Aramis met Raymond's gaze. His heart skipped a beat, believing that in a moment it would never beat again.
"I'm going to kill you once and for all..." sneered Raymond.
Athos knocked the pistol out of Raymond's hand with his foot, then butted Raymond in the face with the hilt of his sword.
Raymond roared and staggered back into the opening of the tent, flailing into the canvas flaps. Athos drew nearer, his rapier thrust out ready to unleash a calculated attack. But Raymond hurled the canvas at him and turned around, fleeing back outside.
"Aramis!" cried Athos, as he chased after Raymond.
Aramis knew that his friend was relying on him to have his back. Battle readiness whipped Aramis into shape, and despite the omnipresent pain consuming his senses, his will drove him off the table. Buzzing waves of heat made him shiver, and Aramis struggled to push back the rapidly rising nausea. With trembling hands he grabbed a piece of bandage and pressed it onto his side wound while shoving Aurélie and Féli aside with his other hand.
Aramis' voice crunched like his clenched teeth. "Stay where you are."
Aurélie gasped. "Aramis, no, your condition doesn't allow..."
"Do what I ask... please…"
Aurélie flinched and Féli stared at him with mouth open, but Aramis felt the soldier's ruthlessness take command and he opened up to its guidance without hesitation.
Riding roughshod over Aurélie and Féli's sensitivities wasn't foremost on Aramis' mind, there were more important issues at hand, like protecting them against Raymond and backing up Athos. Aramis limped towards the entrance of the tent. Black dots danced before his eyes and merged with the darkness of the night as he stepped outside.
The camp was in turmoil. Torches lit up the darkness, illuminating people as they ran like flushed birds through the rows of tents. He heard the clashing of swords, the screams of warmings and isolated shots.
"Where are you, you bloody scumbag? Where are you?"
Aramis' eyes whipped between the commotion, but he had difficulty recognizing Raymond in the chaos. He blinked, when suddenly a familiar figure stood out of the dark monotony. Athos.
Athos gaze caught Aramis', and a mischievous grin appeared on his face as he tossed his pistol to Aramis. "Are you ready?"
Aramis answered his grin. "As ready as I can be."
Aramis caught the weapon with his right hand, almost dropping it as he could barely spread his curved fingers due to the nail wound. With a guttural tone he forced his hand to grasp it.
Aramis felt Athos' stare bore into him, and in return, Aramis hardened his gaze. "Just so you know… I'm taking the last shot."
It was not a question, it was fact. This was not about revenge on the man who had inflicted all this on him. It was about eradicating the threat to the boy and his mother. It was about what Aramis was willing to do to help and protect them. Killing Raymond was about nothing less than life itself.
They moved forward into the foray. Aramis' heart hammered blood and pain through his body and cold sweat dripped into his eyes, but he blocked his agony into insignificance. Step by step, he followed Athos as he slid through the winding rows of tents, straight toward the loudest commotion. At the wide common area they finally found what they had been looking for.
The villagers had Raymond and his goons surrounded.
The culprits of the attack on the camp behaved like rabid dogs, flailing their machetes and fashions in earnest at the encroaching villagers until they realized their defeat. Raymond's men managed to flee as if they weren't important to the villagers, leaving Raymond alone and unprotected from the mob. But he continued to fight, jab back at his captors like a trapped animal.
A small, thin man with pale skin and a bandaged hand jumped onto a tree stump holding a torch over his head, and shouted at the crowd. "Stop!"
When he had the crowd's full attention, he continued as he stared at Raymond. "Now you will pay for everything, you filthy swine! Now it's your turn to burn! Come on, my friends, get this mad rat!"
As Athos and Aramis neared the perimeter of the commotion, Athos signaled Aramis to stop. Aramis watched as Athos' experienced eyes searched for a breach in the crowd in order to make his move.
Like a hunting wolf, Athos suddenly lept like a cannonball into the turmoil when he found his opportunity. Athos charged at Raymond and dragged him out of the turmoil, despite the protests of the angered villagers.
