D'Artagnan's head snapped over, and saw the trouble Athos had. "No!" He cried out, unknowingly rushing to his father's aid. In an instant, the man was taken care of. D'Artagnan grinned at his father then cried out "No, leave him for me!" and ran to rejoin the fry. 'That boy is too eger'. Athos thought to himself.

After the fight, Porthos turned to his younger brother. "You are arrogant, cokey, stubborn, bull-headed, and are likely to be killed by sundown, but I like you, lad. You remind me of me." For some reason, the unexpected phase filled D'Artagan with warmth. He grinned up at Porthos, who returned the smile with one of his own.

"Don't encourage him."

"Ariams is right, the cardinal's guards are likely to go after him too. Son, I need to talk to you alone." The two men rode a distance away from where D'Artagan was argueing with Ariams.

"What is it father?"

"You know what I told you of your little brother?"

"Yes, he was a year younger than me. You took him to a safe place, and his name was-" Porthos stopped, and stared at the boy who just helped them win a fight against about 300 guards. "D'Artagnan." He whispered. Athos nodded, and the men rode over to the other two. As soon as Porthos saw the hope in the boy- no, his brother's, eyes, he felt himself melt a little. "He's right." Porthos said, trying to not see those eyes turn sad.

"What changed?"

"I don't know. Maybe the fact we're brothers." Porthos snapped at him. D'Artagon gave a start, then turned and fled.

Porthos started to go after him but Athos stopped him. Let me, son." He rode after his youngest boy.