Thank you so much for all your comments, it was really interesting to read all your different ideas, what might have befallen Athos. Alright we were a little mean and mixed the symptoms of the poison with that of a heavy cold, Athos managed to fetch due to the cold and rainy weather and the missing scarf that couldn't protect his neck from the cold. That's why he has a high fever as well and not only hot dry skin.

So, what do you think, are d'Artagnan and Aramis right, is it really belladonna or another poison? And is there an antidote?

Find out more about it in this chapter.

Liz: Thank you so much for your review. Well, yes it took you all a while to figure it out. So who is behind the attack against Athos? Or wasn't the poison meant for him … and he was simply at the wrong time at the wrong place …

Chapter 13

Athos woke with a start, some sounds had brought him back from his restless sleep and he could feel the itching getting worse on his chest. He had tried to move his hand to the spot that bothered him under his shirt, but Porthos had managed to pull his hand back, every time he tried to scratch the itch. Why had Aramis checked his bare chest? His skin felt heated there and it was itching more after Aramis had touched the sore spot.

He was distracted as the door was opened and he weakly turned his head to see who was coming. He opened his -less feverish- eyes and could see Tréville approaching him, the nearer he came the less clearer he could see him. He squeezed his eyes shut several times to get rid of his unclear vision but it did not work.

In the meantime, Porthos offered the Captain his chair, but Tréville refused it and pulled another seat next to him. Aramis followed his example, so that they sat in a half circle around Athos' bed.

"Athos, I need to talk to you … well, we all need to talk to you" Tréville made a gesture to Aramis "and we have several questions. Do you think you are fit enough to answer them?"

"Have I done … any … thing … wrong?" Athos gasped slightly agitated by the sudden change in his Captain's behavior towards him.

Tréville was completely taken aback by Athos' question and tried to gather his thoughts before he continued. Gladly, he appreciated Aramis' supporting input:

"No, not at all Athos!" Aramis helped. "Why don't you relax and I … we'll explain it to you?"

Athos could sense the tense atmosphere and suddenly his eyes watered.

"It is … not … the flu … am … I … right?" He gasped.

"We don't know for sure … my son … Athos!" Tréville said softly and rested his right hand on the sick man's right hand.

"What is … it … then?" Athos' breathing troubles had returned.

He tried to stay focused and concentrated but all he could see were three blurred forms in front of him. Frustrated, he closed his eyes, he was tired of all of this. Tired of being forced to lie in his bed, tired of not knowing what was wrong with him, tired of the concerned looks from his friends, tired of his dependence on them.

He sighed out loud and tried to catch his breath again, but it became harder and harder.

"I … can't …!"

Athos tried to breathe, but he had difficulties sitting up by himself. He was still too weak to raise his upper body without help. Tears were now running down his face ending in his beard.

"Easy, easy, it's alright!" He heard Tréville's soothing voice.

He felt two strong arms lifting his torso back into an upright position. Porthos. He gently put some pillows behind his back and from a distance he could hear Aramis' soft voice relaxing him. A warm hand was back on his chest and he heard the words In and out … in and out …

Aramis' palm rested on his friend's chest and as Athos' breathing started to even out he took a second look at Athos' bare chest while opening the collar of his shirt again. The scarlet spot was still there. From this part of skin the heat radiated.

Oh Athos this must hurt so much. Why haven't you said anything before? Wait, he had, but they had thought the pain was coming from his accelerated heart beat.

Aramis softly searched the area and found a small spot that looked like a sharp needle had injured the skin, now he was certain, Athos had been poisoned but when and where? They had to find out. While Aramis pulled back the blanket over Athos' chest, Porthos had started to wipe Athos' tears away with a wet cloth. Gently, very gently he dared to touch his friend's face. Well aware that at the first sign that Athos was uncomfortable he would stop, but his brother accepted his help and comfort.

"I am afraid, Athos … that … we ...!" Tréville said very softly. "We think that you have been poisoned."

Athos felt dizzy, but somehow not surprised. He could hear Porthos' surprised voice in the background as he tried to sort his own thoughts and feelings that hit him at this moment.

