Authors note: There's medical stuff, I'm not a medic, I learned it all off the tellybox, it might be wrong. I plead poetic license.
Chapter Two
The third strike saw the door splinter at the lock and swing open. Dropping the statue to the floor and drawing his gun in one swift move Porthos entered the room. Jourdan was swinging at Athos, who, although looking pale and panting was able to parry the attack. His right arm was hanging at his side, he had obviously been injured.
Porthos levelled his gun at Jourdan, 'drop the sword,' he said firmly.
He knew he could not shoot Jourdan, but Jourdan did not. The spy froze, then slowly lowered his sword arm before letting the sword drop to the floor. Porthos pushed his gun back into his weapon belt and crossed the room with d'Artagnan. They each grabbed an arm and pushed the spy against the wall twisting his arms up behind his back.
Porthos looked across at Athos who had sank back against the wall in the corner of the room, panting. Aramis was by his side pulling him upright and guiding him out of the room.
'Another few seconds and I would have you,' said Jourdan with a smirk as Athos walked passed. Aramis glared at him whilst Porthos gave the spy another shove into the wall.
'I've got 'im,' said Porthos to d'Artagnan who released his grip and quickly went about grabbing a dustsheet and ripping it into lengths to act as improvised ropes. Porthos held the man firmly using his own body weight to stop Jourdan from moving. D'Artagnan bound his wrists tightly. He glanced at Porthos whilst holding up another couple of pieces of torn sheet. Porthos nodded with a smile. D'Artagnan made short work of gagging the spy who protested loudly.
Porthos pulled him off the wall and with d'Artagnan's help forced him to walk from the room. Aramis had sat Athos down on the bed in the next room and was busy undoing the injured man's doublet. He looked up as the two musketeers and their prisoner went passed.
'Once you've done whatever you are going to do with him, can one of you go back to the horses and get my medical kit?'
Porthos nodded, as they continued passed.
'What are we going to do with him?' asked d'Artagnan as they reached the landing.
Porthos looked about, 'try the next few doors, one is bound to be cupboard…we can lock him in for now, until we're ready to leave.'
After Jourdan had been pushed against the wall of the corridor d'Artagnan tried a few doors. He found a small cupboard. D'Artagnan looked back at Porthos who nodded his approval. Porthos turned his attention to Jourdan, he used one arm to hold the spy firmly against the wall as he removed the man's weapons belt. Porthos patted the man down, but could not find any other weapons.
Porthos marched the complaining spy forward and shoved him into the tiny room. D'Artagnan closed the door, turning the key that was still in the lock. He removed the key and hooked it onto his weapon belt.
'That should keep him for now…although I don't like the idea of leaving him alone, even locked up, for too long.'
'I agree, but let's get Athos sorted out first,' replied Porthos.
MMMM
Once Athos' jacket and shirt had been removed Aramis examined the wound as best he could whilst he waited for the others to bring supplies. He did not want to leave Athos on his own. The injured man was pale and close to passing out. The recent exertions were taking their toll. Aramis had forced his friend to lie down on the stale smelling bed, and although it looked uncomfortable the swordsman had not complained. As Aramis gently felt the wound for the ball which was still embedded under the flesh Athos groaned.
'Sorry,' said Aramis glancing up at his pained friend.
Porthos reappeared with a jug, a bottle and a bowl, 'd'Artagnan's gone for your bag. We've locked Jourdan in a cupboard for now.'
Aramis nodded, he pulled his own doublet off and left it hanging with his weapons over the back of the only chair in the room. He ripped up a dust sheet, then after wiping away the blood from the wound, he started feeling for the ball again.
'It's not too far in, should come out easily,' he said looking up at Athos who had his eyes closed, but was not yet unconscious.
D'Artagnan hurried back into the room with Aramis' bag. Aramis quickly found the instruments he needed and after pouring alcohol over them turned back to Athos.
'Ready?'
