Chapter Two

Porthos had to wait until the boat had settled before he could lean over the side and look for Aramis. D'Artagnan had managed to sit up and drag Athos over to his side of the boat to balance them.

'Can you see him?'

'No,' said Porthos as he looked hard at the water, 'yes.'

Aramis broke the surface of the water. He coughed and gasped, struggling to breath, Porthos leaned over as far as he could and grabbed Aramis' arm dragging him towards the boat. Unable to help himself, Aramis allowed Porthos to haul him back aboard. He was still coughing.

'Take your time,' said Porthos as Aramis continued to cough and splutter.

Aramis blinked a few times and settled his breathing, he looked over at Athos who was now unconscious on the floor of the boat.

'I 'ad to knock him out, I was just too slow to stop him chucking you off the boat.'

'What's the matter with him,' said d'Artagnan who was looking between Aramis and Athos with concern.

'We think he's banged his head, seems to have taken a disliking to Aramis…that's the second time he's tried to kill 'im.'

Aramis, managed to push himself up to sit, 'you shouldn't have knocked him out, when he already had a head injury.'

'Next time I'll just let 'im drown you then, shall I?' snapped Porthos.

'Sorry,' said Aramis a little taken aback.

Porthos sighed, realising Aramis had not meant to chide him, he said in a calmer voice, 'I didn't have any choice, he would have capsized the boat.'

Aramis smiled accepting the unspoken apology as Porthos grabbed the marksman's blanket from the floor of the boat and wrapped it tightly around his friend.

'We should restrain him,' said d'Artagnan unbuckling his weapons belt.

D'Artagnan and Porthos moved Athos to lie on his side and wrapped the belt around his wrists. The swordsman did not stir.

They arranged themselves around the edge of the small boat. Aramis and Porthos had their injured legs stretched out in front of them. Aramis was shivering slightly after his recent misadventure. Porthos moved closer in the vain hope that his own body heat would help to warm up the soaked musketeer.

Porthos noticed that d'Artagnan still looked a little unfocused.

'How are you feeling?' asked Porthos as he eyed d'Artagnan.

'Not too bad, a bit dizzy…I still don't remember what happened.'

'What's the last thing you do remember?' asked Aramis unable to hide his concern.

'Being on the ship, Athos telling us he was sure the two Englishmen weren't the ones we were supposed to have met. Nothing after that.'

Porthos paused for a moment to order the events in his head before recounting to d'Artagnan how they had come to find themselves adrift in a small boat.

'I don't know how Athos found out about the two Englishmen, but we confronted them. Which turned out to be a bad idea. It wasn't just them that were out of place, several members of the crew were with them. They started to fight us, which we could have won, but then another ship shot at ours. Our ship sank rapidly. The crew started to jump overboard. You and Athos jumped, I followed.'

Aramis continued, realising Porthos did not know what had happened after he had jumped from the ship.

'I rather ungracefully fell over when the ship tilted to one side and was hit by one of those barrels…'

'…you never said,' remarked Porthos, 'you could have been killed.'

'If it had been full I probably would have been…I think that's when I hurt my ankle. When I saw that you had all abandoned me I jumped off as well. The last I saw, the Englishmen were lying in a pool of their own blood. You took out one, Athos took out the other. I'm guessing you both hit your head's after leaving the ship, you were both conscious when you jumped.'

'Was the other ship English?' asked d'Artagnan.

'No idea. But whoever they were they didn't hang around after they had scuppered our ship.'

Aramis tried to stifle a yawn, 'would either of you object if I tried to sleep for a while? Now that Athos is not in a position to drown me again I feel a little bit safer.'

MMMM

D'Artagnan exchanged a glance with Porthos, Aramis was visibly shivering. Porthos gently moved the sleeping man to lean against him, Aramis did not stir.

'We need to get to shore. We don't know how seriously injured Athos is and we all need to get warm,' said Porthos quietly.

D'Artagnan nodded, 'when we get ashore one of us will need to get back to Paris and report…me I suppose.'

