Sorry for making you wait for so long. Busy week. Aramis is finally reunited with his brothers. All but one of the bad guys are captured or killed. (Yes, there is one more!) Thank you again for all of your kind reviews, and for liking, following and reviewing my story!
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Saintonge came to stand beside Athos, asking, "How is he?"
Athos replied, "Alive, but but very badly injured. I will need to tend his injuries before he can be moved."
Saintonge said, "Please consider my home yours until he and your other friend" indicating Porthos, "are well enough to travel. It is the least I can do for all the harm my brother did. They can be tended by my personal physician, if that is acceptable to you."
Athos, touched by the sincerity he could hear in Saintonge's voice, accepted, saying, "We all appreciate your offer of hospitality. Besides the severity of Aramis' injuries, I am very much afraid of infection setting in. The dirt of the cell floor has almost certainly entered the torn skin. His injuries will need to be cleaned thoroughly, sewn and bandaged. We have ascertained that Porthos' wound looks worse than it is, and he should be coming around shortly, for which we are very thankful."
Saintonge told him, "I had locked the men who are still living in the cellar. The lock is strong, and there is no window, so they can remain there until some of my men can come to take them wherever you deem acceptable for justice."
Aramis began to move restlessly as they spoke. Athos laid a hand softly on his head to comfort him, but Aramis flinched from his touch. Athos was startled by his reaction, then realized Aramis, in his half-conscious state, had no way of knowing that it wasn't Blackbeard's men come to torment him once again. His body reacted in fear. Athos leaned down, and whispering in Aramis' ear, said, "Aramis, it is Athos. You are safe now, brother. We will not let anyone harm you again. Rest now."
Athos could feel Aramis' body relax as he spoke to him. He realized that Aramis had been awake enough to feel his touch and hear his voice. He laid his hand on Aramis' head once more, and began to gently run his fingers through his hair, soothing his traumatized brother, who after a few moments, slipped back into sleep.
D'Artagnan had retrieved a bowl of water and some cloths from the kitchen area, and had sponged the area around where the bullet had grazed Porthos's forehead. Then, he had taken the supplies to Athos, so he could begin to treat Aramis' injuries. Turning back to Porthos, he grinned as he saw him awakening.
"Good to see you waking up, Porthos," d'Artagnan teased him. Porthos groaned in response, before all of a sudden freezing, and looking frantically around.
D'Artagnan, who had knelt down in front of him, knew what, or rather who, he was looking for. "Easy, brother, look," he said, as he moved slightly to his left, revealing Aramis and Athos.
"He is badly injured, but alive, Porthos," d'Artagnan said. "Saintonge has graciously invited us to bring you and Aramis to his chateau to recuperate. Porthos, he killed his own brother when Nicholas was trying to escape using Aramis as his hostage. We owe him Aramis' life."
Porthos, silent through all of this, said, "I was a fool barging in here without even looking around me. The enemy was already here, and I should have known better."
D'Artagnan shook his head, saying, "You love Aramis as we all do. You no doubt saw exactly the same thing we did when we first entered the room, Aramis on his knees with a knife at his throat. If that hadn't caught your attention first, I would have been shocked. You couldn't have known your assailant was hiding behind the door. But the bullet just grazed you. You will be fine."
Porthos began to slowly try to get up. D'Artagnan, knowing better than to keep him from Aramis, assisted him in rising and moving slowly over to see how his brother was.
Porthos knelt down beside Aramis, taking in the sight of his beloved brother, lying so still and bloody in front of him. He saw the countless bruises, the burn marks, cuts, gashes. His brother had been horrendously abused. Wordlessly,he looked up at Athos, a question in his eyes.
"We will wash, stitch and bandage his wounds, Porthos, and then we will have to wait," Athos said. "Aramis is strong, and we will all be there for him. If anyone can pull through this, it is our brother. But we need to be as gentle as possible with him. He has been traumatized beyond belief from every direction for some time now, and needs our love and care more than he ever has to pull him through," not voicing his silent hope that Aramis' memory may have started to return, as he needed to see more tangible proof first before getting Porthos' hopes up.
Athos began gently washing Aramis' face, the bruising looking even worse when the dirt had been cleaned away, especially the one on his left temple, which was swollen and almost black. He sponged his torso, from his shoulders to his waist, frowning at the amount of damage done. When he touched the burns with the sponge, Aramis moaned in response, they being extremely tender.
