left for him.

The thick black cloak had been left neatly folded on a table in case Athos needed another layer or had to step out of the tavern during the night.

Athos nodded as Aramis picked up the cloak and swung it around his shoulders. He allowed Aramis to button the cloak fully. Aramis glared at him the entire time, making his feeling very clear. Athos maintained eye contact with his friend, allowing him to know that the matter was settled regardless of what the field medic felt.

Once Aramis was satisfied that Athos was as warm as he could be, he stepped back and looked across at Porthos who was already by the door.

'We'll start by heading back to where we dragged Athos out of the river,' said Porthos, 'and follow the route he would have taken. If we walk within the sound of a gunshot we can split up.'

Athos nodded his agreement to the plan. Aramis scowled at him again but nodded as well.

Porthos pulled the door open. They walked out into the cold dark night. Each man hoping nothing untoward had happened to their friend.

MMMM

Porthos glanced to his right, he could not see Athos any more. Aramis had disappeared from sight a few minutes before. The three of them were working their way through the wooded area along the side of the river. Porthos was closest to the river, Aramis furthest away with Athos between them. Athos had not argued with Aramis when he had told, not asked, told, the recovering man that he would have to be in the middle of their search pattern.

They had decided that they would search the area up to the area of the attack. If they had not found d'Artagnan, they would have to return to the tavern, wait until first light and hope the villagers would help them with a proper search the next day.

The moon was full giving them enough light to see well enough to spot their missing brother if he was collapsed somewhere.

Porthos hoped they would not find d'Artagnan in any other state than healthy. But the longer he was missing the more chance there was that he was not well. Something must have happened to him.

The worry weighing heavy in his mind, Porthos continued to move silently a few yards from the edge of the river. The river itself was not too noisy, which Porthos was pleased about.

His attention was drawn to a glint of light. An unnatural glint. The moonlight was being reflected off steel.

Porthos was tempted to rush forward, but some inner sense told him not to. He moved silently, carefully. As he closed the gap between himself and the sword, he realised the weapon belonged to d'Artagnan. But d'Artagnan was not with the weapon.

Two men were sat with their backs to him. They were talking quietly. Porthos took in the scene. One of the men was wearing d'Artagnan's doublet. The missing man's boots were lying in front of the men, his weapons belt in a tangle a couple of yards away. There was no sign of d'Artagnan.

'The sword will be worth something,' said one of the men.

'Shame 'is boots was too small,' said the other.

The first man chuckled, 'you shouldn't have such big feet then.'

Porthos pulled his main gauche slowly from his belt. He knew he would have to be quick, he knew he would have to neutralise the men as fast as he could.

With lightning speed, he punched the man wearing d'Artagnan's doublet in the back of the head, sending the man toppling to the ground. The second man had barely reacted when Porthos pushed his dagger into his throat.

The man made a gurgling sound, his hands went to his neck in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Porthos pulled the blade from the man and shoved him aside before grabbing the second man who was trying to pull himself up, the punch to the back of the head having left him stunned.

Porthos pushed the man over onto his back, quickly straddling the man pinning him down. The bloody blade was pressed against the second man's neck.

'Where is he?'

The man stared at him, fear in his eyes. Alone, the weedy man knew he was no match for a Musketeer.

'We left him by the river…'

Porthos stared at the man.

'Did you kill him?'

Porthos pressed the blade against the skin. The terrified man's eyes widened further. He shook his head slightly.

'He was injured…'urt 'is leg...bit further along the river. He was alive when we left 'im.'

Porthos looked along the river. Satisfied that he was not going to get anything further from the bandit he twisted the knife out of the way, pulled back his arm and punched the man.

The now unconscious man did not protest as Porthos divested him of the stolen jacket.

A gunshot to his left was a sound that he both welcomed and dreaded at the same time.

MMMM

Aramis had searched thoroughly, checking each hollow in the ground, scouting between exposed roots and pushing apart thick undergrowth.

He was concerned. It was cold, if d'Artagnan had been injured and was lying out in the open, exposed to the elements, he would suffer. They needed to find him.

Aramis tried not to consider the prospect that they could already be too late. If whatever had happened to d'Artagnan happened soon after they parted the Musketeer could have been suffering for several hours already.

A soft snort and the unmistakable sound of a hoof pawing at the ground had Aramis increase his pace for a few seconds. Sure enough, his mare had sensed his approach. She and the other three horses were stood close together.

The mare stepped forward and nuzzled at Aramis' outstretched hand.

'Good girl,' said Aramis softly.

He wandered between the four horses, briefly checking them for any injuries. All their gear was still where it was supposed to be.

He took the reins of his horse and started to lead her back the way he had come. The other horses followed their stablemate.

The horses whinnied slightly when a gunshot rang out across the darkening evening.

MMMM

Before Aramis had continued on towards his own search area, he had paused for a few seconds eyeing Athos carefully.

'I will be fine. I am too concerned with d'Artagnan's whereabouts to collapse. I am not about to add to our problems again.'

Aramis had nodded once before continuing on. Athos watching him go. The Musketeer was still favouring his left arm, his right unconsciously wrapped around his chest. Having three slightly unfit men searching for a missing forth really was not ideal. But they would do it, nonetheless.

