The force of the bullet's impact toppled Aramis back like a falling tree.

The force of the gun's recoil threw Féli backwards and he slumped like a broken reed.

The force of a mother's love hit Aurélie in the heart as she dashed to her child.

But Raymond caught her and she stared into the eyes of madness. She would have given anything to slaughter this man like a pig. Every fiber in her cried for her son who was only a step away and yet unreachable. The evil holding her was overpowering.

Raymond grabbed Aurélie's chin and turned her head towards Aramis. "That's what happens to people who stand up against me. They die."

Seeing the victims of Raymond's atrocious deeds, a broken child and a dead friend, she wriggled out of Raymond's grip with her bound hands, not resigning to give up and she lashed out at Raymond. The man laughed and parried her attack, pushing her to the ground as if she were a wet bag.

Raymond's smirk turned his face hard. "You don't recognize the grace of God, even when it is standing right in front of you. Have fun digging the grave." He smiled. "That's two dead musketeers in one life. What a pity." He chinned to his men. "Let's go. We've accomplished our mission, the Spanish spy is dead and the honor of our King is restored. We have saved France." He spat in the direction of Aramis' lifeless body and, without turning around again, walked back across the bridge to the camp, followed by his men.

Aurélie fell to her knees and pulled Féli towards her. Her hands groped the boy as if the inner horror of his soul had manifested itself somewhere on his little body. Aramis had prevented the worst with his sacrifice, but the dread of the last hours had ended Félicien's childhood forever.

Félicien began to cry. The pitiful sound broke the last barrier inside and Aurélie drowned in the flood of her feelings. She closed her eyes and cried together with her child, clutching each other tightly.

"Maman, Maman..."

Nudged by the insistent voice, Aurélie blinked herself free from the vortex of her emotions. "I am so sorry, my boy! I'm so sorry... I... I..."

"Maman, Aramis!"

Aurélie shook her head. "I don't know how I can ever compensate for this, but I promise, I'll..."

Félicien slipped off her embrace. "Maman, listen to me. Aramis, we have to help Aramis!"

Aurélie swallowed. Two dead Musketeers in one life... She sank in as if someone had just put the blame of the world on her. Had my son turned into a murderer? Aramis had laid down his life to prevent Féli from killing his own mother and the image of him showing Féli the way to his own death with a smile had been etched in her heart forever. Aurélie faced her son. "My darling, Aramis is dead, there's nothing more we can do for him."

Furrowing his brows, Féli stamped. "No, Maman. No!" The boy grabbed Aurélie's hand. "Come on, get up, we have to help him... come on..."

Aurélie forced herself to look at Aramis. In the faint twilight of the evening, she saw the musketeer lying on his belly, eyes closed and face pale.

Aurélie rose.

Hand in hand they approached the beaten man. Aurélie signaled Féli to stay back and knelt down next to Aramis. She couldn't see if he was breathing. Placing her hand on his cold neck, Aurélie's heart pounded in her chest as she searched for what was probably not there. Nothing. No life.

Aurélie turned to Féli and her voice cracked. "I'm sorry, he's dead."

Félicien surveyed Aramis with narrowed eyes, then dashed to Aramis' other side and dropped to his knees. His little hands palpated Aramis back as they shook his lifeless body. "No! Maman! There...there! I can see it, he's breathing, hurry, Maman..."

Aurélie's cheeks flushed with heat. Could it really be...? She pressed her trembling hand, now almost as cold as Aramis skin, against his neck. She took an anxious breath. Another one. And another.

"My goodness, Féli, you're right! I feel his pulse... he's alive!" She breathed a sigh of relief. "Hold on, Aramis, please, just hold on."

Aurélie couldn't spot the distinctive bloodstain on his back from an exit wound. "Féli, help me twist him around. That's it, turn his head... There we go."

They rolled the musketeer's lax body on his back. Even in the twilight she noted the extent of his injuries. The blood-soaked left side, the battered face, the laceration on his temple and the shiny fresh blood on his shoulder. She took Aramis' hand in hers and discovered the small gaping hole. "Heaven, what has that evil bastard done to you?"

She placed his hand back on the ground, then tore off several lengths of fabric from her under skirts and folded the largest one to press it onto Aramis' shoulder. "Féli, come to me, hold this, we have to stop the fresh bleeding."