But they eventually cleared a path for him, realizing almost instantly based on the sneer and burning hatred in Athos' eyes, that Raymond was not being rescued, but rather, taken to his punishment.
Raymond fought back as he was pulled, but Athos contained his thrashing and swinging fists as easily as a mother contained their wayward charge. At the perimeter of the crowd, Athos shoved Raymond toward Aramis like a gift.
Aramis inhaled deeply, tired to aim his pistol.
His hand shook and the pistol refused to become one with him. After another breath, pure willpower stabilized his posture, and he was able to aim the barrel of his pistol center mass in Raymond's chest… where a heart usually beat.
Aramis released his breath, his finger just giving the trigger the first impulse, when suddenly a bang echoed through him and Raymond slumped like a stone.
Aramis spun around and his blood dropped into his feet. Félicien stood between the tents with a smoking gun. The boy's face reflected the expression which Aramis knew only too well. There was no child in front of him who had taken revenge on his tormentor or who in his naivety hadn't been aware of what he had just done. In front of him stood a man in the shape of a child who had decided to amend injustice and protect what was important to him by all means. In front of him stood a child who had followed in a soldier's footsteps.
Aurélie turned around the tent and stood rooted to the spot next to her son, hands covering her mouth. Her chest rose and fell, and her eyes reflected the same horror that gripped Aramis.
The pistol fell from Aramis' hand. "Féli, no…"
He limped to Féli and dropped next to him. The pain of his body and the agony of his soul marauded through his system. Again blood flowed from his gaping side wound, the shreds of cloth protecting it long lost. Holding eye contact with the boy, Aramis gently took the pistol from Félicien's hand.
Féli swallowed. "Did I do it right? Just pull the trigger, you said..."
Aramis smoothed a strand of hair from the child's face. "Yes, you did right. Féli, I..."
"Are you mad at me? Will you dismiss me now?" whispered Féli in a trembling voice.
"No, I won't dismiss you. Never. You did the right thing at the right time. Sometime later in your life you will reflect on this moment and understand why I am so proud of you. You're the bravest child I know, and nothing is more important than you are alright right now."
Féli sobbed and flung his arms around Aramis' neck. Aramis embraced the child and closed his eyes as the image of Féli with the smoking gun in his hand appeared without being asked. It had buried its cruel presence deep into his soul. Félicien had taken the path of a soldier and Aramis knew that at the end there would be a grave awaiting.
How can I protect you from the world?
Pressing the boy tighter, the sweet scent of the childlike hair reached Aramis' nostrils and while the world stood still in the moment of their intimacy, he came to a conclusion.
Aramis held the boy's trembling shoulders with both hands. "Féli, I will stay with you and your Maman. I will quit my commission so that I can always take care of you. We will leave this whole madness behind and I will teach you everything I know. I will help you forge a good life and I will be there to protect that life."
Féli's eyes widened and they beamed like the sun. "You will stay with us? Really?"
Aramis nodded as he absorbed the child's brightness. A deep warmth radiated from the center of his own heart through his body and mind, easing his pain and conscience. Relief and joy of finally having made the right decision glommed more and more brightly and consumed his senses. Aramis became dizzy and for the first time, he wasn't consumed by the darkness of oblivion but by the light of family.
By early dawn, when Aramis regained consciousness after a fitful sleep, the glistening light of joy and love had disappeared. Only its resonance echoed through his hazy senses, but it was enough to bring a smile to his lips and lighten his heart. His heavy limbs pulled him down and he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. Dull pain throbbed to the rhythm of his heartbeat but it lacked the edge so pronounced earlier, his thoughts were hazy, slow, and he found it difficult to concentrate.
They must have given me something...
Aramis felt someone was present. Calm breath, creaking leather and a scent of brandy told him that his brother was keeping watch at his side.