He started his own search. The full moon was certainly helpful, the darkening sky would have left them unable to search otherwise.

Despite his reassurances to Aramis and Porthos he did still feel cold. The cloak was a necessity. He pulled it closer around himself. He had been relieved when Florence had appeared before she retired to bed with their dried-out clothes. Slipping back into his own breeches and doublet had been welcome. The fabric of the borrowed clothes had made him feel exposed. The leather was a comforting feeling and, now that it was dry would offer him more warmth than the borrowed breeches would have.

Walking slowly and looking around carefully he tried to spot any signs that d'Artagnan might have been past. He did not like the thought of the young man being outside on his own as the temperature dropped.

'Athos…'

His name was spoken quietly.

He looked across and saw his brother slumped against a tree. D'Artagnan was shaking and looked pale in the diminishing light. He was not wearing his doublet and his boots were missing.

'Two men...attacked...sorry,' d'Artagnan managed to stutter as Athos crouched in front of him looking for any obvious injury.

'Do not apologies,' Athos said. 'Are you injured?'

'Ankle...they managed to push me over, I...landed awkwardly.'

Athos gently felt d'Artagnan's left ankle causing the Musketeer to hiss in pain.

'Sorry,' said Athos as he unbuttoned his cloak.

He pulled his gun from his belt, checked it was primed and ready to fire. He was grateful to Porthos, who had spent the time to carefully dry the weapon when he was sleeping in front of the tavern fire.

Athos aimed the gun skywards and pulled the trigger. D'Artagnan jumped slightly at the noise.

He holstered the gun and sat next to his injured brother, wrapping the cloak around them both, pulling d'Artagnan closer as he did so. D'Artagnan did not try to resist the move. Athos could not help a chuckle.

'What?' asked d'Artagnan in between shivers.

'I am amused at the irony that I am now returning the favour that you and Porthos paid me earlier. Although you are not such an unwilling recipient.'

D'Artagnan managed a smile before replying, 'I've not just regained consciousness,' he said. 'You were confused earlier. We don't hold it against you.'

'Well thank you then.'

MMMM

Aramis led the horses towards the sound of the gunshot. He prayed that d'Artagnan was alive and well.

The sight the greeted him made him smile. Athos was sat on the ground with a very cold looking d'Artagnan wrapped in his arms. The borrowed cloak slung around them both.

Athos looked up at him as he approached.

'I look forward to the teasing I shall receive,' he said.

D'Artagnan, who had been looking off into the distance managed to focus on Aramis.

'It's only...my ankle,' he said.

'And the fact that you are freezing,' said Aramis as he started to unwind the sash from his waist.

As he strapped up the injured man's ankle he looked up at Athos.

'I doubt you're really doing any good, you can't be much warmer than him.'

'It's the thought,' said d'Artagnan.

Aramis nodded, 'bit of an extreme way to get someone to pay you back though.'

Porthos appeared from the opposite direction, he was clutching d'Artagnan's doublet and boots, he could not help a grin.

'Thought you might want these back.'

MMMM

D'Artagnan allowed Aramis to fuss about him. He watched as the field medic properly strapped his ankle before gently resting the injured limb on a stool. Porthos pushed a warm drink into his hands. Athos had been ordered to sit, equally wrapped up, on the seat opposite him.

The journey back to the tavern had been uneventful, other than getting them all mounted up. Athos had managed to get himself on his horse without issues, but d'Artagnan knew he would need help.

Porthos had helped him up onto the back of his horse with the intention of riding behind him due to the struggle d'Artagnan was having to stay awake. Porthos was about to mount up when Athos coughed to draw his attention.

They had both looked around to find Aramis still stood next to his horse looking at the saddle. The medic had turned to them and without making eye contact asked a laughing Porthos if he could help him to mount up as well. The earlier fall Aramis had suffered finally forcing him to accept that he was not quite as fine as he had been making out.

The incident had lightened the mood for the rest of them, even if it left Aramis slightly embarrassed.

After they had settled themselves around the room d'Artagnan had managed to explain what had happened. Porthos had then regaled them with his eventful search. D'Artagnan had no sympathy for the men. They wondered if the man Porthos had knocked out was still lying where he had been left or if he had regained consciousness and left. They decided they would check when they left in the morning. Porthos was not sure he would be able to find the spot in the dark. There was still the other man's body to deal with.

Athos was staring at the fire, he looked pensive. Aramis and Porthos had pulled chairs up to sit with them both.

D'Artagnan asked, 'are you alright?'

Athos looked back at them all for a few seconds before responding.

'I just wanted to apologise for being...combative...earlier, I know I was confused,' he said before Porthos could say anything, 'but I would still like to apologise. And to thank you all for what you did.'

Aramis said, 'I think between the four of us, we've managed to assist each other in some way or other today, so there isn't really a need to thank anyone. We're all even again.'

D'Artagnan thought for a moment realising that Aramis was correct. They had all helped each other.

'Exactly as it should be,' said Porthos, as the others nodded their agreement.

The End.