Chapter Three

The previous day...

Athos was glad of the warm weather. He suspected he had travelled in much the same way as Aramis would have. Long days in the saddle and sleeping where he could find shelter. He tried not to dwell on what he would find. Was he on a rescue mission? Or was he on a journey to bury his friend? Neither were attractive propositions, but Athos knew which he preferred. Although, if Aramis was still alive, what state would he be in?

They had all been caught at one point or another and either tortured for the information they had or used as leverage to make one of their comrades talk. Athos knew Aramis could hold out a long time under torture. He had seen his friend do it. Aramis would not give in easily.

As the forest where the rendezvous had been due to take place loomed into view, Athos sent up a prayer to Aramis' God and asked that his humble servant be spared.

The forest consisted of a dense wood of large, twisted trees. Dark fir trees and clinging thorny bushes helped to make the place oppressive and inhospitable. Shadows at every turn only added to the forbidding atmosphere. Athos did not want to linger.

His horse slowed to a walk and picked his route around the large tree trunks and rocks. Animal trails were winding their way deeper into the wood. Athos followed the description Treville had given him of the route to the rendezvous. All the time he searched the area with his gaze for any sign of his missing friend.

The clearing was a welcome break from the darkness of the forest. The sun's rays, warm and welcome outside the forest, only created a humid stifling patch of light in the clearing. A large, flattened rock on the opposite side sitting in shadow caught Athos' eyes. He dismounted. The area around the rock was cooler. The flat top made a suitable place to sit. Athos could imagine Aramis and the contact sitting together as the information was shared.

Athos took a step back and looked at the surrounding area. There were plenty of places to hide, but no one would be able to get close without making a sound. Athos realised, if Aramis and the contact were taken at the rendezvous point, the enemy would have already been lying in wait. They may have been waiting for hours.

He started to search the area. He scoured the ground in the clearing and was not surprised to find blood soaked into the dry earth. Athos stared at the dark patch of earth for several seconds and contemplated the implications. Whoever had laid there had lost a lot of blood.

Too much.

He started a slow circuit around the clearing paying more attention to the outer edges than the centre where someone had lain in a pool of blood at some point in the previous few weeks. There had not been much rain in the past weeks which led Athos to the conclusion that the blood could only have been there for a while.

The buzz of many insects a few feet from the clearing and a distinctly unpleasant smell caused Athos to stop for a few seconds. He knew the smell of death; he had experienced it many times. He knew the smell of the dead left to rot on the battlefield. He knew there was a body ahead of him. A body that had probably been lying ignored by all but the forest inhabitants for a few weeks.

He stepped closer. He did not want to find his friend in such a state but knew he had to investigate. The smell made him nauseous. He covered his mouth and nose with his gloved hand, preferring the smell of the leather to the smell around him.

Some leafy branches were blocking his view. Athos pushed them aside. He stared at the decaying body in front of him.

It was not Aramis.

Athos wanted to be relieved but found it hard to be positive when faced with the sight in front of him. The man, it was impossible to tell his age, was lying on his back. Sightless eyes stared skywards. One hand was wrapped around the handle of a dagger that had been stabbed into the man's chest. From the angle of the dagger, and the way the decaying hand was positioned Athos wondered if the wound was self-inflicted.

A picture of what might have happened began to form in Athos' mind. His worry for Aramis only increased. Perhaps Aramis had managed to get away initially but still been forced to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Athos turned away from the body.

He pushed the image of the dead man from his mind and concentrated on the task at hand. He scanned the rest of the clearing again. He decided that several men would have lain in wait and that the dense tangle of the forest meant they would have congregated in the clearing before venturing to their hiding places around it. The animal track he, and he suspected Aramis and the unfortunate contact, would have used to enter the clearing would also have been the way out. He walked to the gap and looked at the ground. Now that he knew what he was looking for he could make out the faint indentations of different boots and shoes. And hoof prints in both directions. Two sets in, but only one set out. He reached for the reins of his horse and followed in his friend's tracks.

Athos was sure Aramis was still alive. At least he had been when he left the clearing. The question Athos needed to answer was if he was a captive at that moment.

MMMM

Now…

Aramis was silent for a few seconds as Athos finished telling him more of what had happened the previous day. Athos watched his friend carefully. They were sitting by a shallow stream, eating dried meat and bread. The horses were drinking a few yards away. Their first full day of travelling away from the chateau where Aramis had been incarcerated was warm. They had slept in a thicket of trees a short distance from the road. Aramis had slept well but was starting to show a few signs that the drug was wearing off. Athos guessed his friend was trying to delay the inevitable.

'The contact was a brave man,' said Aramis. 'It's a shame he will not be remembered for all that he did.'

Athos nodded, 'people are alive because of men like him… and you.'

'Us,' corrected Aramis. 'We've all taken a turn at collecting intelligence.'

Athos agreed to Aramis' point. He watched as his friend took a small bite of the meat. It was obvious he was struggling to eat. His appetite appeared to be non-existent. Aramis realised he was being watched.

'I can hold out a bit longer.'

Athos shook his head, 'you need to be focused until we can find somewhere safe to stay.'

He reached into his pocket and pulled one of the vials out. He held it out towards Aramis, who stared at it for a few seconds before he took it. His friend pulled the stopper out and paused again.

'You have to take it, Aramis. The fact that you are reluctant means you want to recover. But right now, you cannot suffer the effects of not taking it.'

Aramis nodded before drinking the liquid. They sat in silence for a while. Aramis stared into the distance; his food ignored.

