Authors note: Athos whump, d'Artagnan whump and some quick thinking from all four of them.
Chapter One
'Why does this require all four of us?' asked d'Artagnan unable to hide the slight irritation in his voice.
They had been away from Paris for a week. The assignment was not taxing, they simply had to collect a letter from a man a few days ride from the city and return. There had been no reports of attacks from bandits in the area, the roads they were using were quiet with just the odd village or small town every so often.
'Don't complain about it,' replied Porthos with a smile, 'this is better than standing by a door watching the King fawning over some visiting dignitary that he probably loathes.'
Aramis chuckled, 'I think he is missing the lovely Constance…'
D'Artagnan glanced back at them both with narrowed eyes, 'I was just wondering why all four of us were needed.'
Athos rolled his eyes as the three continued the conversation. D'Artagnan made himself a target for Aramis and Porthos' good-natured teasing. The younger man did not seem to realise they were goading him. Although the swordsman had to agree with d'Artagnan there did not seem to be a reason for the four of them to have been sent to collect the letter. They did not know what the letter contained but Treville had not indicated that it was anything of a sensitive nature.
Perhaps, thought Athos, the letter was important but the lack of any urgency to return with it was due to the letter not being time sensitive? The letter was handed to them by an older man, probably in his sixties who looked a little skittish and relieved to part with it. The man had disappeared into the streets of the large town where they met, disappearing from sight within seconds.
At the time they had been working undercover but were now back in their Musketeer uniforms. The weather had been kind to them, their cloaks had only been employed when they had been forced to camp overnight. Most of the time they had found accommodation at taverns along the way.
He knew they would be forced to camp that night as they were too far from the next town. They had found a spot on the first leg of their journey which had served them well and were planning on returning to it. A fast flowing river along one side of a clearing had made for a pleasant view the previous time. The nearest house to their camp had been a small farmhouse. The elderly widower who lived there with a couple of farm hands had come across to them and invited them to his house for a simple dinner. They had accepted the offer, insisting that the man take payment for his troubles. When the farmer had learned they intended to return the same way he had instantly offered them another meal.
'Perhaps Treville just wanted us out of the garrison for a bit?' suggested Aramis to d'Artagnan, 'or Constance has had a word with him and asked for you to be sent away?'
D'Artagnan quickly turned around to glare at Aramis only to find him and Porthos trying not to laugh. Athos finally turned back to the two men behind him.
'Leave him alone, you have been winding him up for hours now. Find something else to amuse yourselves with.'
D'Artagnan looked between Athos and the others before sighing.
'I should have guessed,' he said with exasperation.
Porthos and Aramis laughed out loud.
Porthos reached over to Aramis and slapped him on the arm saying, 'we have been rumbled, my friend. What shall we do now?'
Aramis smirked, 'oh I'm sure we will find something else to do…'
D'Artagnan kicked his horse into a trot and moved ahead of the three of them in an obvious sulk.
Athos glanced back at Porthos and Aramis, raising his eyebrows at them. They both shrugged their shoulders in return.
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Porthos had watched Aramis urge his horse forward to trot with d'Artagnan. He could see the marksman make an apology which was instantly accepted by d'Artagnan. Within a few seconds they were both laughing about something, Porthos wondered if Aramis had now made him the source of his amusement?
Athos moved next to him, their horses easily falling into step with each other.
'Do you think there is a reason all four of us were sent to collect the letter?' asked Porthos quietly.
Athos smirked, 'it is a valid question...one that has been on my mind since we left Paris.'
'So Treville didn't tell you any more than he told us?'
Athos shook his head.
'We may never know.'
Aramis and d'Artagnan had turned their horses off the road and toward their chosen campsite. They both dismounted and Aramis took the reins of both horses and led them to the river to allow them to drink.
Porthos and Athos followed, dismounting with Athos taking both horses.
Porthos wandered across to d'Artagnan who was assessing the remains of the fire from their previous stay.
'We were bored, and you are just such an easy target,' he said by way of his own apology.
D'Artagnan looked up smiling, 'I know, Aramis said that you used to do the same thing with Athos but that he got so annoyed with you both one day he actually pulled his gun on you both.'
Porthos chuckled at the memory, 'yeah, bored Musketeers can cause others to become dangerous.'
Aramis, who had taken his and d'Artagnan's horses to a tree and wrapped their reins around a low branch walked over to them.
'Athos wants us to visit the farmer, he doesn't want us to all turn up if we are not welcome.'
'Is he worried it will create a diplomatic incident?' asked Porthos with a grin.
'Or it's a punishment for you teasing me and annoying him all day?' suggested d'Artagnan as he went back to sorting the fire out.
'The old man did go on a bit didn't he,' mused Aramis as he started to walk away in the direction of the farm.
The farm was only a few hundred yards from their camp. It did not take long for the two Musketeers to reach it. Aramis had spent the time trying to come up with more ways to subtly wind up d'Artagnan.
'What's the matter?' asked Porthos when Aramis stopped talking and stared ahead.
'Not sure, it just seems...quiet...I know it's only the three of them here but when we passed by before there seemed to be more activity.'
As they approached the modest farmhouse the reason for the silence became apparent. The chickens, which had been roaming the area in front of the house, were nowhere to be seen. Porthos glanced across to the coop at the side of a small barn, it was shut up. A faint clucking could be heard from within.
'Bit early to be shutting up the birds, isn't it?' said Porthos as he began to feel the same sense of unease that Aramis had felt.
