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Here is chapter 14. Enjoy!

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Chapter 14

Lemay bent over the restless sleeping Lieutenant, lifted his shirt and checked the scarlet rash on Athos' chest. He pulled the shirt back. Then he felt Athos' fast pulse and quick heartbeat. His body temperature was still high, but the bath had helped to reduce it a little.

He had tried to wake the Lieutenant before but he was now in an even deeper sleep than the last time. He slapped his cheeks, but there was no reaction, calling him didn't work either, so again, he had to press with his knuckles on the sternum of the soldier.

Aramis winced and held his hand to stop Lemay.

"No!" He began, but it was too late.

Athos reacted to the pressure on his chest. The unbearable pain made him gasp, he opened his eyes and slurred:

"Go … away, … mis!"

At this moment, Aramis took over, again softly slapping Athos' cheeks and saying comforting words.

"Come on, Athos! This time it's really me and it's time to wake up! Open your eyes!"

Who is calling me? I want to sleep! I want it to stop. I want to go. Leave me alone. I …

Aramis? Why do you sound so distressed again?

Sluggishly Athos recovered consciousness.

"Hmm … what … A … misssss?" He slurred.

"The Doctor is here to check on you again, he needs to see your beautiful eyes." Aramis teased him.

"Go … way …"

"Sorry, I can't. Because I promised you to help you to get better. Remember?"

Confused Athos registered Aramis' last words.

Better? What?

Suddenly he remembered that he had been poisoned. They wanted answers from him, but he wasn't sure, if he could give any to them.

"Athos, open your eyes!" He heard the gruff voice of Tréville.

Slowly, very slowly he opened them. Lemay didn't wait. He bent over his face and checked first an eye then the other one.

"His pupils are enlarged! It is one of the signs, combined with the rash on his chest, I think you are right."

"Athos can you help me with your other symptoms? We have done that before, remember, I name some symptoms and your tell me yes or no. Do you understand?"

Athos didn't like the loud voice of the doctor, but he was here to help him.

"Yes!"

"Alright, I have already found out that you are running a high temperature, your pulse and heartbeat are too fast. Your throat is burning and hurts you a lot, you are very thirsty but the water doesn't help to get rid of the dryness in your mouth. Sometimes you experience a dull or itching pain in your chest, followed by a bursting heartbeat and difficulties in getting enough air. Your friends told me that you had hallucinations, you have concentration problems remembering things, you are very moody. And we know that you are very exhausted and tired. Do you have a headache?"

Athos had troubles following the many symptoms the doctor had just listed.

"Yeess ...!"

"What about your eyes? Can you see clearly in the distance?

"Yes!"

"And if I am right in front of you, do you see me blurred, then?"

"Yes!" Athos sighed.

Doctor Lemay stepped away from the bed and approached Captain Tréville and Aramis, while d'Artagnan who had positioned himself beside Athos, softly laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey there!" He grinned at his mentor. "I am glad that you are awake again!"

"Only … to find … out … that I was … poi … d." Athos again had difficulty in speaking clearly.

"Shhh, rest your breath. You need to help us to find out when, where and who did this to you, but right now we are waiting for the doctor's opinion."

Athos closed his eyes, he could hear the whispering voices of the Captain, Aramis and Lemay in the background. He was not stupid, all the symptoms the Doctor had just named were signs of belladonna poisoning. And as far as he had learned, there was no antidote against it.

Will they tell me that I don't have many hours left on this earth? Will Aramis ask me if I want to talk to a priest? I wish I could have been a far better mentor for this boy. He still needs me. Tréville needs me with this damn Rochefort making his life complicated and Porthos and Aramis, I need them and they need me. Who is going to protect Aramis when I am not here any longer. He is so stupid and will endanger himself, his child and the Queen. I need to watch his back, I can't let them down. Not now. Five years ago, even one year ago, I was ready, but not now. I don't want to die.

He tried to blink back the tears welling up under his closed lids, but it didn't work. He felt the hand of the young Gascon wiping them away, so softly, bending to speak:

"You will be fine again!" D'Artagnan said in his ear.

"I don't ... want ... to die. Not now ..., not like … this!" He had spoken very softly and d'Artagnan thought that only he had heard him.

The young Musketeer felt his own eyes watering now. He couldn't say a word. Instead he kissed Athos on the cheek before standing again.

"You will not die, my dear friend!" Aramis had stood quietly beside them.

He approached Athos, sat on the edge of the mattress and took his shaking hand in his. He held it firmly to his chest so that Athos could feel his beating heart, he locked eyes with him and suddenly, he could no longer look at this hurt expression. As a lump formed in Aramis' throat he feared that the dams would break without warning, so he tried to hide his face and the only place he found was Athos' chest. He slowly bent forward until his forehead hit the other man's shoulder. Not letting go of the too warm hand, he breathed in deeply and tried to silence his sorrow. He turned his head and brushed his lips on Athos' ear to make his vow:

"Not, as long as I can help it! Do you hear me? You are not alone! We will fight this! The doctor just told me how to move on with your treatment and he agrees with me that the dose you have received was less fatal than we thought."

