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They were starting to make camp for the night when d'Artagnan got an idea. "You know, we are not very far from the village where that healer lived in that took care of Aramis before. We could see if we might impose on her again?"
Thinking it a good idea, especially to get Aramis into a warm bed while he was unconscious, they prepared to set out again. The village was indeed not far from where they were, and soon, d'Artagnan was dismounting at the door of Amelie's cottage and knocking at the door.
When she opened the door, she was greatly surprised to see them again, but her face revealed shock when she saw Aramis, eyes closed, limp and unmoving on Porthos' horse, held in the saddle by his brother's strong arm.
"Bring him inside quickly," she said. Athos dismounted, and, coming to Porthos' horse, caught Aramis as Porthos lowered him gently down from the horse, before dismounting himself.
They carried Aramis between them into the house, and to the little room he had occupied once before. Amelie had gone ahead of them, turning down the blankets and plumping the pillows. They laid Aramis down, and she immediately began checking him for injuries, before Athos stopped her, laying a hand softly on her shoulder.
"He is unconscious from something that was put into a tart that he ate. All the original men who were after him are either dead or in custody, but we did not know about one man who remained at large. He put either a sleeping powder or another drug of some kind in the tart. We do not know what it was, but it has been causing him to remain in this state since then. He was involved in a carriage accident, but we believe he did not suffer any further serious injuries, mainly bruises, including a bruised rib. But we have been unable to counteract this state that he is in."
She asked him if they had any of the tarts left with them,and they brought her the basket. She studied them for several minutes before saying, "I once worked closely with the doctor who used to live in this village. This powder looks much like the sleeping powder he sometimes gave a patient when they were in a lot of pain. It helped them to sleep. How long has he been like this?"
Porthos replied, "Most of the day."
"Then, if it is the same powder, he should be awakening by morning. Let us see, in the meantime, if we can get a little liquid into him. His mouth is very dry."
They supported him while Amelie coaxed him into swallowing some water. She said they could stay with him through the night, and she would check him in the morning. She seemed confident that he would be coming around by then.
Each Musketeer made themselves as comfortable as they were able and as close to the bed as they could get. Athos had moved a chair near the head of the bed on one side, Porthos on the other. D'Artagnan settled himself down a little further on a blanket on the floor. None of them wanted to be far from their insensate brother that night. As they always did for each other,they each found a place on Aramis to lay their hand, wanting to let them know they were with him, and giving them what peace of mind they could, as well. This way they would also know if he awoke during the night.
But when morning came with bright sunshine coming through the window, they found no difference at all in their brother's unconscious status.
Amelie came shortly afterward, not understanding why he had not awakened.
They were disheartened, fearing that Amelie had mistaken the powder as something she had seen before. What if it was indeed some sort of drug which might be harming their brother?
There was nothing else they could do other than wait. Porthos felt like punching a hole in the wall. He felt so helpless, knowing there was nothing he could do to help his beloved brother. Athos tried to think of anything they could try that had a chance of succeeding, wanting, like Porthos, to do something, anything. D'Artagnan, the newest of their band of brothers, looked from Athos to Porthos, and then down at Aramis, feeling just as helpless in the face of the unknown.
They finally settled back down in their places, not wanting to be anywhere else but beside their brother. Amelie brought a tray to them with breakfast laid out. None of them really felt like eating, but she told them, "He would be the first one to tell you it will not do any good to turn away the food you need to strengthen your bodies. In fact, from what I remember about Aramis, he would probably get rather upset with each of you?", she said, looking at each of them in turn.
Knowing how right she was, they reluctantly took a bowl each and finished her delicious porridge. She smiled as she collected their bowls on her return. She left with the bowls, and came back when she had taken care of the breakfast dishes.
She stood near the door, looking hesitant, but then spoke up. "I am wondering now if Aramis might not have eaten more than one of the tarts? If so, he will be out much longer than I had originally estimated, with a double dose in his system. It could be as simple as that as to why he is still asleep."
The hope in their faces did her heart good. They all loved each other so much, and it had to be extremely hard to sit quietly and do nothing while their brother lay as still as a stone. She sincerely hoped her words would be borne out in reality soon.
Towards noon, Aramis finally began to stir, restlessly moving his head from side to side. They noticed immediately, as they had been hoping against hope that he would revive soon.
Leaning towards him, Porthos called softly, "Aramis, can you wake up for us, please?", laying his hand gently on his forearm.
Aramis shook violently at the contact, suddenly saying in an anguished voice, "Athos! No, please, don't!" each word coming more forcefully than the last. He was now twisting back and forth as they tried to calm him down, calling out to Athos, terror in his voice.
Athos laid his hand against Aramis' cheek, saying quietly but clearly, "Aramis, I am here."
Aramis shook his head, pain in his voice, crying out, "He is dead. Athos is dead. I try...tried...too late...too late," his voice full of his grief for the brother he loved.
"Aramis," Athos said, "I am alive. I was not killed. Open your eyes and see, brother."
But Aramis was in the throes of the nightmare yet, thinking he had seen Athos shot and killed while he could do nothing about it.
His brothers were desperately trying to think of something that would get to him before he hurt himself from his agitation.
"Aramis, ask me something only I would know. Ask, Aramis, and see that I am truly here."
The question seemed to have penetrated Aramis' frenzied mind, as he quieted for a few moments. Just when Athos was beginning to think the idea wouldn't work, Aramis scrunched up his face and very hesitantly asked, "Book?"
Porthos and d'Artagnan looked at each other, then at Athos, the question making absolutely no sense to them. Athos looked just as puzzled for a few moments, before he realized what Aramis was probably asking him, and his whole face lit up as he said, "Ronsard, Aramis. Love Has No More."
Aramis went completely still, and then his eyes slowly opened, looking into the smiling face of his brother. "Welcome back, brother," Athos said.
Looking around, Aramis' eyes went from Athos to Porthos, then d'Artagnan, traveling back to Athos again. "I thought he killed you," he said, his voice still full of his pain.
"No, Aramis, you saved my life. The only person in the world who could make a shot like that saved my life."