Chapter 1: The ambush.

"Has it been dry for more than five minutes since we left Paris?" Porthos grumbled for the thousandth time.

"I'm sure it has, just not anywhere we are going," Aramis replied without any trace of mirth.

"It's supposed to be summer soon," D'Artagnan agreed, glancing at Athos to see if he would finally pass comment.

Athos ignored them, shrugging his cloak in an attempt to relive it's wet dead weight but it just allowed a chill in across his shoulders. He nudged his horse onwards through the mud.

They were among a group lead by captain Treville on their way to the province of the Duke of Deverell. They were only on the second afternoon out of Paris and in fine weather the estate was not two full days from the capital. In the rain with the mud soaked roads Athos thought them unlikely to make it there by nightfall. The Duke of Deverell had invited King Louis to come and see the new innovations he had made in farming, as far as Athos knew he had been inviting the king for sometime with little result. And he would be bitterly disappointed with the party heading his way as the king was supposed to be with them, arriving with great pomp and circumstance to the duke's land. However, unwilling to travel for days in the rain, Louis had sent his trusted Captain Treville in his place.

Athos had been there at the time. "Go in my place Treville, take your musketeers and impress him" had been the king's orders, "see what he has done and invite him back here to explain it all to me." At that they had bowed and they had left.

And now here they were, Athos sighed. Soaked through, though perhaps not overly cold he conceded, trudging along a hillside path in a young woodland all too sparse to offer them any shelter from the rain. Behind him Porthos grumbled yet again and Athos wondered why it was that the two Musketeers he was most fond of were also the most vocal. Beside him D'Artagnan joined in with the grumbling and he knew that the young man would be no different to the two friends he already had. He was pretty sure none of the other thirty or so musketeers in their company were constantly complaining.

Ahead of him captain Treville turned in his saddle with an amused look towards him and Athos shook his head. Looking beyond Treville, Athos frowned as the lead musketeers' horse shied and slipped down off the road down the slope, it quickly recovered stumbling back onto the path, but Athos was wondering what had caused it: he thought he had seen something moving in the woods through the rain. Treville understood the expression on Athos' face and started to look for the reason the horse shied too. Behind him Athos' companions fell silent and he could feel the whole company become more alert as the mood of their most senior members changed.

Athos was just about to say that perhaps it was nothing when the ambush occurred. Men came running out of the woods from all directions, screaming and brandishing weapons. Beneath him Athos' horse shifted nervously but it was well trained and waited for his command. As did all their mounts. The musketeers didn't wait for the men to reach them before fighting, they all drew swords and their better marksmen, Aramis among them, fired, felling several attackers before they reached them. Within moments they were all involved in close quarter fighting. Their attackers had had the upper hand thanks to their ambush but the musketeers took advantage of being mounted on well trained horses.

Athos spun his horse, letting the animal keep attackers away while he cut down the ones within reach. But after a few minutes his advantage was lost as a man with an axe managed to pull him from his horse, he fell heavily to the ground and tried to avoid the axe as it swung towards him, then Porthos was there blocking it and Athos slid his dagger into his attacker.

"Thanks," he said as Porthos gave him a hand up.

"We're outnumbered," Porthos commented with a smile as they moved back to back to fend off new attackers. Athos could see he was right, most of the Musketeers where now down in the mud, fighting in more and more isolated groups, strung along the road. Their attackers were not half as skilled as the musketeers but there did seem to be no end of men coming out of the woods.

Athos was glad to see that the captain was still mounted with two other musketeers either side of him, their attackers were paying him no special attention, perhaps not recognising the man in charge, and he was a competent fighter. A quick look for D'Artagnan found their young apprentice unmounted and off the path, down the embankment. He was not the only one down there and, given the state of his clothes, Athos was guessing he had rolled there. More alarmingly he was fighting three men alone. And there was no way he or Porthos were going to be able to help him still fighting in the middle of a circle of men.

"Aramis!" He yelled, spotting him still mounted not far away. Aramis heard him. "D'Artagnan!" he indicated.

Aramis nodded, turning his horse and spurring it down the muddy bank, it was a testament to both their skills that the pair made it down there in one piece and continued on to bulldoze through D'Artagnan's attackers.