He sucked in a shaky breath before continuing, not sure of the steadiness of his voice.

"Your body is still fighting against it and we are helping you. Porthos, right now is trying to find out more about belladonna and he is sure that he will find some information. In the meantime we should find out when and where you were poisoned. Alright?"

Aramis had whispered his words into Athos' right ear and felt the furtive brush of fingers on his head then Athos whispered:

"Al … right!"

Doctor Lemay gave his last instructions and was just about to return to the palace as Porthos burst into the room. Breathless, he looked from one face to another, then he approached Athos and knelt next to him.

"I have just heard about an antidote, I just need to figure out where to find it and then you will be better in no time, so keep on fighting!"

Athos tried to smile. That was Porthos.

"There is an antidote?" Doctor Lemay asked curiously.

"Yeah, an old woman from Africa has told me in the Cour des Miracles. Sometimes women are taking a bit of the juice of the fruit to make themselves … er … well ..."

"I understand!" Lemay nodded. "Move on!"

"It can happen that they take too much of this they take a bean from Ethiopia, that is brewed as a hot drink, as an antidote."

Porthos started to look through his clothes.

"Here, I have some notes how often this drink has to be consumed."

Lemay looked at the small sheet of paper that Porthos had given to him.

"Do you recall the name of the bean?"

"Yes, it was … wait flea, no fee … it sounded a bit like the name of a friend of mine, but only the ending. Wait ... yeah ... coffee beans! That's the name. The drink is called coffee."

Lemay made several steps back, gasped out loud and then grabbed his bag.

"Unbelievable!" He murmured as he started to leave the room.

Tréville had to call him back:

"Doctor?"

"By pure chance, I obtained some coffee beans from a Dutch merchant today. He even explained to me how to prepare the beverage. I will … I will be back in an instant."

"Take d'Artagnan with you. He'll help you, Tréville ordered."

As Lemay ran out of the room followed by an astonished Gascon, silence spread in Athos' room. Porthos went over to Aramis who wasn't sure of what he should say. He patted his friend's shoulder.

"See, sometimes you only need a little bit of luck."

Athos felt dizzy, the loud screaming did not help his headache.

"Hold on a bit longer my son! Help is on its way." Tréville pressed Athos' hand. Silent tears made their way over his cheeks.

Tréville cleared his throat:

"So in the meantime, it is time to find out when and where you were poisoned. So we need you awake a little longer. Can you manage that?"

"I will … give it … a try!" Athos said weakly.

XXXXX

Milady observed from a distance the two men running up the stairs of the entrance of the palace. They were in a hurry and nearly collided with Rochefort who was on his way to leave the palace. Milady did not like the new Captain of the Red Guards, he had something devilish in him and he wanted more and more power. She tried to avoid him as often as she could, but with her new position at the palace that was not so easy. As she came nearer she recognised the two running men as d'Artagnan and Doctor Lemay. Curious, she followed them.

Lemay looked hectically around his office. He had left the note for the coffee on his desk, he was sure. While going through his papers he prompted d'Artagnan to take one of the bags containing the coffee beans hidden on a shelf.

"Shall I take the whole bag with us?" The young man asked.

"I would advise it!"

"We have to prepare the beverage with hot water, I think it is better, to do this at the garrison. It's easier for us to bring it to the patient then."

D'Artagnan lifted the sack onto his shoulder.

"Ah, here it is!" Triumphantly, Lemay held the sheet of paper in the air. He reread the text and said: "Yes, we can prepare this beverage in Athos' room."

D'Artagnan was ready to return.

"Let's go doctor!" He urged.

"Wait!" Lemay told the Gascon, remembering that he had read something about belladonna in one of his books.

He went to his shelf, pulled a very heavy book out and quickly flipped through the pages. D'Artagnan tried to stay calm. Athos needed help and he needed it soon. He was just ready to say "can we go?" when Lemay exclaimed, "Glad that I checked it".

Without another explanation he stood up, went to the other side of his room and took a small package from a closed locker.

"This, my young friend, we will need as well!"

"What is it?" D'Artagnan asked curiously.

"It is a potent drug that we can give to Athos for his immense pain. His throat is hurting him and it is very dry. I have read that patients with belladonna poisoning have difficulties with drinking and talking because of this unbearable pain. The pain can interfere with the breathing as well. We have to reduce his pain to take the stress from his body. But …" He looked at the Musketeer. "We can only give him a small quantity. It is called Laudanum. Now, I am ready to go."

