The morning revealed three stiff but relieved Musketeers, their fourth member had survived the night and was perhaps breathing a little stronger.

Aramis leaned over and brushed the back of his hand over Athos' forehead, checking his temperature.

"He lasted the night, that's a good sign. I think now the only thing we need to worry about is infection and illness; he's so weak he might not be able to fight off a fever. We just need to keep the wound clean and keep an eye on his temperature."

Treville opened the door and stepped into the room, looking relieved at hearing the good news.

"Will he alright under only your care for the day?" Aramis nodded.

"I'll need a hand trying to get some food and water into him, but other than that I can cope on my own. I was thinking of trying to get some broth down him now, if you need the others for the rest of the day. "

"Is there anything you need? I'll get your breakfast sent up while I wake the recruits."

"Clean bandages, fresh water and some cool broth. Thank you, sir."

As Treville went downstairs to speak to the landlord or his daughter, Aramis motioned to Porthos and d'Artagnan to prop Athos up as he unwound the bandages from around his midriff. As his head was settled onto Porthos' shoulder Athos made a little groaning noise but was otherwise limp. The others grinned to each other, relieved that their fourth member had just made some sign of life, no matter how little.

When the bandages were removed and the wound exposed Aramis examined it for signs of infection, but apart from a little redness, to be expected from a large wound, thankfully there were none. Treville's stitches were holding strong, though they had not yet been tested against movement, so the wound was covered in salve once more and wrapped with the bandages that the maid had just brought up.

She also brought up a jug of water and a bottle of wine, wooden cups and a bowl of the broth from yesterday's stew. She smiled at seeing the injured man still alive and under good care as she went back downstairs to retrieve the men's breakfast. By the time she re-entered the room with the tray, covered in plates of bread, cheese, cold meats and eggs and a stack of bowls and eating utensils, a steaming pot of porridge hanging in the crook of one elbow, the broth was being carefully coaxed down Athos' throat by Aramis, still propped up between his comrades. She could see that little by little he was swallowing the liquid. Not wanting to disturb this delicate moment she placed the tray and pot on the sideboard and silently retreated.

By the time Treville got back from checking on the recruits, (this was training, they had to find and make their own breakfast), Athos had been fed and watered to the best of the others abilities and they were just settling down to break their own fast. The captain grabbed a bowl of porridge and a plate of cold meats and eggs and joined them.

As they ate Porthos broke the silence.

"We still haven't decided what to do about the recruits."

"I'm going to let them have a second chance. I let you four have more chances than I bear to think about. Those who feel regret for their actions and will learn from their mistake will stay, those who do not will not be receiving their commissions. Porthos, you will lead today's training, if they don't learn their lesson after you punishing them all day they will never learn and will be sent straight back to Paris."

They all looked displeased at Treville's answer, but any objections they may have had they kept to themselves.

The rest of the meal past quickly as they discussed the itinerary of the day. Porthos was to lead the hand-to-hand training under Treville's watchful eye. Aramis was to stay with Athos and to call for the landlord's daughter to get them if anything happened. D'Artagnan was to periodically check on Aramis to see if he needed anything and for the rest of times help Porthos.

The break for lunch would be short, with the two senior musketeers (against the recruits d'Artagnan was defiantly senior) and captain taking their meals, bought from the tavern, in front of the men, whose only sustenance was the water they could get from the nearby brook (learning to fight through the pain of hunger was an essential skill for a musketeer, you never knew when you might have to skip meals and you still had to be able to function regardless, and they might as well learn it during their punishment).

The afternoon was to progress the same as the morning, and only ended when Porthos decided they had had enough. After another food-less break for the men, Treville was to take them on sword drills. Only when the sun set were they allowed back to their camp to get some food and rest.

Today wasn't going to be a pleasant day for the men who took rumour as truth and assumptions as facts.

Treville assembled the recruits on the patch of dirt and grass that separated the village from the forest. He stood in the shade with Porthos and d'Artagnan leaving the recruits in the sun, squinting in the morning light, some feeling the effects of last night's joyous drinking more painfully than others. Aramis was still in the tavern looking after their fallen friend.

Treville left shade provide by the back of the inn's stables and stood in front of the recruits with a thunderous face. With the sun's light framing him from behind he looked like a demon from the gates of hell.

"Last night you accused one of my Musketeers of being drunk. I know none of you did the honourable thing and check on him to make sure he was alright." There was silence from the recruits. "Had any of you checked you would have found him lying in the upstairs hall, bleeding to death!" He punctuated the last few words with a shout. A few of the men paled, all looked guilty. "As a musketeer you would know not to make assumptions and to find out facts for yourself, not listen to rumours and lies. Because if you do, you could be responsible for the deaths of innocent people and the loss of friends close to you. Because of your negligence and arrogance Athos could now be lying on his deathbed. He was hurt in the line of duty and you just ignored him in your revelry."

Treville regarded the group of now cowering men. "You have today to prove that you are worthy of becoming musketeers. As Athos is indisposed and Aramis is with him, the unarmed combat had been moved to today. Porthos will be leading you. If any of you are still standing by the end of it, and if Athos still lives, I will take you through sword fighting this evening. Do not mistake my leniency for forgiveness; you will not forget this day for the rest of your lives. There are consequences for your actions and your inactions and you will learn to think about them. Athos is a good friend to both Porthos and I and we both will be training you today. We will not be letting you off easy."

He turned. "Porthos, punish them as you like, just leave them in one piece. They do need to be able to get back to Paris." Treville then went back into the inn to check on Athos and Aramis.

Porthos regarded the sorry group before him with distaste. They all were young men, most of them were extra sons of nobility, put into service to gain experience in the world outside their estates, to impress and marry a noble girl or to just to get them out from under the feet of their older brothers as they learned how to be a noble. He had always hated nobles with their selfish and narrow views on the world. They didn't seem to care for anyone lower than their station. How would they feel to find out that they had injured one of their own; Athos, despite having the same noble upbringing as the lads before him, had managed to become a compassionate and conscientious man, even in his own gruff way, and was the only noble ("I gave up the title a long time ago, don't call me Comte. Aramis stop bowing and get on with teaching d'Artagnan to shoot.") that Porthos actually liked.

He shouted for the recruits to pair off and the training began.