Aurélie wrapped a longer piece of cloth several times around Aramis' right hand. Her eyes fell on the side wound, and biting her lips, she didn't even dare to imagine what could have caused such an injury. "His shirt has stuck to the wound, we better leave it as it is and take care of it later before it starts bleeding again. I can barely see anything at all in this darkness, we have to get him out of here."

Félicien's voice squeaked like a mouse. "Maman, how are we going to do this? He's so big and heavy."

Aurélie smoothed the loose strands of hair back and let herself sink backwards. "I'll think of something, my darling, I'd better…"

"Can I offer my assistance, Madame?" The controlled voice appeared from nowhere and Aurélie spun around.

Félicien flinched as well, but didn't take his hand off the makeshift compress.

A few meters away on the path at the edge of the clearing, a dark figure sat on a horse. He was covered by a long coat and Aurélie couldn't identify his face under his big hat. He and his beast shone in the dull light of dusk, they must have been caught in the continuing thunderstorm.

The stranger leaned forward. "Madame? Are you having difficulties? I heard a gunshot from this direction and…" The man jumped off the horse and ran straight toward them.

"No! You will not harm him!" Félicien held out his hands to stop the stranger.

Aurélie couldn't prevent the man from grabbing Féli by his upper arms. She clenched her hands into fists and stepped next to his son, ready to defy this man as well.

She raised her hand to strike, but to her surprise the man knelt before Félicien, his strained voice the only sign of a recognizable emotion.

"I am Athos of the King's Musketeers. This man here is Aramis and he is my friend. I came from Paris and I've been looking for him. Would you allow me to take care of my comrade?"

Aurélie pulled the boy from the man's grip and shoved him behind her. Looking into the musketeer's face, cold anger radiated against her and she had no idea whether he was telling the truth or just trying to deceive her. Suddenly, behind the outrage in his eyes, she saw a familiar concern and the same deep desire to get to his friend as she had felt a brief moment ago. He knows Aramis' name.

Nodding, Aurélie cleared the way.

Athos rushed forward and fell to the ground next to Aramis, his hands frantically palpating over the bloodstained body. The chill in his voice addressing her made Aurélie shudder. "What has happened here? Who has done this?"

Félicien squirmed free of Aurélie's grip and knelt beside Athos, pressing his small hands against the shreds of Aramis' shoulder once more. "Raymond did this, I swear, I couldn't help it, please, Raymond did this... but Aramis mustn't die, please..."

Aurélie lowered to the ground. "Shhh...Féli, calm down, nobody is blaming you. This man is a Musketeer and he's gonna help us- as Aramis did."

Athos' eyes pierced her from under his wet hat. "Aramis helped you against Raymond? I remember the man. I was afraid that the issue wasn't over yet. Where is he now?"

"I don't know. The man is completely insane and capable of anything."

Athos narrowed his browns. "So there is still danger lingering. All that matters right now is that we get Aramis out of here and tend to his wounds. We load him onto my horse and bring him to a safe place. Any ideas where this could be?"

"We can bring him to my tent, but we just can't heave him onto a horse. His injuries will not allow it and he has already lost far too much blood. I have a small handcart at my tent, I will fetch it and then we…"

"No, who cares about injuries if it's not safe out here!" said, Athos. He bent forward, lifting Aramis' torso to reach under his arm. "Time is pressing, are you coming?"

Aurélie didn't move.

"Please."

Aurélie sighed and rolled her eyes, but grabbed Aramis from the other side none-the-less. Together, she and Athos pulled Aramis up and hoisted him onto the horse. Aurélie sent Féli ahead to rekindle the fire, boil fresh water in the kettle, and top off any lamps he could find with enough tallow. The boy had completed his task well, the tent was lit up when Aurélie and Athos arrived with Aramis, so Aurélie sent Féli to his sleeping place. A short time later, Aramis lay on the large table in the middle of her tent.

All the movement and commotion seemed to awaken Aramis. His closed eyelids fluttered and he shifted back and forth.

Aurélie put her hand on his sweaty hairline. "Shhhh... stay calm, everything is fine, you are safe."

Aramis moaned softly and went limp again. Aurélie waited a beat and then scanned the bloody mess comprising his body. There was so much blood, and with each new wound she detected, the measure of her inner despair increased.