Milady had approached the door of Lemay's office and was eavesdropping. As she heard the men coming back to the door she hurried to take several steps away. D'Artagnan opened the door and nearly collided with her. Surprised, he took several steps back and nearly dropped the sack.

"What a lovely surprise!" Milady told d'Artagnan with a bright smile. "What are you doing here?" She asked him, moving her body like a cat hunting a bird.

Her eyes shone and she was now too close, her jasmine perfume invading his nostrils like a drug.

"I am sorry Milady, not now, we are in a hurry!" Lemay had already passed him and was hurrying back to their horses. D'Artagnan wanted to follow him, but Milady blocked his way.

"Is a Musketeer ill?" She asked a little too curiously.

D'Artagnan wanted to ignore her.

"I really have to go!" He tried to get out of her way.

"This is the way you respect me after I saved your life, d'Artagnan?" Milady said reproachfully.

D'Artagnan still holding the heavy sack on his shoulder, looked at her.

"Another time we can chat, but right now I have to help the doctor. One of our Musketeers is severely ill and believe me, I am thankful that you saved the King's and my life!"

"Who is it?" Milady wanted to know now and her tone had become urgent.

D'Artagnan not having enough time for her games, fastened the grip on the sack. Then as he finally passed her he said:

"It's your husband. Athos!"

Without turning around or waiting for a reaction from this scheming woman, he hurried after Lemay and prayed that Athos was still alive and fighting this horrible poison.

XXXXX

In the meantime, Athos' room

"Alright, let's concentrate on Thursday! Porthos has told us that your first symptoms appeared in the night from Thursday to Friday. Can you remember where you were that day?"

Athos had no idea what day it was. Confused he looked into Aramis' eyes. Tréville had seen that expression before in his office on Friday afternoon. Athos' eyes had looked in the distance and his normally awake eyes had been unfocused. With his enlarged pupils he definitely had difficulty seeing, but right now his stare reminded him that his Lieutenant felt lost.

"Athos, can you remember the day you helped me in my office with the palace guard!" Tréville tried to help.

Athos tried to ignore the pounding ache in his head.

"That was the day … when d'Artagnan beat … me, right?"

"Let's say it was the day when you slipped on the wet ground." Porthos helped him.

"Yes, I … do ... recall."

Athos still had problems in articulating and his throat still hurt him a lot. Every time he had to speak or drink, he could feel the horrible dryness in his mouth and the pain both things caused.

"Alright, let's get back to this day, before that, you helped with the stables."

"Hmm ... I tried," Athos admitted "... and ... I missed morning muster, I am so ..."

"Don't think about that, Athos!" Tréville tried to stay calm.

Athos needlessly blamed himself for everything. He was accurate, he was proud that he followed orders and he was much too stubborn to forgive himself a mistake.

"We know why you overslept that day. Poison. You know." Aramis tried to help and ease the tense atmosphere in the room and the night before this morning muster, what can you remember?"

"Porthos had to carry ... me home. Por ..., I am … sorry … your … boots."

"Rubbish, Athos. Forget the boots. You would have done the same for me. Can you recall something else from before that night?"

Athos tried to remember.

"I ... was ... at the … palace … No … Anne … kissing ..." Athos sobbed.

Aramis and Porthos exchanged irritated glances, while Tréville suddenly understood. Athos had seen his wife kissing the Monarch of France. A shocking situation even if the man had not been poisoned.

"And after that, you went to the tavern?"

"Ye … ssss!" Athos slurred.

He wanted to sleep, to close his eyes and simply forget but his brothers wouldn't let him forget.

"You have to stay awake for the coffee!" Aramis told him and slapped him slightly on his cheeks, so Athos opened his eyes again.

"That's it! Were you stung by a bee or something that day?"

"Not that I … Mis. It stings … the woman … it's dark, and … c … cold … the wind … hur … sss." Athos slurred again and started to have difficulties breathing properly.

While Aramis and Tréville tried to work out what Athos was trying to tell them, Porthos helped his bedridden brother to sit up again and pounded on his back.

"Try to cough! Yeah, that's it!" Porthos encouraged him.

He glared worriedly at the medic and his Captain and his eyes asked them how long they would be tormenting him with enquiries.

As Athos' breathing eased, Aramis spoke again.

"Good, Athos, are you with us now?"

He laid a hand on his forearm and continued:

"You said, a woman, who is the woman?"

"The woman … in the alley … the wind is so cold and it hurts … and … no, wait … it's not that day … after … I went …"

"Calm down, Athos, think, take your time." Aramis soothed him.

"Time!" Porthos snorted bitterly.

"Hush, Porthos!" Aramis chidded. "Now, Athos, you know it's important, try to concentrate. Who is the woman?"