Suddenly Aramis' horse reared, throwing Aramis to the ground. Athos was amazed to see an arrow in the animals back. Porthos had seen it too.

"Arrows?" he said, "since when does anyone use arrows?"

Aramis was evidently not injured by the fall as he stood up to fight beside D'Artagnan. Athos frowned as several more of the arrows flew through the water filled air. With the noise dampened by the rain it was difficult to work out where they were coming from, yet their infrequency suggested only one or two archers. Despite the occasional arrow, they did seem to be winning the fight. The number they were fighting was decreasing and, as Athos finally killed the irritating man he was fighting, the fact that someone was firing arrows became more worrying.

His attention was caught as from below D'Artagnan cried out, it appeared he had caught a blade across his torso and he fell to his knees. Aramis was still there though, and he killed the man that had done it before pulling D'Artagnan to his feet. The two of them had killed all their attackers too and Athos was beginning to think they may have won this fight. The all clears were coming from the other musketeers. Aramis had a word with D'Artagnan before giving Athos and Porthos a nod to say that they were fine too.

Athos saw the arrow before it hit, narrowly missing D'Artagnan and thumping into a tree behind the young man. "Aramis!" Athos yelled "D'Artagnan!" But there was no where for the two of them to go and as another arrow flew Aramis protected D'Artagnan by stepping between him and the arrows, dragging him towards the nearest tree. But the next arrow didn't miss, burying itself soundly in Aramis back and he fell against D'Artagnan. The shock on D'Artagnan's face as he realised what happened was palatable but it was Porthos shouting Aramis' name that Athos would remember later. Alongside another voice he realised was his. The two of them were about to throw themselves down the embankment to the others when the earth shook.

"Mudslide!" Athos heard a musketeer yell and, as he and Porthos froze and looked back up the hill, they could see the mass of mud heading directly for them. Men and horses were suddenly upon them, running along the road to get out of the way of the impending death. Neither he nor Porthos could bring themselves to turn from their friends and they tried to keep from being dragged along by the other musketeers. They could see D'Artagnan was trying to pull Aramis from the path of the mud, another musketeer was helping them but Athos could not tell if Aramis was alive.

Then the mudslide was upon them, he and Porthos caught the edge of it but it still dragged them over the edge of the road and down the hill. He tried to get to his feet as it pulled him along, but it was not just mud pulling him. The mud slide was bringing down trees and debris with it. Athos slammed into a tree as he fell and winced as a large branch pinned him there. He just tried to focus on staying alive as the roar of the earth moving continued around him.

It felt like ages but had likely been only minutes when he became aware the mudslide had ceased. Everything was quiet, even the rain was easing off. Then he became aware of movement around him. Looking up it appeared most of the musketeers made it clear of the mudslide and were now racing down the hillside to rescue those that hadn't. Looking beyond the tree he was wrapped around Athos could see no sign of any of his friends and a terror came upon him that he may have lost them all this day. Looking to the approaching musketeers he tried to find his voice to demand they free him but it was unnecessary as Treville had seen him and was with him in moments, indicating to the others with him to help move the branch pinning Athos.

As it was removed Athos could finally breathe properly and he let Treville pull him to his feet. He shook his limbs unable to feel much through the cold, he ached and would likely soon be black and blue, but nothing was broken.

"Are you alright?" Treville asked him, inspecting him for injuries.

"I am fine," he said distracted and he turned his attention to looking for the others. "Porthos," he said seeing two musketeers pulling him to his feet a short distance away. He shook off Treville's grip and stumbled towards Porthos desperate to see if he was well. Treville followed, just as worried about his men.

"Porthos?" Athos asked as he reached them.

"I'm fine," Porthos replied, letting the two men who had freed him pull him to his feet. Athos could see he was bleeding from a small cut on the head but saw no other obvious injury. He didn't doubt Porthos knew he was cut but they both had more important things to worry about. He reached over to pat Porthos on the shoulder, seeing his own relief reflected in Pothos' expression. They both looked around at the devastation about them. Where there had been a road through a forest was now just a muddy mess. Trees and debris had been brought down and scattered around and where D'Artagnan and Aramis had been fighting was now covered in mud of an unknown depth. Musketeers were all over the place, Athos could see several injured and a few dead but most were searching for the dozen or so that had been in the path of the mudslide.

