I received several reviews for the last few chapters - all positive which really made me smile. Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reviewed/followed/favourited this story.

Anyways here's the next chapter I hope you like it :D

xxx

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.

Chapter 4:

It didn't take long for Porthos and D'Artangan to realize that the group following them had indeed split up to follow the two groups of musketeers when they had separated at the crossroads.

Unfortunately only a few of the group had been sent to track Laurent and Gerard – whilst this was a relief for Porthos as it meant that the likelihood of the two newbies surviving the attack had increased, it also made him nervous. D'Artangan and himself could take a group of this size, providing the men lacked both teamwork and any abundance of skill. Porthos found himself wishing for his two other brothers right about now. Athos's steadfast presence always calmed him right before a fight and he wouldn't be worrying if he had made the right decision separating as it would have been the elder musketeers choice. Aramis's overly optimistic nature would be making light of the situation, introducing much need levity to the coming battle. Porthos also knew that even if the men were unskilled neither him or D'Artangan would be walking away completely unscathed, even more reason to miss his exuberant Spanish friend.

D'Artangan rode beside his friend in silence – understanding the older mans need to sort through things in his mind though he couldn't help but be concerned at the worry and guilt that kept ghosting his friends features "You know you made the right choice right?" he asked quietly desperately wanting to reassure his beloved friend, Porthos was so wrapped up in his thoughts however that the sound of D'Artangan's voice startled the musketeer slightly, turning to his friend with a confused look D'Artangan continued "in separating I mean. Laurent and Gerard can handle their own, especially against the small group that followed them. Trust me I've seen them in training. They'll finish their group and probably get to the garrison before us, 'Mis and 'Thos will interrogate them something rotten before charging after us, only to find us toasting to our victory with the bottle of wine that Lady Helena gave you before we left." D'Artangan said brightly, secretly pleased when the image of Athos and Aramis interrogating the two new musketeers drew a smile from his brother.

Grunting in agreement Porthos turned to face his little brother, offering the lad a soft smile to convey his gratitude for dragging him out of his thoughts "Right then. They seem content to follow at the moment lets get a close to Paris as we can before they attack. Red Guards get too comfortable with the size of their purses when I'm gone too long" he said with so much seriousness it caused the young Gascon next to him to laugh – the boy no doubt remembering the incident in the tavern several nights previously in which Porthos humiliated several Red Guards spectacularly, which then of course led to a duel/bar fight which the musketeers won… Obviously.

They rode in silence for the most part of the day, their growing nerves about the impending attack silencing any thoughts of conversation either man had.

It was early evening before Porthos spoke up again, his voice startling the young Gascon from his thoughts. "I don't like this" the larger musketeer growled "the only way we reach Paris today is to ride in the dark, 'nd that's just like begging them to attack us"

D'Artangan nodded; it made perfect sense "then we find somewhere to make a stand."

They unfortunately didn't get far in that regard, as it was at that moment that their pursuers decided to make their move.

A shot rang out, followed almost immediately by a short gasp of pain "D'ARTANGAN!" Porthos bellowed, urging his horse nearer to his young – and now injured friend, drawing his sword from its sheathe – parrying a blow from one of the men who'd hoped to get in a blow whilst his attention was diverted. He spared his friend a quick concerned look, not wanting to take his eyes away from the fight.

"I'm good Porthos!" D'Artangan yelled his own attention taken from his friend as he used his pistol to shoot one of the men sneaking up on his brother before dismounting from his horse, kicking one of their attackers in the head as he went D'Artangan delved into the fight "Its just a graze!"

The men swarmed them like ants and Porthos found himself loosing track of D'Artangan. He felt a sickening feeling growing in his stomach when he realized that the men, whilst more than happy to hurt him, avoided any killing blows or from causing any life-threatening wounds. Capture then Porthos mused as he elbowed an attacker in the face, only slightly enjoying the sound of said man's nose breaking at the hit… only slightly.

It was a shout from D'Artangan that broke Porthos's focus. The larger man twisted his head round to the location of the shout, so quickly he was surprised he didn't injure himself, just in time to see D'Artangan roll down the hill having been tackled by a man easily Porthos's size.

His concern for his brother was all the distraction his attackers needed to deliver a strong blow to the musketeers temple, sending the man into oblivion the last words he heard being the group's leader shouting out and order to his men "Tie him up! And bring the boy!"

Opening his eyes seemed like such a monumental task for the elder musketeer and his head hurt like a bitch as well Ergh why did I drink so much Porthos thought to himself, before a sense of wrongness at that statement descended on him and he fought through the pain in his head to try and remember what happened… Lady Helena… Followers… Separated… D'Artangan falling down the hill… Getting hit on the head… WAIT D'ARTANGAN!

Forcing his eyes open once again in a desperate need to see his brother alive and well Porthos first noticed that dawn was breaking Great as if we weren't late enough already he thought to himself Aramis is gonna kill me for being late… Athos is gonna be pissed if D'Art's hurt and Treville's gonna have my hide for getting caught.

A muffled groan from his side drew Porthos from his; frankly alarmingly calm thoughts on their situation. Turning to the source of the noise Porthos saw D'Artangan. Relief flooded through the musketeer before he could properly assess his brother. The lad looked bruised to hell, falling down that hill did the boy no favours. He also had several spots of blood over him, most appeared to be shallow – probably small nicks from their attackers blades. Although the blood pooling on his shoulder caused a growl to emanate from the elder musketeer "Graze my ass!" he mumbled – loud noises not agreeing with his head at present. He also noted, once he tried to reach for the boy that both of their hands were bound.

"The larger one's up!" came a voice, jolting his attention away from his wounded brother "Henri wake up the boy whilst I get the boss… He'll want them both awake for this" the grin the man sent his way was enough to turn his blood cold, even more so when the man named Henri decided the best way to wake up his youngest brother was to kick him in his already undoubtedly bruised, if not broken, ribs. The whimper of pain that escaped D'Artangan as the young Gascon shot up from the pain was more than enough for Porthos to start mentally planning all the creative and inventive ways he could and would kill Henri.

"P'thos" D'Artangan wheezed, trying to get the air back into his lungs after the brutal kick to his ribs

"I'm 'ere lad. Those men have us trussed up good 'nd proper. How you doing?" Porthos asked, the relief of seeing D'Artangan lucid and coherent, even if he was in pain, seeping into his tone.

" 'M fine P'thos just sore"

Any further comment either man wanted to make was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

Both musketeers lifted their heads, intent on showing no signs of pain to their enemies. Only for Porthos to blanch and swear under his breath at the sight of the man approaching them.

"Porthos Du Vallon" the man sneered, as if the name was an insult of the highest order "It's been a while… And look!" he exclaimed turning his attention to D'Artangan, his eyes roaming over the young Gascon – causing him to shift uncomfortably "you brought a puppy with you!"

"Leave the whelp be Corbin! He has nothing to do with this!" Porthos exclaimed, hoping to keep the desperate begging tone out of his voice. He knew what Corbin liked to do to the men he captured, he would spare D'Artangan from that if he could, even if it meant taking his place.

"Tut tut tut Porthos" tsked Corbin, his eyes still roaming over D'Artangan, before sending a profoundly evil grin towards the larger musketeer "he has everything to do with this"