As Porthos reached out a hand toward's Aramis' head, Athos warned him, "Say his name first, and then yours. He doesn't know the hand is touching him in love, as all he has known for days when he is touched is pain, and he recoils in response. Porthos, shocked, leaned down and whispered, "Aramis, this is Porthos. We won't let anyone hurt, you brother." Gently, he laid his hand on Aramis' head. Porthos kept stroking his hair to calm him while Athos continued. Then, he asked d'Artagnan's help in turning Aramis over to work on his back. Porthos hissed when he saw what had been done there.
"What did they use on his back?", he asked, anger nearly boiling from him.
"I am guessing a belt, from the width of the welts," Athos sadly said. Aramis reacted much the same as he cleaned them as he had to the burn marks. These marks had been the most recent, still bleeding as he worked on them.
He knew he needed to stitch them closed, but decided to wait long enough to get him to the chateau, settling for gently wrapping clean cloths around his torso to protect it from more infection as they traveled.
D'Artagnan said,"I will find a few blankets and pillows to cushion the ride for him," heading out into the hallway as he spoke. A little while later, he returned, saying, "Everything is ready. We can move him now."
He and Athos cradled Aramis between them out to the cart, laying him atop the pile of blankets and positioning pillows around him. Porthos climbed into the cart and sat to his right, not wanting to leave Aramis out of his sight. Athos insisted, however, that Porthos recline to give his throbbing head some relief, having seen his brother's grimaces of pain whole coming outside. Porthos growled at him, but did as he asked. Athos moved to sit at Aramis' left, and again first letting Arqamis knowwho it was, began once more soothing his brother once again. D'Artagnan would be driving the cart, Saintonge leading the way on horseback. His brother's body would be retrieved once they all arrived at the chateau, but for now,was laid out in one of the hunting lodge's many bedrooms.
It seemed like such a long trip, as they were very concerned about the many ruts and bumps the cart went over as they traveled. Aramis reacted to some of them with low moans. There was nothing they could do, though, although they were very glad that d'Artagnan had so thoughfully remembered to find blankets and pillows to cushion things enough to take some of the roughness of the ride away.
Saintonge had ridden ahead as he neared his home, and they found that when they got there, he had arranged for two footmen to bring a trestle to carry Aramis upon. They had taken him to the room Marie-Louise had originally had him staying in. She was waiting when they brought him in, exclaiming in horror at what had been done to him. They soon had him lain on the large bed with satin sheets and piled high with blankets. Athos arranged pillows under his head, and pulled the blankets up to his chin. Aramis' skin was ice cold from having been half-clothed in late autumn weather for several days.
Marie-Louise told them the one of the servants had already ridden off to get Saintonge's physician, who lived in the nearby village. Athos asked if she could have some water brought up, as they didn't think Aramis had been given any liquids when he had been held prisoner. She hurried to get the water herself, glad to be able to be of some kind of assistance for the man she had been so worried about.
Bringing back a large ceramic pitcher, and a mug, she laid them on the bedside table. Athos filled the mug, and held it to Aramis' lips, saying, "Aramis, it's Athos. Please try to drink some water for me, brother."
After trying a couple more times, Aramis finally drank, his eyes never opening. Just the little movement seemed to tire him out even further, as he went limp once more after just a few sips. Athos said, "At least he was able to take a little in. We can try again later after the physician has been here."
The physician arrived a short while later, a small, rotund man with smiling eyes. The smile disappeared when he beheld his patient.
"What happened to him?", he asked, utterly shocked at Aramis' condition, probably never having seen the like in his life.
Athos explained what they believed had been done to Aramis, causing the physician to blanch when he heard about the torture. "Oh, the poor man," he exclaimed. "
Attempting to shoo everyone out of the room, the doctor obviously had never encountered the stubbornness of the Musketeers in seeking to remain with their beloved brother. All three of them adamently insisted on remaining in the room. Frustrated, he looked from one to the other of them, a question in his eyes.
Athos told him, "We will stay out of your way. We just have been so afraid we would never see him again, and might even lose him from how he has been tormented. We just need to be here so that he knows he is with those who love him now."
Nodding in understanding, the physician gave them a nod and smiled a little, saying he wished all his patients had friends who loved them that much. Then, he began his work.