"D'Artagnan," Porthos said, spotting him further down the slope. With a look to Treville who gave him a nod, Athos followed Porthos down to him. The rain had all but stopped but everything was covered in mud. D'Artagnan had obviously been carried a short way down by the mudslide but was not thankfully buried far in it. They slid to a stop either side of him, he was conscious and trying to extract his legs from the mud. A difficult task even if he were not injured.

"Here, D'Artagnan," Athos said stilling his struggles by grabbing his arm. Porthos began to inspect how their friend was stuck. "Are you injured?" he asked the younger man, eyes distracted by the blood on his front.

"It's only a scratch," D'Artagnan told him unconvincingly.

"And your legs?" Porthos asked.

"Just stuck," D'Artagnan informed them.

"We'll pull you out," Athos decided putting D'Artagnan's arm over his shoulder. Porthos did the same and they attempted to pull him up. It was difficult as the mud they were standing on was not yet compact and they kept sinking as they tried to free D'Artagnan from the suction holding him down. It was not helped by his involuntary grunts of pain as they stretched the obviously deep cut across his torso. After a minute or so he was free and they helped him further up and off the slippery surface of the mudslide up towards the road.

"Wait, Aramis?" D'Artagnan asked breathlessly as they dragged him up the hill. Athos met Porthos' eyes again, a quick look around the area suggested things were not looking good for Aramis. The other musketeers were crawling over the area looking for any evidence of buried musketeers, Aramis was not the only one missing, and Athos could see they were not finding anything. D'Artagnan was the last of the injured to be taken up to the road.

"They are looking for him, Porthos and I will too once you're being seen to," Athos told him.

Treville was up at the road, collecting together horses and men, barking out orders as they reached it with D'Artagnan. Rousset was there too inspecting injured musketeers, they all were adept as treating wounds but Rousset was their medic, and as they sat D'Artagnan down he came over to have a look. Athos and Porthos stood as Treville approached.

"I've sent Maurice and Gillard to the village down the hill for help," he told them, "we'll need shovels and man power dig out our men." He gave them a serious look then. They all knew it would be bodies they would be looking for.

"How many missing?" Athos asked him.

"Seven, including Aramis," he replied sadly. "Three dead and various injuries."

"Is there any chance they aren't in the mud?" Porthos asked hopefully. The idea that Aramis was buried under the mudslide was difficult to accept.

"I don't think anyone saw where everyone was when it happened," Treville replied, "we are still missing several horses, Aramis' included. Go, check the woods if you like," he gave a wave of his hand to dismiss them. "Porthos?" he said as they parted. "Don't get your hopes up, D'Artagnan was with Aramis when the mudslide came and you just pulled him from the mud."

"Come on," Athos said to Porthos, clapping him on the shoulder. He turned to where they had left D'Artagnan, "wait here," he instructed before heading back down the hill.

They went down beyond where the mudslide had ended, beyond the devastation the other musketeers were still scouring, and into the woods. They went carefully, aware that their earlier attackers could still be lingering. They inspected the ground as they went looking for any indications a musketeer had come this way, the rain may have stopped but there was little left on the ground to offer any sign.

Any hope that Aramis' horse may have aided his escape was dashed as they found the animal not far into the woods. The horse was standing, head down, obviously at a loss of what to do and it looked to them as they approached, despite their mud covered countenances he recognised them and wickered softly, coming over as Athos called him. Athos took the reins, as Porthos inspected the arrow in his flank. It was obviously painful as the animal shied when Porthos went near but didn't seem to be causing a limp and Athos was confident, once removed, the horse would recover.

Athos gave Porthos a look. They would take the horse back to the others and keep looking. Surely Aramis would be out here somewhere.

AN; Hope you enjoyed! This is the first story I've ever dared to post (or let anyone else read), but I guess you've got to start somewhere! Hopefully it's of an acceptable standard. I've already written most of the chapters so will be posting them every couple of days.