It never gets easier, never! You could take the easy path, a nasty cold, but no, you … you have to take the hard road with lots of stones on it, so that it is hard to pass and move onwards. Poisoned. But why? How? Where?

His head was spinning, he opened and and closed his eyes several times to calm and steady himself.

"Woahh, who would poison Athos? This is ridiculous!" Porthos exclaimed.

He put a protective hand on his friend's shoulder. Angrily the street-fighter looked at his Captain.

Oh I know at least one person. Milady, Anne … Athos thought, thinking of her right now.

He was reminded of her soft touch, her good smell, her beautiful shining eyes and her bitter hatred and lust for revenge during the last year but he didn't want to announce it out loud.

"How certain are you?" Porthos asked a little more quietly, realising that his loud voice must have hurt Athos' ears.

"A few minutes ago I would have said it is only one assumption of many, but I have again inspected your chest Athos." Aramis made sure to not only talk over the head of their exhausted patient, but with him too. "You have a scarlet rash there, Athos." He softly touched Athos' shirt over the spot with his hand to mark it. "And I assume it must be itching very badly."

"Hmmm …," was Athos' quiet answer as he again attempted to check the area of the spot with his right hand. Now that Aramis had mentioned and softly touched it, the itching had come back pounding heavily. He tried to scratch himself again, but Aramis held his hand tight.

"Don't!" He said softly but firmly. "I will find something to ease your pain as soon as I can. Don't worry. Calendula mix with honey is very efficient, it's calming but, please, don't scratch it like that, you will make the pain worse and also the state of your skin."

He wanted to put Athos' hand back under the blanket but Athos fastened his grip around his wrist and so Aramis did not let go. With his thumb he softly drew small circles on the back of Athos' hand, he sensed the anxiety from his brother about the news he still had to cope with but his questions would soon come and he feared them.

"I have found a very small spot that looks like the injection of a needle or another sharp item in the middle of your chest. Do you recall feeling a sting like a bee-sting several days ago? Let me see, on Thursday?" Aramis asked.

Athos' head was spinning. He tried to concentrate on what Aramis was saying, but he couldn't. He felt confused and afraid at the same time. His hand gripped Aramis' harder.

"What …?" He groaned. "Why …?" And finally "Is there an … anti … dote?"

Aramis felt so helpless in this moment. His brother wanted and needed answers and reassurance, but he himself had just stated in front of Athos' room that there was none. At least he did not know about any.

Tréville took over:

"Athos, listen to me, d'Artagnan is on his way to get Dr. Lemay. The doctor is very well qualified, I am sure he will know of a way to help you."

Athos looked into the pale blue eyes of his Captain, his reassuring smile helped the ill man to calm down a little. He felt Porthos' mouth at his ear:

"Whatever it is, we will fight this together. Listen to me, you, my friend, will be fine again! That's a promise!"

Porthos' unstoppable positive belief relaxed him even more and Aramis? He looked from Tréville to Aramis.

"If you were poisoned by a high dose of the plant venom you would be dead by now. So, you have survived the last three days and your body is still fighting against it. I am not an expert, but I think that the dose you have been given was high, not too high to be deadly immediately but you still need to fight against it."

He bent down over Athos and looked straight into his greenish eyes that shimmered blue, maybe because of the blue colour of his blanket.

"You are strong and you will fight this, I know you and we are here at your side to help you! Do you understand?"

Athos nodded and exhausted, he closed his eyes. He felt the tiredness overwhelming him, too many questions were racing through his mind and he felt a headache coming on. After the bath his body was too weak and it succumbed to another restless sleep. Aramis felt how Athos' grip became weaker until his hand fell limp onto his stomach. The medic decided that Athos needed the sleep, so he did not try to wake him up again.

"Let's give our friend some rest, his body is still weak. We'll ask him the important questions, when Dr. Lemay is here, we'll have to wake him then anyway.

XXXXX

Silently the three Musketeers stepped away from Athos' bed and gathered at his door.

"Do you know what kind of poison we are dealing with?" Porthos whispered in Aramis' direction.