Aramis licked his dry lips and forced his eyelids to open. It was dark in the tent except for a weak lamp. He lay again on the hard tabletop, his head resting on something soft. His lower abdomen was firmly bandaged, only a small red spot testified to the wound. The sour smell of vinegar on his skin told Aramis that Aurélie had probably washed him off with her tincture and he was glad that he had neither experienced this procedure nor the sewing of the side wound. Aramis noticed that the fingers of his right hand had been spread under the dressing with small sticks. So Athos had remembered how to treat wounds of this kind.
Athos.
The unexpected appearance of his friend the other day seemed like a miracle that Aramis didn't want to question further. Gratitude flooded through him as their eyes met. Thank god you showed up...
Suddenly, a thought entered Aramis' mind. "Féli! Where is Félicien? How is he? What...?"
Athos, who was sitting next to him on a stool and holding a bottle in his hand, twisted his mouth into a vague smile. "Stay calm, all is well. Don't make so much noise, they're both asleep back there." He nodded to the corner of the tent, then took a sip from his bottle before offering it to Aramis.
Aramis relaxed and nodded. The wheat brandy burned over the sore spots in his mouth, but Aramis wouldn't have missed the warm feeling that spread down from his throat.
Athos took the bottle away from him and leaned forward. "I think you want this back." He placed Aramis' rosary on his chest, helping Aramis to slip into it.
Aramis answered the fond look of his friend. He knew Athos' attitude towards the rosary and yet his friend was willing to change his spots for Aramis' sake.
"How are you?" Athos asked with a low voice.
"I'm f…" Aramis bit his lip. "It hurts like hell."
Athos raised his brows. "Hmmhmm, I can imagine." He scrutinized Aramis' battered body and clicked his tongue. "How do you always manage to make trouble for yourself even with the simplest tasks?"
Aramis shrugged. "You told me to stay and that it would do me good to help."
"I said help, not fight... even though the two words sound very similar…. Actually, they don't sound alike at all."
Aramis sighed. "Nothing is ever easy and believe me, the last thing I wanted was a fight... or to fail."
"You didn't fail, what makes you think you did?" Athos stroked his beard. "Aurélie told me everything, but even you are not invincible. You took a hell of a risk last night, too much for my taste, and I'm not really sure if bravery or stupidity led you to this point. But at the end of the day only one thing matters: You helped the boy and his mother."
Helped. Bitter feelings of guilt crept through Aramis and suppressed the feeling of lightness and warmth he had felt when thinking of Félicien.
After Emilie's departure, Aramis had stayed with the camp of displaced villagers with the hope of relieving his feelings of guilt and gaining a clear conscience by helping the people make a new beginning. Instead, out of sheer hubris, Aramis had surrendered himself to madness in the shape of a man; worse, he had surrendered Félicien and Aurélie to this madness. I hadn't helped them. On the contrary, I didn't help anyone.
"Don't do that," Athos said softly.
Aramis looked Athos in the eye. "Don't do what?"
"Don't blame yourself for what happened. You are not responsible for the fanatical acts of a fanatical man and you were alone. However, together we took care of Raymond and locked him in the pigsty. The boy only grazed him..."
"So you mean I'm not responsible for a seven-year-old shooting a person twice in one day with a pistol?" hissed Aramis. "It was, after all, my duty to hunt Raymond down and I should have seen it coming. I should have prevented Féli from ever taking a weapon in hand and firing it. I am responsible for everything. If I had done my part correctly, the boy would never have fallen into this situation. I failed to protect him"
Athos put his hand on Aramis' arm and shook his head. "No, my friend, you are wrong. You were willing to sacrifice your life to save a child's innocence and help provide him a life that was denied to his father. You meant well."
"The opposite of well is well meant."
Deep sadness joined Aramis' feelings of guilt and he glanced at the family sleeping in the corner. Snuggled together they gave each other warmth and comfort and it seemed as if their unconditional love could light up the dark room like a halo, whose incandescence reached him as well.