Athos nodded, but kept his eyes closed, his breathing had quickened again. Porthos clambered onto the bed from the other side of the injured man and unceremoniously manhandled Athos so that he could sit behind him to hold him still whilst Aramis worked. Athos hissed in pain at the rough treatment, he finally opening his eyes and glaring at Porthos who just shrugged his shoulders.
'I could knock you out if you wanted?'
Athos narrowed his eyes, then shook his head before asking, 'do I get some wine before you start butchering me?'
Aramis rolled his eyes and reached over to the bottle of wine Porthos had found. He pulled out the stopper and took a swig pulling a disapproving face as he swallowed.
'Not sure you'll want it,' he said holding onto the bottle as Athos used his left hand to guide it to his lips. He took two swigs then let go of the bottle. D'Artagnan took the bottle from Aramis and set it down on the floor.
As Aramis moved to sit on the edge of the bed to get better access to Athos' wound d'Artagnan leaned over the end of the bed and held onto Athos' legs. They knew that Athos would not be able to help fighting Aramis as he dug the ball out of the wound.
Aramis felt the wound again then slid the tip of the thin knife in. Athos tensed up, Porthos held his friend firmly around the shoulders. The knife was pushed in a little further, Aramis could feel the ball and manoeuvred the knife enough to slide the ball back out the way it had gone in. Athos had struggled against them but been held firmly between Porthos and d'Artagnan. Once the ball was removed a fresh flow of blood appeared. Aramis grabbed one of the torn strips of fabric and wadded it up and held it firmly over the wound. Porthos took over for Aramis so that the medic could prepare to stitch the injury.
'You still with us?' asked Porthos.
When Athos did not reply Aramis looked back at the injured man, 'I think he's out.'
D'Artagnan straightened up, 'I'll get the fire started,' he said as he walked over to the hearth opposite the bed. He poked about at the remains of the last fire, then left the room in search of some fuel.
Aramis threaded the needle then got to work stitching the wound on Athos' arm. Porthos held Athos arm at an angle to aid the stitching. As the last stitch went in Athos stirred, moaning.
'I'm done, just got to put a bandage on,' said Aramis as Athos opened his eyes.
Porthos extracted himself from behind Athos and left the room saying, 'I'll find you a clean shirt, and some food.'
MMMM
The following morning a shaft of sun light fell over Athos' face. He slowly opened his eyes and shifted his head enough to be out of the sun. He glanced about the room. The fire was still burning although not as fiercely as it had the previous night. D'Artagnan had found a couple of wooden chairs, that he and Porthos had taken a great childish delight in smashing apart, to feed the flames.
D'artagnan was stretched out on the bed next to him, Porthos was lying on the floor a short distance from the fire. It had amused Aramis and Athos greatly when the two had tossed a coin to see who got to share the musty smelling bed with Athos. Aramis was sleeping on the chair; his doublet had been put over him like a blanket. Athos vaguely remembered watching Porthos gently drop the leather jacket over his friend when he had fallen asleep.
A noise outside the room drew Athos' attention. A creak and what sounded like a quiet footstep. Athos looked over to the open door leading back into the corridor. A shadow moved across the floor. Slowly, painfully, Athos sat up, he eased himself off the bed and crept to the door. He glanced at d'Artagnan who had stirred when he had sat up. D'Artagnan realised what was happening and quietly followed Athos to the door.
He reached the door and paused as d'Artagnan caught him up. As he was about to peer around into the corridor they were both taken by surprise at Jourdan's sudden appearance. He pushed Athos backwards into d'Artagnan, Jourdan hooked his foot behind d'Artagnan's leg to ensure they both fell. Jourdan shoved into them both as they hit the floor, then regained his footing and made off. As they fell, Athos was unable to suppress a cry of pain as he landed on his injured arm. D'Artagnan was trapped underneath Athos who had been overtaken with a wave of nausea and dizziness, and was struggling to stay conscious.
Athos was vaguely aware of Porthos and Aramis scrambling up. Aramis stopped by the two fallen musketeers, he heard d'Artagnan telling the medic to go. Aramis disappeared after Porthos.
MMMM