"Is there a doctor present in the camp?" asked Athos, unbuckling his pauldron and taking off his leather doublet.

Aurélie rubbed her neck in frustration and looked around her dismal surroundings. "What do you think?"

Grunting, Athos rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

Aurélie felt sorry for her harsh remark. He didn't deserve that tone. "I have acquired certain healing skills over the years..." she said.

Athos stepped to the other side of the table and his voice had a pressing undertone that didn't really help right now. "Well, go ahead…"

Placing her hand on her chest, Aurélie felt her heart hammering.

"What's the matter? What are you waiting for?"

"Actually...I am not familiar with such injuries," Aurélie stuttered. "I can help women in pregnancy or prepare fever potions or make ointments for rashes. I once sewed up a laceration, but this," she gestured over Aramis' bloody body, "this is beyond my capabilities. I don't even know where to begin."

The musketeer kept a straight face. "Hmmm, I see. So you have no clue."

Aurélie snorted and her eyes widened. "Pardon me? I just thought that..."

"Don't think, act. Step aside, I'll take it from here. Now, are there any scissors?"

Aurélie pressed her lips into a thin line, but finally nodded and rummaged around in her medicine bag. "Hold on a moment, I will dip all instruments in hot water. The old barber from whom I got the bag had given me this advice to reduce the risk of inflammation."

Athos steel blue eyes caught her gaze as he reached out for the scissors. "Well, I guess we'll soon find out if this barber was right in his assessment, won't we?"

Are you always this cold? Aurélie decided to ignore Athos' causticity.

Aramis flinched with a distorted face every time the back of the scissors touched his bruises and lacerations. But watching Athos concentrating in slicing the tattered shirt and pick off the bloodstained parts despite the silent groans of Aramis, she had to admit that the man knew what he was doing and Aurélie was content with letting him work and whispering reassuring words to Aramis.

When Athos reached the side wound, he paused. "I will leave the fabric on the wound until we can take care of it, I can't see any fresh bleeding right now. Aramis is coming around, I have to get the bullet out of him. His breathing isn't regular and he is sweating more and more heavily."

Placing her hand on Aramis upper arm, Aurélie was startled by the clamminess and cold of his skin. "You are right. Féli, hand Athos the long tweezers."

Féli, crouched like an invisible guest in his sleeping bag, jumped up and cluttered through the instruments in the water bowl. "This one?... No?... This one?... Or this one?"

Aurélie grabbed the tweezers, handed them to Athos, and then gestured to the boy to slip off again.

Athos nodded and used his fingers to inspect the gunshot residue on the edge of the wound, exerting pressure to stretch the small hole. Aramis moaned and his silent mussitations aligned to the rhythm of his slight body movements.

Grabbing Aramis other shoulder, Athos forced his friend down. "Aramis, you have to hold still or it won't work. Keep still."

Athos' harsh voice startled Aurélie, but Aramis reacted and stopped moving. Athos pushed the tweezers into Aramis' flesh. Aramis trembled and stiffened but held still as Aurélie stroked his muddled hair.

"Hold on, it's almost done," whispered Aurélie, swallowing her rising nausea.

Athos pushed the instrument deeper into Aramis' shoulder. Aramis rattled and the rapid raising and lowering of his chest stopped.

It's now or never, please, don't lose the bullet. Aurélie let all air escape from her lungs as Athos yanked the bullet out of Aramis' body with a smacking sound.

The dropping of the tweezers and bullet into the water bowl caused a metallic clang. Athos pressed a piece of cloth onto the bleeding hole and Aurélie was surprised by his soft voice. "You have done well, my friend. I will sew it in a moment, but first I have to rinse it, you know how it goes. And soon we shall return to the garrison."

Aurélie caught Aramis's painful gaze. Out of maternal impulse, she stroked Aramis' cheek, as she always did when she was comforting Féli. Aramis twisted the corner of his mouth as if to say something and closed his eyes. Aurélie hurt to see how helpless and small the musketeer appeared.

Athos' voice broke through her compassion to goad her on like cattle. "Do you have some alcohol for the rinse? Where is the sewing kit?"