A few minutes later, as they mounted up, Aramis finally spoke again.

'I know you're right, but now that I am free and oddly because I have access to it, I can see what it is doing to me. And I don't want to be trapped by it.'

'You will not be,' Athos assured his friend, 'at least not for much longer.'

As they continued their journey the following day Athos scanned the surrounding area. Unlike the oppressive forest where Aramis had been taken captive and the contact's body still lay, the area was open and bright. A few isolated thickets dotted the landscape, but otherwise, open grasslands and a distant river were all that they could see.

The only sign of human activity was a small cottage with a large paddock by the side of it. Athos could make out a few goats and sheep milling around in the paddock. A man was leaning on the fence of the paddock looking intently at the sheep. He glanced up as the two Musketeers approached.

'Are you travelling through, messieurs?' he asked, his gaze lingering on Aramis for a few seconds.

Aramis was wearing a hat they had taken from the chateau; he had pulled the brim down low, shielding his eyes from the sun. His face was hidden in shadow.

'We are looking for somewhere to stay for a few days, perhaps a couple of weeks,' said Athos, who was trying to gauge if they could be completely honest with the farmer. 'We need time to recover after a recent mission.'

The man, who was in his fifties and bore the scars of a life of toil, nodded sagely. He glanced at Aramis again before looking back at his sheep for a few seconds.

'There's my shepherd's hut,' he said. 'It won't be needed for another couple of months. It's small but could house you both for a few days. Off the beaten track… Which is what you want?'

The shepherd looked back at them both. He could not know what their need for the hut was, but he did appear to understand that Aramis needed rest.

'Is there somewhere nearby we could buy supplies?'

The shepherd smiled, 'if you are willing to pay for the use of the hut, I will see you fed as well. I can bring you food every couple of days. And you are soldiers; you can supplement anything I bring you with rabbit. The area is not in short supply of those, and I would not object to a few getting used for the pot.'

The man winked at them. Athos nodded his understanding. Aramis' mare shifted a little Aramis reached forward with a shaking hand and patted her on the flank a couple of times. Athos hoped the shepherd had not noticed how ill Aramis was.

As the shepherd gave them directions to the hut and Athos paid him for his troubles, he tried to put aside the thought of what they had to do. Aramis had barely spoken the previous few hours. Since taking the drug again he had become melancholy. Perhaps the full weight of having to go without the drug was starting to dawn on him.

They thanked the shepherd and guided the horses towards his hut which was another hour's ride away.

The surrounding landscape did not change much during their journey. A spindly wood grew up on their left but did not resemble the oppressive tangled forest where Aramis and the contact had been attacked. Tall straight trees with little in between them and light visible on the other side was a far cry from the darkness of the forest. As they moved away from the sparse wood, the shepherd's hut came into view; it had been hidden by a natural rise in the rolling grass downlands.

The hut looked well maintained. A large oak tree provided shade across the front of the wooden structure. There was a door on the front of the shed with a single shuttered window to its left. Athos could see specks of light through the shuttered window, which implied at least one other window either on the side or the back of the small hut. Good sightlines around the hut meant they were unlikely to be surprised by visitors.

They slowed the horses and dismounted. Aramis paused for several seconds after he reached the ground. Athos was about to ask him if he was alright when he stepped away from his horse. He pushed his hat back a little, giving Athos his first good look at his friend for several hours.

Aramis' pallor gave away how the man was feeling. He was pale and looked nauseous. Athos wondered how long Aramis had been suffering to such an extent and not said anything. He decided not to comment on Aramis' health until they had looked at the hut.

He pushed the strong wooden door open. The dim hut smelt stale where it had not been used for some months. Dust had settled across all the surfaces.

The shutters on the window were pulled open from the outside, allowing light into the single room. Aramis stepped in behind Athos and looked around.

'Small,' he said. 'But it will work…'

Athos nodded, 'we may need to clean it up a bit first,' he mused.

The furniture in the room consisted of two small low beds, which were pushed against the far wall. A heavy-looking chest, which upon inspection, contained enough blankets for both of the beds. A small table and two chairs with a couple of empty shelves above it.

Athos looked at the beds and thought about what they were about to embark on. He turned to Aramis, reaching into his pocket at the same time. He held up another of the vials. Aramis looked confused.

'We cannot deal with you until we are prepared,' said Athos. 'You are already suffering, and I cannot sort this room out on my own, particularly if you need my attention. Take this, and we will prepare as best we can.'

Aramis looked ashamed. Athos felt sorry for his friend. He hated having to encourage him to take more of the drug. It was clear Aramis had hoped he was not going to need to take any more.

With reluctance, Aramis took the drug. He stared at the empty vial for a few seconds before looking back at Athos.

'You are right,' he said. 'I was getting to the point where I didn't just want it. I needed it.'

'And that will be the last one you take,' said Athos with as much sincerity as he could muster. 'Now. Once you feel better you can go and catch us some dinner. Scout the local area.'

Athos pulled his gun from his belt and handed it to Aramis, who took it with a still shaking hand. Aramis looked at the gun for a few seconds before looking up. Athos could see the appreciation in his friend's eyes. The modicum of trust Athos had placed in Aramis meant a lot to his friend.

'And whilst you are gone, I will make use of this rather old broom.'

Athos picked up the tatty broom that was standing by the door.

Aramis managed a chuckle. The drug was already affecting him. Athos felt guilty for making him take more, but they needed to be ready for the days to come.

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