The usual doctor that King Louis employed to treat his Musketeers was out on a house call, so a different doctor was brought back to the garrison; a Dr. Lemay. He'd told the Musketeer who had fetched him that he wasn't skilled in gunshot wounds and the like, but the Musketeer didn't know what exactly had befallen Aramis, so Lemay grabbed everything that he might need and had quickly followed. Once at the garrison, he was directed to Aramis' room and he quickly opened the door and went inside.

The men surrounding the bed turned to look at him.

"I am Dr. Lemay," he replied, slightly intimidated. "Here to examine the wounded man."

The other Musketeers glanced at each other, leery of having a doctor that they didn't know treat their friend, but Treville hurried over to him and shook his hand, guiding him towards the bed. "I'm Captain Treville. Aramis is not wounded...it is either poison, or a very strange illness."

At the words 'strange illness', Lemay immediately thought of plague. "Does he have a rash?" he asked, rolling up his sleeves as he stared down at Aramis.

Treville answered, "No."

Lemay was relieved. "Tell me everything."

The next few minutes were spent examining the unconscious Musketeer as he listened to what he was told. When he finished, he looked at the others and detailed what he found. "Fever—thankfully not high, rapid heartbeat, extreme paleness, unconsciousness...along with your account of the dizziness, headache, weakness, and the shaking, it could be a few different serious illnesses, though with the absence of a rash, that makes it harder to diagnose." He sighed. "The notion of poison does indeed seem very possible."

"If we don't know who poisoned him, how are we going to find out what they used?" d'Artagnan asked.

"And how?" said Porthos. "How did they do it without gettin' us too?"

"Doctor," said Athos. "Do you know of any poisons that take three days to get a victim to this state?"

Dr. Lemay shook his head. "No, I'm sorry." He suddenly looked around the room. "Perhaps it wasn't something that he ingested…it may have been absorbed into his bloodstream by something that he touched."

"That makes sense," said Treville. "It would explain why no one else was affected."

Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan started looking around the room at Aramis' possessions, trying to figure out what could have poison on it. They came up empty.

"It may have been something that he took with him on your mission," Lemay said. "Which would have brought him to this state, from the constant exposure."

All three of the other musketeers looked at each other.

"His weapons," said d'Artagnan.

"His sword," Athos clarified.

Porthos suddenly remembered Aramis' odd stumble after he'd been polishing his sword the previous night. He strode over to the table, putting on his gloves as he went.

"Who had the task of cleaning the weapons in the armory four nights ago?" Athos asked Treville.

"I've had the new recruits doing it," Treville said. "Antoine had the task this week."

Porthos picked up Aramis' weapons and gave the handle of the sword a sniff. He smelled the metal, but also something foreign. Without a word, he left the room and headed down the hall and outside, going down the stairs and towards the armory.

Antoine was inside, fiddling with a pistol, and Porthos forced himself to give him a pleasant grin. "Antoine," he said.

Antoine looked up, seeming nervous. "Porthos," he said.

"Can you give these a good cleaning?" Porthos said, handing the weapons over. "They belong to Aramis…I want them perfect for him for when he recovers."

Antoine looked away. "Of course. What ails him?"

Porthos shook his head. "We're not sure…probably just exhaustion. He'll be fine; he's awake and talking. I'm about to bring him some food," he lied.

Antoine smiled at that, though he looked slightly confused. "That's good to hear. I'll have them ready immediately."

Porthos smiled. "Thanks." With that, he turned around and left. Once he was outside, he turned and headed for a window, to see what Antoine would do. He wasn't surprised to find Athos and d'Artagnan already there.

Antoine reached into a pocket and took out a vial, pouring its contents into a bowl and sitting Aramis' sword so that the hilt rested in the liquid. He then picked up the pistol and started to look it over.

"That's it!" d'Artagnan said to the others, excitedly.

Athos drew his own sword and marched over to the door, walking inside while pointing it at Antoine.

Antoine looked up and dropped the pistol.

"What was in that vial?" Athos demanded.

Antoine's demeanor changed from a frightened recruit to a hardened man. "You'll never know."

"Who put you up to this?" Porthos asked. "Tell us and we might let you live."

"I can't do that," said Antoine.

Porthos growled and stalked over to him, grabbing him and punching him in the face.

Antoine fell back and his hand whacked Aramis' sword, which fell off the table and took the bowl of poison with it.

Porthos knelt and grabbed Antoine, punching him again before grabbing his pistol and pointing it in his face.

"It was the Cardinal!" said Antoine, bleeding from his lip.

"The Cardinal?!" said d'Artagnan. "Why would he want to kill Aramis?"

Athos had a pretty good idea.

Porthos turned his head to look at them, and Antoine saw that Aramis' pistol had fallen nearby. He reached out for it, but before he could shoot Porthos, someone else's gun went off, and Antoine was dead.

Porthos stood up, giving a nod of thanks to Athos, who replaced his pistol on his belt.

Athos walked over to the sword lying on the floor and picked it up by the blade, giving the soaked hilt a sniff. He couldn't identify the scent. He looked at d'Artagnan and Porthos. "Hide the body for now." With that, he hurried back upstairs to Aramis' room.

Treville heard him coming and opened the door. "What happened?"

"It was Antoine," Athos told him. "We witnessed him immerse the hilt of Aramis' sword in an unknown liquid. When confronted, he admitted that it was poison. He is dead."

Treville had more questions, but he recognized that Athos didn't want to say anything more in front of Lemay.

The doctor came over and took the sword from Athos, sniffing the hilt. "Strange scent," he said.

Athos nodded.

"There is no way for me to figure out what it is," Lemay said. "I am sorry."

"Do you think Aramis will live?" Treville asked.

Lemay sighed. "He does not appear to be dying. His heartbeat is fast but his breathing is steady and unhindered. As long as the fever does not climb dangerously high, I believe that he has a good chance."

Athos nodded with relief at that, even though the doctor wasn't completely sure. He took the sword back, placing it in a corner of the room where it would not be touched.

Porthos and d'Artagnan came back a few minutes later. "How is he?" Porthos asked.

"No change as of yet," said Lemay. "Nothing can be done but to keep him comfortable until he recovers."

The phrase 'until he recovers' was the best thing Porthos had ever heard.

"If he worsens, be sure to notify me," Lemay told them.

"Thank you, doctor," said Treville, shaking his hand and watching as he left.

Porthos headed over to the bed and looked down at Aramis, who lay immobile with a wet towel across his forehead.

"What did you leave out?" Treville asked Athos.

"Antoine told us that the Cardinal had him poison Aramis," Athos said.

Treville's eyebrows shot up. "The Cardinal?! Why?"

Athos sighed. "Let's just say that his mistress, Adele Bessette, was…enamored of Aramis."

Treville blinked. "Aramis was fooling around with the Cardinal's mistress?!"

"Can't put it that way," said Porthos. "The Cardinal was fooling around with Aramis' woman. She and Aramis had a relationship before the Cardinal even saw her, and they simply continued it behind his back."

"But…" Treville sputtered, before shaking his head. He suddenly realized something. "Why do you speak in past tense? What happened?"

"She went away to the Cardinal's country estate, months ago," said Porthos. "She apparently chose him over Aramis."

"We can only assume that he found out about Aramis and Adele," said Athos. "And this is his revenge."

Treville sighed. "So how are we supposed to stop the Cardinal from trying to kill him again?"

Athos sighed. "That is the question."

TBC