Here we go, next chapter up, I think this story is probably gonna end up being about 10 chapters, maybe longer. Anyway, enjoy :)
It was d'Artagnan's turn to take watch first. Athos hadn't woken at all; it had now been too many hours to keep count of. Porthos had woken again, more fully than the last, but he was now sleeping next to Aramis under makeshift blankets (their cloaks). They had placed a rolled up jacket under Athos' head and covered him with a cloak to keep him as comfortable as possible. He didn't see how it would make any difference, Athos was dying. It was the first time he'd thought those words. He'd known, of course, for a long time that this was the truth but he hadn't thought it so frankly before. Athos needed a skilled physician, their self taught, homemade efforts would keep him alive for a while but that was all. There was a rustling from the trees, d'Artagnan tensed for a moment, peering into the gloom but relaxed when he saw a squirrel clamber up into the canopy. D'Artagnan was reminded of how carefree they had been not so long ago. The happy laughter which d'Artagnan now thought may have been what drew the attackers to them. It was funny though, how the mind plays tricks when one is scared and tired. He could have sworn that before the squirrel scuttled into view the moon glinted of something metal concealed behind a tree trunk.
"d'Artagnan!" Aramis called out. D'Artagnan turned his head to see Aramis propped up on his elbows on the grass a little way away.
"I'll take watch now, you get some sleep"
D'Artagnan was grateful; he was exhausted after the day's events. He laid his head down on the grass and closed his eyes. He was still lying there awake after thirty minutes. D'Artagnan had heard of people falling asleep as soon as their head hit the pillow although he had never been that fortunate, but so far he had never heard of people waking up as soon as their head hit the pillow. This is what was happening to him now. Before he had closed his eyes he had been looking forward to sleep but as soon as they were closed it seemed like the absence of visual stimulation had made way for the anxieties and fears for himself and his friends. He knew he was never going to get to sleep, not now. Not when Athos was lying motionless so closely. When the threat of their unknown attackers still loomed above their heads. Until now he had remained in his recumbent position almost in defiance of his own mind. He gave in and sat up slowly, opening his eyes to gaze at the deep blue-blackness of the night. No stars twinkled down on them, clouds obscured them. The only light was the crescent moon, which illuminated what d'Artagnan now recognised as the sleeping form of Aramis. He sighed, now thankful that he hadn't slept. His throat ached, alerting him to the fact that none of them had drunk any water since the attack. He knew they had passed a stream on their way; it couldn't be too far back. They could go and collect some in the morning. However, it surely wouldn't hurt to nip back and get a drink for himself now, the others were all fast asleep, they would be alright and no-one was going to attack them in the few minutes it took d'Artagnan to get a drink. He stood up shakily, still tired but he already knew sleep was impossible. He cast one quick glance around before leaving, all was still.
D'Artagnan reached the stream quickly and cupped the cool trickling water in his hands. He took several gulps of the water before realising something was wrong. He looked up slowly until his gaze met a pair of boots, unsurprisingly attached to the rest of the man's body. d'Artagnan didn't know how long the man had been standing there. It made him uncomfortable to think about it.
"Your friend is dying" the man said
It wasn't a question but d'Artagnan answered anyway, unsure of what else he could do.
"Yes"
"Rather a good shot, don't you think? It is so difficult to just clip the side of a man's head without his brain being splattered across the scenery. But of course, I've had practice."
"It was you who attacked us?"
"No, I was just remarking on the unrelated facts of how good a shot the attacker must have been and how I have practiced shooting before" he said sarcastically "of course it was me! Along with my friends. "
D'Artagnan remained where he was crouched by the river. There had been no sign of the attackers since they had attacked, had they been here the whole time.
"You see, we're worried about your friend, we really are" the man continued "We just want him to be alright, because, you see, we're lovely people really. We have a doctor, we can help him."
"Why would you want to do that, what do you want in return?"
"My good sir! What accusations are these? Are you saying that we would only help your dear friend if you gave us some sort of payment perhaps in the form of information about the musketeers and the guards on the palace? Surely not!"
D'Artagnan didn't say anything, he had the feeling that the man hadn't quite finished yet. After a short pause he continued.
"Of course, if you absolutely insist, I wouldn't say no to entertaining one of you little mates back there as my honoured guest for a little while. I'd return him, good as new, obviously. Perhaps with some minor flesh wounds, but what's that between friends, eh? "
D'Artagnan took a moment to work out what the man was proposing.
"So you're saying, you'll help Athos, if one of us goes with you to be inevitably tortured for information about the musketeers? I think we're fine on our own, thanks."
"Well if you don't want our help" the man sniffed as if deeply offended "I'm sure your little friend will be just fine on his own, doesn't need a proper doctor, no, he's too good for Xavier's proper doctor, he'll just manage with his incompetent musketeer mates, I mean, he might pull through but I doubt he'd survive another bullet in his head, right through his brain this time, he'd be dead as a door knob, mark my words, and these accidents do happen, more often than you think."
This was definitely not good.
"What's to stop me just killing you now?" D'Artagnan questioned raising his pistol to aim at the man's head. At the same moment he felt cold metal pressed against his throat.
"That is, my dear friend. And there are more of us, four shots, remember? My other mates are down by your little camp. So, is it a yes or a no?"
"Will you kill whoever goes with you?"
"Now why would I do that? There wouldn't be much point in one of you dying, to stop one of you dying, would there?"
"What if they refuse to give you the information?"
"Then our little agreement won't have been honoured and you might find our darling doctor's work undone pretty quickly"
D'Artagnan scowled.
"Yes"
Okay, who else is thinking that the attackers might ever so slightly crazy? I honestly wasn't going to write his character like that when I started but then he kinda began rambling and I couldn't stop. Thanks for reading, please review :) (or Gerold will die!) (lol only joking) (or am I?!) (seriously, am I?) (okay, you better review anyway cause Gerold is looking a bit peaky)