I've never fled from complications in my life. How could I live with myself if I abandon my duty to help them?
Aramis sighed. "And well meant is not enough. I can only help and protect Féli and Aurélie if I am willing to take on true responsibility for them. Athos, at last there is some meaning to the fact that I survived Savoy and I see it clearly now. When Féli shot me, I thought my death would save him and I would join my fallen comrades, but now I am sure that it is my life that will save him. But not my life as a musketeer, not my life as a soldier. If I really want to help him, I must leave all that behind me." Aramis waited a beat before continuing. "I will resign my commission and stay with Féli and Aurélie."
Athos' mien gave nothing away, but behind his eyes, Aramis saw the storm of emotion his words unleashed. "And what about your oath to your dauphin? Your duty to your king? Your love to your queen? Aramis, you pledged your loyalty and responsibility to an entire country, and now you will abandon all that to help one child and his mother?"
The harsh words hit Aramis like Raymond's blows, and the pain they caused in his soul added to the pain throbbing through his body. Pain is lasting, he thought to himself, knowing that the pain his decision would bring to his brothers would eventually be over. But being a father for his fallen comrade's son would bring him a joy that would last forever.
Aramis cleared his throat. "You know that I always wanted just one thing: To take care of my s…"
"Don't even think about saying it out loud, you know very well that which must not, cannot be."
Aramis rested a hand on his forehead. "But that's what it's all about. I'm doomed to want the things I can't have! I will never have the chance to really be there for my... And basically he doesn't need me. He is the future king of France and all the people of the country are at his service, one guard more or less will not be noticed. But Féli will notice whether I'm with him or not. The boy needs me and I know that I need him just as much."
Athos recoiled and rose. Aramis recognized the anger in his strained voice. "Damn it, Aramis, can't you see it? This is not just about Félicien and his mother. Do you really think they're the only ones who need your protection against someone like Raymond? That maniac out there burned his friend's hand with a torch before he attacked you. Two villagers were killed in the fight because of him, and his men had injured several others. The people here have risked much to protect themselves from the fanaticism of this man who considers himself the protector of the King and saved his subjects from evil. But unlike you, Raymond is not a musketeer serving his king and his people. It is you who has made this oath and taken the commission. And all the people of France deserve your protection and your help as well."
Aramis felt as if he was under fire from all sides, and every hit evoked not a flood of blood but a flood of images. Suddenly he was able to see what he had refused to see before. He saw the faces of French citizens who had given up their livelihoods to fight what they presumed was the greatest threat to all, the Spanish. He saw weapons lying where tools should have been stored. And he saw the now desperation they all carried because their lives, their dedicated mission and purpose in life, had been torn out from under them. But above all, he saw a man willing to stand up for all of them.
Aramis was ashamed it had not been himself.
He realized he had been so focused on his own desire for salvation and peace of mind that he had missed the hopes and needs of everyone else in the camp. They had needed an outlet for the anger that had been with them for so long. Aramis should have seen the camp as a fuse waiting to be lit. And consumed by his own self-interests, he let Raymond hold the match.
The good of the many should have outweighed the good of the few. Raymond had seen this, but Aramis had not.
With a groan, but yet confident, Aramis straightened up, accepting the physical pain as penance for his hubris. "You are right, my friend, I have unleashed a monster upon the villagers. It was my return, my selfishness, that provoked Raymond to his deeds and I am to blame for the whole debacle here. But I will not allow Raymond to continue being a threat to Féli... or anyone else in this camp."
Again rolling off the table with clenched eyes and jaws, Aramis fought his way through the waves of agony that roared through his body. Cold sweat broke out across his skin, and his hand trembled more than he would have liked as he reached for the pistol lying on a small wooden box next to the table.
Athos immediately planted himself in front of him. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I am correcting my mistake," replied Aramis, with authority. "I'm going to save the whole village... I'm going to kill Raymond."