"D'Artagnan and I think that it must be belladonna, because of the symptoms but Dr. Lemay has to finally tell us, if we are right."

"That's not good!"

Porthos ran a hand through his hair.

"If it is really the poison of belladonna, then …"

An idea formed in Porthos' mind.

"I think I maybe can ask around about the treatment!"

Tréville looked at him impatiently:

"How?"

"I am not quite sure, but I know some people in the Cour des Miracles, who are … let's say ... experienced with that kind of poison."

"What are you proposing?" Tréville asked Porthos.

"If Aramis and d'Artagnan both say that it's belladonna, then I don't need confirmation from the Doctor. We are losing precious time. Sitting around and waiting is not what I prefer to do. So, I will go in the Cour des Miracles and ask around."

"Are you sure you want to go there alone?" Aramis asked. "Your thigh is still …"

"Aramis really, my thigh is healing very well and I'm old enough to walk through the streets of my former life, besides the people know me there, so I'll be safe. Just make sure that he is still fighting and breathing until I come back!"

"Porthos is right Aramis! We have to use every single resource we have to fight for Athos' life." Tréville turned to Porthos: "Make sure you come back alive!"

"I will!" He promised.

And then I will hunt this person or these persons down who did this to Athos! He thought angrily.

With these words said, the streetfighter left the room. Tréville looked at Aramis.

"What else can we do?"

"Right now, Captain, I am afraid, we have to wait and we have to be there for him."

Aramis looked worriedly at his sick friend.

"Who has poisoned him?"

"I don't know Aramis, right now we can only speculate, we'll have to speak to him first. When we know where he was poisoned, we can start to trace back the perpetrator, but right now we don't know, if it has anything to do with the trade summit or if it is a personal vendetta against him."

Tréville slowly returned to his seat and with a heavy sigh he sat down. This morning he had thought that his day couldn't become any worse but he had been wrong. Aramis could see the worried look on his Captain's face and realised that he needed some time alone with his Lieutenant.

"I will be back in no time! I just need to get some fresh air and I will try to find some more herbs with which we can try to reduce his fever. I also need to find a salve for his rash, there must be Calendula oil in the infirmary." With these words Aramis excused himself and hurried outside.

The door slammed and Tréville noticed the flinch in his Lieutenant's body. A bit lonely he sat there, deep in thoughts.

Who has poisoned you? Did you overhear something that you shouldn't hear or has Milady finally decided to get her revenge?

He could see new sweat forming on Athos' forehead and he started to sponge it. Quietly whispering encouraging words into his ear, he tried to calm himself and the fretful sleep of his sick Musketeer.

XXXXX

Someone is shooting. Someone is shouting.

Fire on his back. Ice on his face.

Clattering of metal in his ear.

Metallic tang on his lips.

Someone is shouting.

He knows the voice. He knows the voices.

You will have to answer for your crime.

Words. Shouted words.

Crime. Trial. Rape. Die.

He knows the voice. The voice broke the lovely doll.

Another shout. Another voice.

So many voices.

Hands. Hands on his face. Hands on his arms. Hands on his hands.

Let me go. Don't touch me.

Gentle hands on his face. Soft hair brushing his forehead.

Warm breath on his temple. Warm words whispered in his neck.

Hands on his wrists.

Warm soft leather against his back. Warm chest against his chest.

You are safe, son.

We are here, brother.

Now he can fall.

Darkness again.

Welcomed darkness.

XXXXX

A little earlier at the palace

"Oh, I love to taste new things from other countries, Monsieur Van Dyk." The King smiled widely at the Dutch merchant showing his white teeth.

"This new drink is called coffee, your Majesty. You have to drink it hot and some people pour honey and milk it it. It tastes very bitter. I have to warn you."

"Excellent, I like exotic tastes, besides who wants to drink tea every time. Tea reminds me of cold and being sick and you say that this drink is a perfect drink to start the day."

"Exactly your Majesty. I have experienced that I feel fitter and more awake when I drink a cup of it in the morning."

"Then, I will give it a try. Come, Doctor Lemay, you should taste it with us."