Aurélie thought about taking a swipe at him, but seeing the storm of emotions raging in the man's eyes despite his stoic expression, she swallowed her anger. "Needle and thread are in the medicine bag, I'll get the grain brandy."

A few moments later the needle in Athos' steady hand pierced Aramis' irritated skin and Aurélie was glad that it was not her who caused Aramis further pain. Aramis flinched, but otherwise didn't move as Athos poured more clear brandy over the small hole to clean it. He took a quick sip for himself before meticulously stitching the wound closed.

When he finished, Athos took another sip of the brandy and offered Aurélie the bottle.

He's not serious is he? Aurélie snorted and crinkled her nose. Athos shrugged his shoulders and turned around to find a place for the alcohol.

Pressing her lips together into a thin line, Aurélie grabbed the bottle. Their glances met and at that moment Aurélie realized that they were together in the middle of a battle, soldiers in service of a common cause, fighting for the wellbeing of their friend.

Aurélie cracked a smile. "To hell with it." The brandy burned in her throat and down its way into her stomach, but the warmth that spread in her body was worth it. "Aren't we a fabulous pair?"

The corner of Athos' mouth twitched and he nodded. "We'll take care of that side wound now. I need cloth soaked in warm water and a sharp knife."

It didn't take long until Athos had removed the blood-encrusted parts of the shirt from the wound. Due to Aramis' tremor and clenched jaw, Aurélie could tell how hard Aramis was struggling through the pain. Dabbing the sweat from Aramis' skin, she took his hand, which he squeezed tightly.

Athos examined the gaping wound, a small trickle of fresh blood dripping from it, and placed his hand on Aramis' forehead. His fond look told Aurélie everything about their tight bond and she wondered if Saniel had experienced the same. It gave her some kind of relief to believe that the father of her son had died among those that had cared for him.

"Brace yourself," Athos whispered to Aramis.

Aramis sighed and Athos put a leather strap, which he had probably found in the barber's bag, between Aramis' teeth, which he accepted without hesitation.

My goodness, it's really not the first time they have done this, thought Aurélie. She visualized a soldier's life was always filled with blood and pain, and determined Féli should never share that fate.

With one quick movement, Athos poured more alcohol into the wound. Aramis screamed into the gag and reared up. Athos pressed him back onto the table, and for Aurélie it felt like an eternity until Aramis stopped moaning and trembling. Then realizing what was about to come, she immediately took the gag out of Aramis' mouth. "Athos quick, help me turn him sideways!"

Together they rolled Aramis to the edge of the table, just as he emptied the contents of his stomach.

Between painful groans, Aramis heaved up clotted blood until his stomach was empty. He sighed, swallowed, and remained lying on his side. Aurélie dabbed dark blood and bile from the corners of his mouth while their eyes met.

Suppressed tears shone in Aramis dark eyes and his mouth formed a toneless thank you. His desperate expression touched Aurélie in the core of her heart. "Don't... I have you to thank. Please just hold on. We'll get through this together."

Aramis' eyebrow twitched and he closed his eyes. But Aurélie had seen the glint of life, and for the first time during this disastrous evening she believed that they could influence the outcome of the story in some way. Aurélie picked up the tattered shirt and spread it over the mess on the floor. "As far as I can tell, it was old blood he vomited. He must have swallowed a lot of it when Raymond... when Raymond..."

Growling, Athos stood like a Sphinx, never retrieving his hand from Aramis. "We will deal with that issue later, we have to sew the wound and…"

Aurélie tightened. "No, we have to talk about how to proceed first. Aramis is at his limits, I really can't imagine how he can come through any other procedures without further agony. We should..."

Shots and screams echoed across the camp. Félicien jumped up and fled to Aurélie, clinging to her skirt.

Aramis opened his eyes and tensed, his hand sliding toward non-existent weapons at his side. Leaning on his elbow, he raised up with a groan.

Athos drew his rapier, stepped toward the tent's opening. "Stay here, I'll check what's going on..."

The canvas flaps of the tent flew open, inviting in the sounds of commotion outside in the camp.

Aurélie pushed Félicien behind her and grabbed the scissors. "Don't be afraid, I won't let someone do any harm."

A tall, angered man stepped inside and Félicien cried out. Aurélie raised the scissors further up and stretched her hand forward.

Athos' eyes turned hard as steel. "Raymond."