They approached the house. Aramis knocked on the closed door, when they received no answer and could not hear any movement from within they resorted to peering through the windows. There was no sign of the farmer or his two labourers. After carefully circling the house and looking inside the barn they returned to the door and knocked again.
'Strange,' said Aramis as he scanned the surrounding area, 'the farm isn't that big, I can't imagine all three men would be too far away not to have noticed us arrive.'
Porthos frowned, 'guess we'll 'ave to cook our own dinner.'
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When the shot rang out d'Artagnan turned towards the sound. He dropped the bundle of dry wood he had gathered and pulled his gun from his belt quickly checking it was ready to be fired. The shot had come from the direction of their camp. He had only moved a short distance away but could not see the clearing from where he was which meant that whoever was there could not see him either.
He crept back, unsure what to expect. Were there bandits in the area after all? If they had not been planning on eating with the farmer again he could have understood hearing a gunshot. One of his brothers could have been catching them something to eat.
As he reached the edge of the clearing, he had to suppress a gasp. Athos was lying on the ground, clearly wounded, with four men searching through their belongings. A fifth man was holding a gun pointed at Athos who was clutching his leg with one hand and holding the other out to show he had no intention of trying to fight the men.
'Where is it?' asked the man standing over Athos.
'Where is what?' asked Athos quietly.
'You know what we want. Where is it? Do you want me to shoot you in the other leg?'
'I would rather you did not? But I cannot help you if you do not tell what it is you want.'
Athos was trying to sound calm, almost disinterested in the man, but d'Artagnan could detect the pain and fear in his voice.
He realised they were looking for the letter, there was nothing else the men could be looking for. D'Artagnan unconsciously patted the pocket of his doublet to check he still had the sought-after letter.
When the man took a couple of steps towards Athos, d'Artagnan decided he had to make his presence known. He knew Porthos and Aramis would have heard the gunshot and hoped they would be returning as well.
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He had been shot before, in battle, and once during a stupid bar brawl but this was the first time he had been shot whilst setting up his bedroll. He had arranged his bedding to his liking and had been about to return to his horse to remove the saddle when he heard the shot.
It took him a few seconds to realise he had been the target. He looked at his leg as the pain radiated out. Somewhat surprised at the situation he had not even thought to draw his own weapon before he was pushed to the ground by a man wielding a gun of his own.
He had managed to stop himself from crying out in pain, not wishing to give the man the satisfaction. Athos lay on the floor clutching at his leg, trying to keep pressure on the wound. He found that he was panting slightly as he tried to push the pain away.
There were five men in total, one was standing over him whilst the other four started to ransack his and his friend's belongings. They were looking through all their saddlebags, tossing the contents to the ground with little care. Athos quickly realised they were looking for the letter they were carrying. Pleased that it was not amongst their belongings he decided to play ignorant when the men questioned him as to its location.
'Where is it?' asked the man standing over Athos.
'Where is what?' he replied quietly, looking up at the man with the gun.
'You know what we want. Where is it? Do you want me to shoot you in the other leg?'
'I would rather you did not? But I cannot help you if you do not tell me what it is you want.'
The man looked angry, he took a couple of steps toward him and levelled the gun, aiming at his right leg. Athos knew he could do nothing to prevent the second shot himself.
On cue d'Artagnan appeared, gun already aimed at the man. The other four men stopped their search. One of them drew a gun to aim at d'Artagnan.
'Leave now,' said d'Artagnan, 'we have nothing that would be of any use to you.'
The man who was pointing a gun at Athos looked across at d'Artagnan.
'You have a letter, which we would very much like to be in possession of. I am sorry my man shot your friend, it was not our intention to hurt any of you.'
'We don't have a letter.'
The man aimed his gun at Athos' chest.
'You said you didn't want to hurt us.'
'If you give us the letter we will leave.'
'We have no letter,' said d'Artagnan.
Athos wondered how long they could keep the simple conversation going. Aramis and Porthos must have heard the gunshot. They were close enough. He wondered if they were on the edge of the clearing waiting for the best moment to make themselves known.
'Then we will be forced to kill you both, and the other two when they return…
The man nodded slightly. D'Artagnan looked across the clearing, Athos saw him react, but his reaction was a second too late. The shot hit his arm, pushing him back a step. He dropped his gun as his arm went limp to his side.
But the young man managed to regain his composure quickly before the man who had shot him could reload, or the other men raise their own weapons. D'Artagnan stumbled a few steps to stand at the edge of the river bank. A steep drop of about three feet behind him. He pulled the letter from his doublet and held it out, over the water with this uninjured left arm.
Athos watched with interest, unsure if what d'Artagnan had done was what he would do in the situation.
The men wanted the letter, d'Artagnan had just shown them he had it.
'Leave now, or I will drop it.'
'What good will that do you?' asked the man who was still vaguely pointing his gun at Athos.
'If none of us has it there is no reason to kill us,' replied d'Artagnan.
Athos wondered if his statement was more of a question. The young man looked pale. Athos wondered how bad the shot to his arm was. If d'Artagnan were to pass out where he was the chances were he would fall into the river. The water was deep enough and moving fast enough that he would probably be carried away.
The man who was stood over Athos looked down at him then back to d'Artagnan.
'Give me the letter or I will shoot him.'
'If you shoot him I will drop the letter.'
Athos realised they had arrived at a stalemate. Neither man could back down.
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