'Provided your head is alright by then. But it will all depend on us getting some help. We've got nothing, I think we've all lost our weapons and I doubt if we have much money between us…it's all been a bit of a disaster.'

D'Artagnan smiled grimly, 'I agree…why don't you try to sleep, I'll keep watch for a bit.'

Porthos nodded, he rearranged himself and Aramis so that Aramis was as far away from Athos as possible. D'Artagnan smirked at the gesture, despite Athos now being restrained Porthos clearly did not trust his currently confused friend.

MMMM

Athos opened his eyes and tried to work out why the world was tilting from side to side repeatedly. It was a steady movement with the occasional slap of water against wood. He remembered the ship and the fight with the Englishmen. He remembered jumping into the water and hoping that the others were following him. The water was cold and choppy. He had looked back in time to see d'Artagnan jump, hitting his head on the way down and falling to the water unconscious. He had hated not being able to get back to the young musketeer but had seen Porthos near him. As he had twisted around in the water he had seen the small boat floating free of the sinking vessel and had swum towards it, feeling himself being buffeted towards it rapidly. The last thing he remembered, was knowing he was going to hit the small boat hard.

He tried to sit up, as the blanket that was covering him fell away he realised his hands were strapped together with d'Artagnan's weapons belt. Athos looked around and saw his brothers lying asleep in front of him, each man huddled under a blanket. D'Artagnan was closest, leaning against the side of the boat. Porthos was lying next to one of the bench seats with Aramis on the other side of him pushed as far over as he could get. Both Porthos and Aramis appeared to be injured, Porthos had a makeshift bandage around his leg and Aramis had one boot off, his bare foot dark with bruising.

'How are you feeling?' asked d'Artagnan as he sat himself up a little straighter.

'Confused?' replied Athos holding up his bound hands.

'We think you banged your head. You…tried to kill Aramis…twice.'

Athos looked towards Aramis and tried to remember what had happened.

'I don't remember…what did I do?'

'You tried to drown him, once before we got on the boat and then later on you threw him overboard.'

D'Artagnan leaned forward and unbuckled the belt from Athos' wrists, 'we were waiting until it got light, Porthos was hoping we would still be able to see land so that we would have something to aim at.'

'Like the coast over there?' said Athos pointing behind d'Artagnan who turned to see.

They were not very far from the coast. Athos carefully pulled himself up to sit on the bench seat, d'Artagnan sat beside him. They pulled the oars out from under the seats and set to work rowing towards the coast.

MMMM

Due to both of them having slight concussions the rowing was hard work, but Athos had decided that both Aramis and Porthos would be better left to sleep. Both men were injured and would need their strength when they reached land.

As they rowed it became apparent that the tide was with them, they were buffeted a little but gradually they closed in on the shore.

Athos decided it was time to wake the others he leaned forwards and shook Porthos' shoulder to rouse the big musketeer. With a groan he opened his eyes. Stepping over Porthos, Athos crouched beside Aramis and shook the sleeping man.

Aramis opened his eyes and focused on Athos. He reacted with shock and tried to move away jarring his injured leg in the process causing him to cry out in pain. Porthos reacted quickly and grabbed Athos from behind pulling him backwards.

'It's OK Porthos,' said d'Artagnan as he tried to pull Porthos off Athos, 'he's OK now.'

Porthos let Athos go. As the rocking ship settled they returned to Aramis' side. The marksman had paled and was clutching at the side of the boat, his breathing fast, his eyes tightly shut. It took Aramis several minutes to calm his breathing and open his eyes again.

'Sorry, I did not think,' apologised Athos.

Aramis nodded and, with a little help from Porthos sat up, wincing as he did so.

'How are you feeling?' Aramis asked when he found he could speak again.

'I'll be OK, I've had worse. D'Artagnan told me what I did to you…I have no idea why I did that.'

Aramis smiled, 'It's OK, at least you're not trying to drown me anymore.'

Athos noticed Aramis trying to hide his shivering, he grabbed the blanket he had been covered with, no longer needing it himself as the rowing had warmed both him and d'Artagnan up. Porthos took it and after giving Aramis a stern look threw it over him.