"I … remember … now … My scarf …When d'Artagnan …"

He stopped abruptly and tried to sit up. He scanned the room anxiously.

"Where … where … is …"

"Shh … d'Artagnan is fine. He will be back soon …"

Aramis tried to sooth him again, taking his hand, but his friend was more and more agitated, moving his legs restlessly.

"So, what about d'Artagnan, the scarf and the woman? Is there a connection between that and your wound? Try to tell me, slowly, breathe deeply if you can."

"Remember, the fight … d'Artagnan … he …"

He struggled again to catch his breath. Aramis squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"D'Artagnan borrowed my scarf for the …"

"Oh right, I understand. He used your scarf as a glove … But what does it have to do with this?"

"It was … more … more …" He tried to smile. "More a cobweb than … my precious scarf … after that … so … I went to … Madame Mireault's shop … Rue … rue … can't ... near Rue Férou … it's so dark … I'm cold … he seems in a hurry … or ... sheeee … the fig … ure."

Porthos brought his fist to his mouth as Athos' mind began to wander again. His eyes were huge with fear and sorrow.

"Calm down, shhh ... So you went to that shop to have your scarf repaired. Just say yes or no."

"Ye … ss …"

"Then, what happened? You went to fetch it a few days afterwards?"

"Two …"

"Alright, can you remember something, or someone …?"

"I paid … her smile … she is so frail … she … her …"

"Athos, look at me!" Aramis seized his two hands and approached his face. "Look at me. Concentrate. What happened next? Remember, we need to know how you got that scratch on your chest."

"Oh … She is a … good … seams … sss, but she … I'm so … happy … to … have it back … She fastens it … at … once … but … it …hurts, it hurts, my scarf … it hurts … there, just there …" Sluggishly he pointed with his hand on his chest.

He reached a hand to his neck as if to touch his scarf and closed his eyes trying to breathe deeply.

"No, no, no, no, Athos, please … don't …" Aramis pleaded.

"And she … presses it … it hurts … but she presses even further … Her hand … She continues … But it hurts …" Athos continued. "I try … to … tell her … but she … smiles … why does she sm … her eyes … green ... wet …"

Aramis cupped his cheeks and rubbed them frantically with his thumbs. At last, a small strip of green appeared and Athos continued, breathless:

"She is absent …"

"What?"

"The … face … absent ..."

"Shh … Stay calm …" Aramis soothed him.

"Absent-minded" He made a pause. "She … I want to know … know why … it hurts, like a bee is caught … cau … ght in it … and … I ff … ind it." He closed his eyes again.

"Athos, just one word. What did you find?" Aramis urged him.

"Two … f … aces …"

"Faces?"

"Aramis, leave him alone. Please!" Porthos pleaded in a weak voice.

Tréville squeezed his shoulder. They had to know, even if it was a terrible ordeal for their friend.

"No … I want to sssay … the faces, in the fabric ... She had ll … eft it … in the fabbb … fabric."

"Stay awake. Just one more thing, please, then you can sleep. Left what? What were these faces? Why are you saying leftit?"

"Aramis, stop it!" Porthos almost shouted.

"It's … ight … Po … os." Athos tried to reassure his friends, he had to tell them. "T … was … a … a … pin … a long … pin." He added breathless.

They all stayed silent, trying to understand.

"Where is this pin, now?" Aramis asked quietly.

"Floor … Mmmmh … hurtsss …" He sucked in a shallow breath. "Thr … in the gutt … gutter … thr ..."

"Shhh…, now, I understand."

Aramis bent forward and brushed his lips on the feverish forehead before guiding his friend's head onto the pillow.

"Sleep, my friend."

And his eyes met the hurt and terrified look of Porthos while Tréville tried to control his own emotions.

XXXXX

Calm.

Whispered words.

Someone's face a few inches from his.

A low rumble in his ear.

Calm.

He closes his eyes.

He breathes in a fragrance of lavender and straw.

Calm.

Rough linen against his burning cheek.

Salted water soaking the pillow.

He tries to turn his head, tries to hide his shame.

A hand in his hair. Caressing. Soothing.

Calm.

It will sting. A lot.

He knows it will.

But he flinches nonetheless.

He tries to escape.

Turns his face again towards the soothing voice.

Two hands cup his face now.

The low rumble at his back.

The warm breath on his face.

Calm.

And the pain again. Excruciating.

Gentle thumbs caressing his cheekbones.

Let go. Let go.

He tries to stay awake.

He needs to know.

And the pain. Again. Again.

The voice at his back apologises.

The voice at his back is broken.

The voice in his ear is trembling.

Let go, brother.

Don't fight.

The lovely doll? He asks.

Calm. Silence.

Deafening silence.

Safe. She is safe.

Now he can let go.

A hand wiping away his tears.

Let go, brother.

So, he lets go.

To be continued …