"Me?"

Dr. Lemay looked a bit perplexed. He had just been to see one of the court ladies of the Queen. The poor thing had caught the same illness as the Musketeer Athos, the flu, but she had already started to cough, so he was sure that she would be on the road to recovery soon. He was more worried about the Musketeer, he hoped that they could have brought his fever down, otherwise he feared that Captain Tréville would lose one of his best men.

He had just left the Queen's quarters when the Dutch merchant arrived and before he could do anything about it, he was invited to join the King, Rochefort and several other noblemen and merchants.

"Now, now, Doctor, if the King wishes you to taste one cup of this "coffee", you should be honoured and not ask such questions." Rochefort teased the Doctor.

The Dutch merchant encouraged Dr. Lemay. He poured the hot beverage into a beautiful cup of white porcelain adorned with blue and pink flowers and gave it to the doctor.

The next cup he held out to the King.

"Anybody else?"

Rochefort avoided taking one, instead he asked:

"I am sorry, I have forgotten, but from where did you obtain this exotic drink?"

"It is shipped from West Africa. It is quite expensive, but the people I have sold it too love it. The Arabs grow coffee beans in their fields and from these beans we obtain this hot drink. I have brought some sacks with me, so if you like it, I am looking forward to selling it.

"Please, try it, too!"

Rochefort tried to refuse Monsieur Van Dyk's offer, but he couldn't. So he also ended up with a cup of coffee in his hand. He smelled the bitter odour and tried fervently to find a way to excuse himself.

"Come on, Rochefort! Where is the fun in it, when we don't try new things?"

King Louis was somehow delighted by the facial expression of the Captain of the Red Guards.

"If it pleases you, your Majesty, I am delighted to drink with you."

From the distance the Duke of Savoy watched the whole spectacle. Glad that Louis hadn't asked him by now to join in this other form of a "tea party".

Rochefort took a gulp, he didn't like the bitter taste, but he didn't dare to say it. So he added: "I suppose with honey and milk it will taste much better. What do you think Doctor Lemay?" Rochefort glanced in his direction.

The doctor took a sip. As a scientist he was used to trying different substances. He had thought he would despise it, but to his own astonishment he liked the taste which was a little bitter but not bad at all.

"Your Majesty, I like it."

He took another sip and now it was Louis' turn. He too drank a gulp, but he had forgotten about the "hot" in the drink, so he ended up spitting it onto the marble floor.

Noticing what had just happened the Doctor hurried to give him a cup of cold water and eagerly the King drank it.

"I think, Doctor, we have different tastes, it tastes awful, much too bitter." Louis complained like a little child.

"Oh, I like strong and bitter teas. I should have warned you, your Majesty. It's a habit I accustomed myself to during my studies in Italy." He slightly bowed in the direction of the King.

"Bitter herbs can help to cure diseases, if you will allow me, I will order some of the coffee beans for our medical supply."

"Now, that sounds like a good idea. Don't you think Monsieur Van Dyk?"

The King concentrated on the merchant who had paled several minutes before and now eagerly nodded.

"So, if that is settled I leave you in the hands of our good doctor, he will tell you how much he needs."

"This way please, Monsieur Van Dyk."

Lemay showed the Dutchman the way to his office where the doctor made notes on how to prepare the hot coffee. He had just stored several of the sacks when a loud knock on the door startled him. Even before he could give an answer the door was opened and a breathless d'Artagnan stood in front of him.

"It's worse, isn't it?" Lemay feared that Athos had hardly survived the bathing and was now suffering from a heart attack.

"The bathing was good for him. We managed to take the fever down. But …!"

"But what?"

"We don't think that Athos has the flu, we think he was poisoned with belladonna!"

A shocked Lemay grabbed his bag and followed the Gascon to the horses. How could he not have seen the symptoms of belladonna poisoning, he asked himself. As both men mounted their horses a dark figure stood at a window in the palace, watching the doctor riding away with the young Musketeer. So my plan seems to have worked … farewell Athos, the Doctor will not be able to help you.

To be continued …