'How much longer until we get to shore?' asked Porthos looking across at the shore line.

'The tide is with us,' said Athos as he retook his seat and picked up the oar again, 'not long.'

MMMM

Athos and d'Artagnan continued to row, Porthos resumed his place next to Aramis who had either passed out or fallen asleep his shivering obvious to them all now.

As they neared the shore they heard a shout. Looking around Athos saw a man and an excitable dog standing on the beach. The man, who looked elderly but was clearly very fit, waded out to grab the bow of the boat and with d'Artagnan's help hauled the small boat far enough into shore that it stayed put.

'Where did you four come from?' asked the man as he shooed the curious dog away.

'Monsieur, we are soldiers, we were on a ship heading to England on the Kings business when we were shipwrecked. Any help you can give us will be very much appreciated,' said Athos adopting his normal position as leader of the group.

'For the King, I will most certainly help you, is your friend there injured?' said the man indicating Aramis who had not stirred.

'Yes, they both are,' replied Athos nodding towards Porthos, 'we are all cold.'

'I expect you are. Let me help you back to my house, it's not far, the wife will be more than happy to help you, she is generous to a fault…particularly with good looking young men,' said the man with an impish grin.

MMMM

The farmer, who despite his age, was very strong helped Porthos to hobble across the beach towards the field that separated it from the mans small house. The excitable dog had wandered off, flushing out birds around the edges of the field. Three horses looked up as the little group passed by.

'How long have you been out there for?' asked the farmer, who had introduced himself to them as Jean.

'Overnight, we were lucky to not drift away from the coast,' replied Porthos trying not to wince too much as they crossed the uneven surface.

'My wife Gillian is a dab hand with a needle and thread, she'll see to that leg of yours, unless one of your comrades is a field medic as well?'

'Aramis usually sews us up, but he's probably not up to it at the moment,' said Porthos glancing back at his friend who was being helped by both Athos and d'Artagnan. Aramis looked very pale and was clearly struggling to stay conscious.

'We'll get him by the fire in the kitchen, Gill always has it warmer than is strictly necessary, says it helps her arthritis.'

Porthos smiled, he knew they had been very lucky to find help. They could easily have landed on a stretch of coast with no inhabitants for miles. Their assortment of injuries would have hindered their progress back to Paris.

A woman who must have been Gillian appeared at the doorway of the farmhouse, a bowl in her hand. Several chickens and a couple of ducks moved towards her, only to be shooed away when she noticed her husband and four strangers approaching.

'Gill, these men are Musketeers, they need some assistance. This one,' he nodded towards Porthos, 'will need your skills with a needle, and that lad needs to be warmed up a bit and have his ankle looked at.'

'You only went out to find the dog,' replied the woman with mock exasperation. She moved aside as Jean helped Porthos across the threshold.

The small house could only be described as cosy. A door to the side of the main room led off to a tiny bedroom. The main living area had a roaring fire with a couple of soft chairs beside it. The farmer helped Porthos to one.

'I could sit at the table, Monsieur,' protested Porthos as the farmer pushed him to sit in what was probably his own chair.

'No, you're injured, you will sit there,' said Jean firmly, but with a smile.

Gillian had bustled off into their bedroom, she re-emerged with a couple of blankets. One she gave to Porthos, who thanked her with a nod. Although he was very worried about Aramis' near constant shivers, he knew that he was almost as cold.

As Athos and d'Artagnan manoeuvred Aramis into the other soft chair it was clear the man had finally passed out. Gillian arranged the second blanket over the marksman and felt his skin, tutting as she did so.

'Why is he suffering so much more than the rest of you?'

Athos sighed before replying, 'I had a head injury that caused me to be…to not act in my usual manner…I pushed him out of the boat.'

Gillian looked at Athos with concern, 'but your head is alright now?'

She reached her hand up to move Athos' hair away from the small cut to his head.

'I believe so Madam.'

