35. "DO YOU 'AVE TO GO?"
"Do you 'ave to go?" Porthos muttered as they rose as one and prepared to leave.
"No," replied Athos as he buckled on his belt and steadied his sword at his hip. "We'll tell the King we are indisposed today, looking after you. I am sure he will be sympathetic."
"You could tell 'im I took a turn for the worse?" Porthos ventured.
Athos went very still, before turning a stern gaze on him.
"Yes, because a twisted knee is so very life-threatening," he replied in a tone he intended to be the end of the matter.
It did not work.
"I've got a concussion too," Porthos persisted. "You could tell 'im I fell out of bed and ..."
"Porthos! Enough!" Athos barked, before Porthos's imagination could take flight.
"He has a point, Athos," Aramis said, stuffing the last piece of bread in his mouth. "It can get very boring in here."
"Especially if you're the only patient," d'Artagnan added, working a knot from his neck, as he looked around the otherwise empty infirmary room.
They had all gathered here the previous evening to keep Porthos company bringing food, wine and a pack of cards. Inevitably, they had each taken a cot and slept there, rather than disperse to their own quarters.
Athos sighed.
"Lemay says he is to remain here for three days," he said, as though Porthos was not there. "We each have some time off after today," he said. "We can share him out."
Porthos beamed. He hated being bored.
Athos turned to him and studied him for a few moments.
Porthos withered slightly.
"Behave yourself today. Any damage you cause yourself will be classed as self-inflicted," Athos said. "And self-inflicted wounds are worthy of ..."
"Court Martial," Porthos interrupted. "Yeah, I get it."
"Bit harsh," d'Artagnan said as they headed to the stables.
"He responds to harsh," Aramis smiled, clapping the young man on the shoulder.
"We have found it is the best way with Porthos," Athos added.
"And anyway, you have the first watch. You may as well start this afternoon."
"Can't be too difficult," the young man said.
Athos and Aramis exchanged a knowing look.
oOo
d'Artagnan presented himself later that day, with a spring in his step. This was much better than his normal duty, he thought. Being the newest member of the team had its disadvantages and anything that got him out of stable duty was alright with him, no matter how much he loved horses.
Porthos was dressed, but dutifully laying on his bed, knee propped on pillows.
At the sight of d'Artagnan standing in the doorway, he held up the deck of cards and waggled them, before a low chuckle escaped him.
"Take a seat," he invited, in his friendliest voice.
d'Artagnan's smile faltered.
"I have no money, Porthos," he said warily.
"Who said anythin' about money?" Porthos replied, as d'Artagnan settled carefully on the chair,
Porthos played for favours. Particularly, stable duty, armoury duty and guard duty. By the time they had finished, Porthos had gotten out of all of his mundane duties, which would now be done by his sick-looking young friend.
"As soon as Treville puts me on the rosta, your name goes on instead, yeah?" he laughed as he gathered up the cards.
"You weren't even cheating, were you?" d'Artagnan grumbled.
"Didn't 'ave to," Porthos laughed.
d'Artagnan stood slowly.
"Do you 'ave to go?" Porthos asked, with an innocent look on his face.
d'Artagnan could still hear him laughing as he stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine.
oOo
"I've worked up quite an appetite," Porthos said as Aramis stepped into the room the following day.
Luckily, Aramis was in a good mood, and in no time, he had taken himself off to the mess and returned with a tray of food.
"He's eatin' me out of 'ouse and 'ome," Serge grumbled. "How long is he confined for?"
"Two more days," Aramis replied. "The Captain has him rostered for stable duty and armoury duty after that; nothing too active," he added, ignorant of the fact that it would be d'Artagnan who would undertake those particular duties now. d'Artagnan had been too embarrassed to confess his experience.
Serge huffed. "Can't come too soon for me," he grumbled.
Porthos had only just finished eating when he asked for his sword.
"Why do you want your sword?" Aramis asked.
"Needs sharpenin'" Porthos replied.
"You can't do that from your bed, my friend. And you need to remain still. A concussion is not to be taken lightly."
Porthos sighed.
"Would you like me to do it?" Aramis asked, before he could stop himself.
Porthos broke into a wide smile.
"You are a true friend," he said happily.
"I try," Aramis replied soberly.
Soon, Porthos requested another pillow. Looking around, Aramis saw that the cots were all barren of pillows. He excused himself and went to the laundry to find one, returning to find Porthos with the empty tray in his hand.
"Can you ask Serge if he has any left-overs? I'm starvin'" he asked sweetly.
Aramis curled his fingers tightly into the pillow, before relinquishing it with a forced smile.
"Can you just tuck it behind me?" Porthos asked, his face a mask of innocence.
Aramis bit his tongue.
"Of course, mon ami," he replied, as he bent and placed the pillow just-so behind Porthos.
"Comfortable?"
"Very," Porthos replied, passing him the tray.
Aramis escaped the mess with this life, reappearing a short while later with a loaf of bread and hunk of cheese.
"Is this all he 'ad?" Porthos grumbled.
"Unfortunately, yes. But his left hook is still powerful. He only just missed me," Aramis muttered.
By the time Aramis rose to leave, he was exhausted.
"Do you 'ave to go?" Porthos asked, genuinely saddened.
oOo
The next day:
It was now Athos's turn to keep Porthos company.
Porthos was bored and restless. A challenging proposition.
Soon, he recognised the steady tread along the corridor, as Athos approached.
The door opened and Athos appeared. Reaching up he removed his hat and tilted his head toward Porthos.
"Before you make one of your suggestions," he said quietly, dropping his hat on a nearby table, "I am not playing cards with you and neither am I your errand-boy."
About to make one of his suggestions, Porthos closed his mouth.
It was then that he noticed the large tome that Athos had in his other hand.
"I'm 'ungry," he said, eyeing the book. "Are you 'ungry?"
"No, I am not," Athos replied.
"Thought not," Porthos muttered, sliding down in the bed.
"One day," Athos said, "You will no doubt distinguish yourself in battle. It would be a dereliction of my duty if I did not do all in my power to prepare you for such an honour."
He pulled the chair across and sat, hefting the large book onto his lap. It was a treatise on the art of war. Opening the book - at the beginning, Porthos noted - Athos began to read.
Porthos thought his voice sounded very monotonous, before realising that he had pitched it just-so.
The hours wore on.
Porthos willed the pages to turn.
Athos did not look up. He did not falter. His monotonous tone did not change.
By the time he closed the book, Porthos was exhausted.
Athos looked as fresh as the hour he walked in the room. How long ago was that? Seemed like last week.
Athos stood, moved across the room and picked up his hat.
"You're not going for Volume Two are you?" Porthos asked.
He received no response. Just a bored stare.
Porthos had the grace to look contrite.
He did not ask, "Do you 'ave to go?" this time.
Instead, he straightened his sheet and sniffed.
"Don't come back any time soon, Athos. My head's full of war theory. I'm sure I'll 'ave a lot to thank you for at some point. Consider your duty done."
Athos smiled and tilted his head, closing the door gently behind him.
Outside, he met up with Aramis and d'Artagnan and updated them.
"I am surprised he did not realise that we would compare notes," he said, as he dropped the heavy book on the table.
"How did you know I lost at cards with him?"
Athos and Aramis merely looked at him.
"You knew he'd play for favours!" d'Artagnan replied.
"d'Artagnan, please," Aramis smiled as he passed Athos a glass of wine.
"I've earned this," Athos said, downing it in one.
"I do not think we will be needed tonight," he said. "He is somewhat tired."
"The Wren?" Aramis asked.
"Absolutely," Athos replied.
oOo
Thanks for reading! More soon.