Once again, thank you to Mountain Cat for her valuable time and energy!
And everyone who is still with me on this journey. Only three more chapters to go. Thank you for your feedback, so thrilled you've enjoyed the ride!
The rain storm from the night before had left them, their supplies, and their horses soaked. They had saddled, and were mounted before the crack of dawn. The water in the marshes had risen, and the horses struggled through knee-deep mud that continued to hinder progress toward the ravine. Athos rode his mount to the tree line and looked at the vastness of the lands south of the gully. Trees outlined the edges of the fields in the distance and met the base of a mountain with peeks that disappeared into the mist. He winced when he rolled his shoulder and felt muscles, tendons, and bones protest at the movement. He had listened to Aramis' arguments about keeping his arm in a sling, but he had shaken his head and ignored him. Instead, he had pushed past his exhaustion and pain, saddled his horse, and mounted while the others had done the same.
Tall grass had grown thick over the course of the spring months and the excessive rains had provided the moisture the plant life craved. Instead of laying flat due to the heavy of rainfall, they had grown thick, full, and stood strong and covered the tracks of wild scavengers as they fed on the carcasses near the road.
Athos looked downward, urged his horse forward as he searched for signs of Auch. He could hear the others doing the same. The horses tossed their heads and nipped at grass as they walked. Grass got caught between lips and bit shanks as they chewed.
The sun was promising to make an appearance, and the sky was free of clouds that could hinder their search. Porthos dismounted and felt his boots sink below the surface, causing sounds of suction as he walked though the mud in search of a trail. He took a deep breath, rubbed his face, and looked toward the horizon.
"We should spread out," Porthos said, "ride parallel to each other." He looked up and met Athos' eyes. "Auch was 'urt — we know that, he's probably hid himself in an ol' barn or shed."
Athos cocked an eyebrow. "And how many of those do you see, Porthos, or am I blind to them?" He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and then pinched the bridge of his nose. He coughed and shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said, and looked toward the fields.
Porthos stepped toward Athos, placed his hand on the horse's neck, and looked at him. "Let's ride up ahead — a man in Auch's condition may 'ave walked a few miles everyday — an' we won't know 'til we look."
Athos nodded, and urged his horse forward.
They rode within eyesight of one another, a slow tedious pace, and focused on the ground that failed to share hints of a dying man's desperate attempt to flee. Homes that were occupied revealed no sightings of anyone within the past few months, much less days. A few residents refused to answer, others just shook their heads and continued their work. Abandoned properties were searched, and still nothing. The early morning sun had risen to noon, and eventually started to fall and signify that the end of the day was slowly approaching.
They were muddied, hungry, exhausted, and desperate. Horses that were normally energetic and spirited had been reduced to a slow walk, heads lowered, reins loose, and only casually moving to snatch bites of grass when the opportunity arose.
Athos leaned forward, staying upright only by keeping his left arm straight and hand cupped over the neck of his horse. His right arm was tucked close to his side, his right hand rested on the seat below the pommel. He bowed his head, adjusted his position, and increased his hold on his horse's mane. His determination outlasted his sensibilities when it came to discomfort and pain. While his efforts were admirable, they were also exhaustive.
Porthos pressed the heel of his right boot against his horse's side as they walked forward. The big animal raised his head to the cue, and half-halted to the left until he walked next to Athos. Porthos looked toward Aramis who nodded and d'Artagnan who stood in his stirrups and looked ahead.
Neglected lavender fields showed signs of age as they rode along the backside of the hedges. Weeds had encroached and overgrown the narrow pathways. Last year's blooms stood barren and forgotten on dried stems that would eventually fall and crumble beneath the summer sun as new growth overrode the old.
Birds flew upward as the heavy impact of the horses' hooves startled them. They flew right, then circled toward the left, crossed the field, and snatched at low flying insects. The screech of a wild animal echoed and Porthos looked to his right when he spotted the lone gray wolf at the edge of the forest border, watching.
"There," d'Artagnan shouted, stood in his stirrups and pointed toward the sloped peeks of roofs in the distance.
Aramis sighed and nodded."We'll check for occupancy," he glanced toward Porthos, "if it's abandoned we'll search for Auch… but we need to rest," he paused and looked toward Athos who looked up and nodded, but was too quick to look back down. "We all do."