'Then do not blame yourself for what you have done, you are clearly worried about your comrade. Knocks to the head do strange things to people.'

Athos managed a smile. Porthos was impressed with Gillian. She had successfully taken charge of four grown men and she was about half the size of them.

Gillian proceeded to get them all stripped of their damp doublets which she spread about the room to dry. She sent d'Artagnan off to collect water so that she could make them some soup and ordered Athos away to wash the dried blood from his face and hair so that she could take a proper look at his head wound.

Jean and the jumpy dog had disappeared to tend to their livestock, he had said they were welcome to stay as long as necessary.

'Breeches off, I want to clean and stitch that wound.'

Porthos laughed, 'it normally takes more than a simple command to have me stripping off Madam.'

'My sons are older than you, and I have seen it all before,' chuckled the old woman.

After helping him with his boots, she assisted Porthos to stand so that he could take off his breeches. Like her husband she was remarkably strong. She hummed in dissatisfaction as she looked at the sword wound.

'I think we are just in time. I will have to clean it carefully…I don't think there is any infection.'

'Madam,' said Athos who had returned from cleaning himself up, 'although I am sure Porthos will try not to move he can be…combative when he gets stitches. Allow me to assist you.'

Gillian smiled at Porthos who was scowling at Athos as he crossed the small room and positioned himself behind the chair ready to restrain the big musketeer.

'My boy, Marc, was always a nuisance when he needed stitches, I actually knocked him out once.'

Porthos exchanged a wry smile with Athos.

MMMM

D'Artagnan watched as Gillian stitched the wound on Porthos' leg whilst Athos held him back in the chair. The big musketeer was doing his best not to move or react to the stitches and when he finally passed out they all breathed a sigh of relief, except for Gillian.

'For a big man, he is quite a baby really,' she said as she finished off the final stitch and wrapped a bandage around his leg before covering him with a blanket.

'He's never that well behaved for me,' said Aramis quietly from his chair.

Gillian laughed, 'woman's touch, my dear. Now, if you will excuse me I shall make you all something warm to eat.'

Gillian wandered over to her small kitchen area and bustled about chopping vegetables and meat. The conscious musketeers watched her for a few minutes.

'We need to get word to Paris as soon as possible. D'Artagnan do you think you will be able to ride? I spoke to Jean and he is willing to lend us one of his horses.'

'I'm not dizzy anymore,' replied d'Artagnan who caught Aramis looking at him, 'really, I'm fine. In better shape than you at any rate.'

Aramis shrugged his shoulders, 'you are right. Neither Porthos or myself shall be riding for a few days. You will need to send a cart for us I'm afraid. We can't impose on the lovely Gillian for too long.'

'You will impose on us as long as is necessary my boy,' said Gillian over her shoulder, 'you are too ill to go anywhere for a couple of days, I doubt you could make it to the door without collapsing.'

Aramis had the decency to look contrite at the telling off from their kindly hostess. D'Artagnan chuckled.

'I think we have found a woman you cannot charm,' said Athos.

MMMM

Aramis insisted that d'Artagnan not leave until the following morning. Athos reluctantly agreed, knowing that although he claimed to feel better they could not afford for d'Artagnan to come to harm on his journey back to Paris.

Jean and Gillian had offered them their bed, but the musketeers had refused, pointing out that they were used to sleeping on the ground. After feeding them all again and ensuring they had enough blankets the couple had bid them goodnight.

'If you leave early in the morning you should reach that tavern I was telling you about,' said Porthos to d'Artagnan, 'we had a lovely stew there last time.'

Aramis nodded his agreement before looking across as Athos, 'what's the matter with you?'

'Sorry, I was trying to work out why I attacked you. I cannot imagine what made me do it.'

'As long as you've stopped now, we'll forget about it,' said Aramis, slapping Athos on the arm, he grinned at the contrite swordsman, 'although as we will have a few days here and then a long journey back to Paris, you can continue to apologies for a bit longer, if that would make you feel better.'

Athos glared at him, 'I could always have a relapse.'

The End.